Leh Ladakh, erstwhile west Tibet, truly lives up to its moniker, 'roof of the world'.

Atop an elevation of nearly 6000 metres , it is indeed one of the remotest, rugged and sparsely populated region in the world. The geography is mountainous with little or no vegetation, sparse cultivation, and absence of animal livestock, save a few Yaks, Marmuts and donkeys. 

This is indeed the cold desert, home to the Ladakis, with the tourist season open just between April to September, before the land is plunged into sheets of snow rest of the year.

To travel around Ladakh, one has to travel on roads cut across the sides of the mountain. The road are basic, and quickly damaged with clay and rubble that fall continuously from the mountain sides. Often with light rain, boulders fall across and block the roads. The absence of vegetation allows constant soil erosion. For several miles roads give way to dirt tracks, even worse rubble tracks and some tracks even submerged under running water streams that pass through.  

Driving on these roads are treacherous: on one side is the sheer drop to the valley below. On the other side are rock outcropping, blind spots and always, the roads are narrow just a few feet wide. Driving speed does not exceed 20 kms an hour, and driving speed drops to a crawl as cars pass each one by. For larger vehicles, one would have to halt completely, even as one would have to select a wider section, to allow a truck to pass. Loose gravel and dust on the road with occasional boulders always required the driver to be attentive at all times. These were roads that needed to be navigated and traversed carefully; certainly not just to be driven over.  

A drive to Nubra valley (and you have to pass the Khardungla Pass, the highest motorable road in the world! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GG1vNTelJGc
or to Pangong Lake, a distance of 120 kms would take around 5-6 hours. As always, it was bumpy and jerky all of the time. The temperature would be around 17 Celsius yet the sun rays would be harsh and the glare blinding requiring content use of sunscreen and UV protected sunglasses at all times.  Yet the wind was sharp and cold, at times biting cold. The air at these heights is thin and rarefied with less oxygen. Walking a few feet up a slope would have you breathless and gasping for air. It is not unusual to have bouts of nausea, headaches even in some cases occasional vomiting. For prolonged head aches the best cure would be to drive down to lower slopes Occasional patches of wild flower would dot the edges of the road, providing the only colour to the black winding bumpy roads, that crisscrossed the brown mountains, exposed most often to grey shale rock, as its frontal cover, would get shorn off. Once it snowed briefly, but thankfully just briefly, for a minute or two at maximum. That helped: the dust settled in, and the next few miles were pleasant.

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Roads signs were few dotting the routes. Some provided the obvious caution: drive carefully.  One said: accidents hurt, safety does not . One said rather ominously, 'drive slowly to avoid grave below' I enjoyed one, on the way to the hot springs that proclaimed' drinking whisky makes driving risky' :) Mountains are a pleasure if you drive with leisure. Be soft to my curves

Far across the horizon enchanting as always were blue mountains in the distance as they nested below white clouds that seemed to only move imperceptibly and at moments casting its shadows on some of the mountain slopes. Occasional milestones signalled distances to the nearest village and flagged off the height: usually at 15500 feet and above. One is always driving up or down all the time.

Not born into this world, but born of it seems to be a constant reminder the past ten days. Truly, man is a part of nature, and must exist in true harmony with it. A short episode of taking refuge in a nomad's yak tent, on the way to Pangong made this point admirably well.  Here was a family that truly lived in the midst of nature and yet they seemed happy even though they had nothing except for a few meagre belongings of a few rugs, pot and pans, and a mobile stove. Yet food was always plentiful: thanks to the yaks milk that produced tea, butter and cheese. With roasted barley mixed with yogurt, a favourite food     

Even as we sat in the tent, it began to snow, but it was wam inside. Surprisingly, the yak hair tent kept the snow from entering inside. A Ladakhi couple, with a small child and the parents of one of them lived altogether.  Although, they had very little, their home was warm, inviting and cheerful. They offered everything they had, with the greatest of generosity, that would put a city dweller to shame.  When it stopped snowing and we moved off, they did accept the small contribution we made in cash.  

Living together in one tent, I was struck with the thought, how necessary it would be for all members to be sensitive to each other's needs at all times. I could see all five (even the little child) were very caring to each other. A relationship of love, care, nurturance, trust and communication. In our homes today, with separate living quarters, TV sets and books, how easy it seems for each one to be physically present but mentally absent.

[a sketch of the Stok peak across Saboo valley]

Visit to the monasteries

Quite recently, for some time I harbored the notion of taking a year's sabbatical to become a monk.  Frankly, I was disappointed with my visit to the monastery. Don't get me wrong it has nothing to do with the monasteries I visited: they were all beautiful, well maintained and informative. We visited the temple at Diskit, Hemis, Likir, and Alchi. 

From a historical and cultural perspective it revealed in resplendent grandeur its glory! We saw stunning thanka paintings, images of all forms of Buddha: Maitreya Buddha and the bodyguards who watched over the four directions. Yet everything seemed anchored in the past, the stories of a generation gone by, and I who had come to see a living religion experienced only one which was presented in its narrative. For me it did not seem contemporary, aligned to my current reality. It was difficult to co-hold this past narrative with the current Prakriti of my distance. As a narrative it was rich, full some and replete with rich treasure.

The Buddhist monastic life is frugal, replete with routine, and disciplined, and in what many would consider to be harsh living environment.  The monks seemed content, to the life they choose. I heard that most novices enter the monastery at the age of 6- 9 years. 

 I saw many young boys: playful.  Yet I could sense, they were training to be more disciplined, restrained, watchful. Reading the Dalai Lama own autobiography, 'Freedom in Exile' I read with interest his own narrative of the disciplined life he had to undergo as a child in the monastery under his two tutors. As he himself admits, his childhood was not one similar to Siddartaha the prince, who was to eventually become the enlightened Sukyamuni Buddha.

For me it seems, that religion needs to be alive, relevant ever more to the present. It must provide the experiences in the ' here and now' to shape our thoughts, feelings and actions. It must ever mor tap into our own abundance of deep presence, for spontaneous actions and choices. It must stay away from knowledge, but tap into our own intuition. Through this intuitive journey, that is detached from the mind, and free from clouded emotions, that reality becomes apparent: who we are, our purpose, the nature of our inter connectedness. Only then do we recognise the impermanence of our being, that thee is no fixed reality, that everything is in a state of 'ammness' , everything is evolving, there is no beginning nor ending. That we are all with an atmic soul but from an overall Brahman consciousness. That I am that.

For me then, the notion of being part of the community, is a restriction. Our individualism calls us to realise our beings, yet we do so in the canvas of humanity. Be your own light unto yourself said Buddha. Then it seems to me, that any form of organised religion, is but empty rituals, practices, whose meanings have been lost in obscurity. Thus lies the unfamiliarity of the Vedas, giving way to the Upanishads.  

Truth is one. It existed then at the time of Abraham, as it exist today.  For when a master declares, I come before Abraham even, he is not referring to chronology of age.  

As is apparent, the two weeks I spent at Leh ladakh has been very meaningful: a real break away from what is the usual 'been there done that' kind of vacation. I have savoured every moment, both physically and emotionally.

The mountains and valleys and streams speak to those who can hear, but the messages go not to the ears but to the heart!  

Two Birds on a Tree - A tale from Manduka Upanishad

Adam and Eve: The forbidden fruit

In the Genesis of the Old Testament lies the story of Adam and Eve, wherein God forbids that from the ‘tree of knowledge’ its fruit shall not be eaten. Eve ate first  (when Adam hesitated) and later he followed. With this, they were both banished from Paradise.

Quite similar, is the Upanisadic story (as told in the Manduka Upanishad) of the Pippala tree (representing the body), where two birds are perched, one (Jivatman, or individual self) who has eaten the fruit (sensual pleasure), and the other(Paramatman) who watches the first. The Upanishad eloquently describes the two birds: the former who has achieved Jiva (the individual self) and the other the Supreme reality, who knows himself as the Atman. 

Religious and philosophical truths have been shared through stories and parables. Through them rituals are performed to preserve this truth, but if the meanings are understood the ritual is not necessary, I would argue. Then, and now, this just points to one fact: the presence of a Universal Religion: one truth.

[Ram Nidumolu, someone who I met recently, wrote a book: Two Birds in a Tree, where he expounds on the story, and through his summary ‘tweets and seeds’ section provides pointers on lessons for Business Leaders].

Am Blind, But can See!

Date: 24^th May, 2006 Time: afternoon Venue: an Eye Clinic, Wadala

I leave office early today. My son is undergoing an operation. It’s a planned surgery. I have been getting regular updates through the morning by sms ( short messaging service) and on my cellular phone. As I settle down in the car, I glance thorough some of the unread updates, feel anxious still-so call up my wife too. I  hear that the operation has gone off well, the doctors are happy, my son is now slightly groggy, but otherwise fine. I sigh in relief, anxious to be with him soon. Fantastic! this cellular business, I think, you are always connected. What a wonder.

Somebody, shows me to the waiting room – a nice clean and quiet place. The air-conditioning is working quite fine and the room is tastefully done up. A nice picture hangs on one wall. The blinds are drawn, to prevent the sun glare from coming in. Comfortable and several plush sofas make you feel instantly settled down. A TV is running the news, while a ticker runs an update on stock prices. I have noticed the sensex is now in four digits.What’s happening to the markets, cannot people see what was coming was inevitable – were they blind?

I chat with my son for a while. He smiles weakly, then wonders why I ‘bunked’ office to come and see him, but I know he is glad to see me. He complains that he is hungry, that the doctor has still not allowed him to eat or drink yet. And he is hungry! He groans but then when he sees the look on my face, he stops himself. And he tries to look brave. We remind him we are both hungry too like him we too have skipped breakfast. He asks us to have a bite. I joke with him, that we are extending him moral support, by staying hungry with him, till he breaks his fast. I remind him of an ongoing student’s agitation – of many who have bravely gone on a hunger strike. Imagine their plight, I said. Gosh, hunger is painful, I think to myself. I wish they allow him some water to drink soon. And I know he would feel so much better once he eats something. We enquire, can we? No! Not yet. No drink or Food. We sit back impatiently – for the doctor to revert!

I sit back and glance through the room more carefully. I notice a lady in her late fifties talking animatedly to a younger lady in her thirties, the latter is wearing dark glasses. Within seconds I figure she is blind, her head almost fixed to one place as she spoke, characteristic of the someone who is blind, not temporally visually impaired. Like a perfect mother and daughter set! Interestingly, I did not notice a patronising conversation, one being more gentle to the other, the other submissive as a recipient). Instead they spoke casually, as equals. They took each other as adults and acted with complete authenticity.How nice, I thought. They seem to get on so famously well. She must be also waiting to go in for an operation of sorts, I thought.

I hear from my wife that they are here, on account of their daughter – the little one was diagnosed as having cancer in the eye! I stuck up a conversation with the ladies. The baby girl was being operated today – her right eye was to be replaced with an artificial one.Gosh! A blind mother, and a daughter whose one eye is visually impaired. Talk of rotten luck!  My thoughts were interrupted with my wife saying how cute the three year old looked. She commented on how brave she acted prior to going in for the operation.

Mother and daughter looked very calm and composed. Often they smiled, joked and broke out in gentle laughter. What a lovely relationship, these two enjoy, I thought.

The door opens gently again. In slow movements a pair of men entered the room. An elderly person and a younger man enter. The two ladies look up in silent acknowledgement. Ironically, the elderly person was guiding the younger person to a vacant sofa – then it all flashed in a second! The younger guy was blind too! And he was the father of the girl being operated. They were all here together. His parents, his blind wife and a partially blind daughter. And his parents. The sadness of it all gripped me.

The younger married couple spoke for a while to each other; first seriously. Then they laughed playfully with each other. Both listened patiently to each other as they spoke. Hmm, they were listening intently as if their eyes were doing all the seeing! In perfect harmony they spoke; not once did I notice they interrupt each other. I could feel the two of them closely touching each other, even while they were inches apart.

Suddenly the man straightened up. And he spoke aloud – “How is Sigmund doing?”. My son replied weekly. And then said, to him ,“My dad is here too, he just came a while ago”.

I said Hello loudly and I caught myself shouting. Stupid, I said to myself, he is blind not deaf. “I hear your daughter is being operated now?” Yes, he says, she will soon be going to school. We thought we should have her bad eye replaced with an artificial eye, so that student’s do not poke fun at her at school. And I am thinking – if not being born a girl is itself  bad enough with a large section of the community, a blind girl itself must be a catastrophe. How unfair it must be!

Was this operation necessary – a cosmetic necessity, because other children may poke fun? Should we not be training our children to be more sensitive, rather than the victim go through more ordeal for readjustment? Perhaps a bad eye may frighten other children; this must probably be best. The family must have thought through this surely.

We talked for quite a while. On hereditary factors- was blindness hereditary? Cancer of the eye is.

The husband spoke reasonable English, and seemed very aware of most things. The news, current affairs, local politics. I began to warm up to him as we spoke.

Suddenly, his cellphone rang. He stood up and walked over to me (his parents had both left the room a while back). What’s the number calling? He asked me. I read aloud the number, and he took the call. I dashed off an sms to my boss – why not work with some vendor to develop a Braille handset – what a wonderful thing it would be for the blind. I felt good with myself, then I admonished myself. Surely, they have far more complications to manage than a Caller Line Identification (CLI issue, as we cellular operators would call it in jargon). I waited for him to finish his call.

May I ask you a question if you don’t mind? I paused. What would you say is the most difficult part of being blind ? Is it navigating traffic, I suggested helpfully. He thought and so did his wife. They both considered the question for a while. Yes, I guess mobility is an issue he conceded. In cities like Mumbai, people are more helpful and guide you by hand across traffic, buy not so in smaller towns. We talked about this for a while.

I hear that those who are blind have their other senses even more sharpened, I asked. I knew the answer already. We see with our ears, the wife replied. You guys use your eyes 80%, your ears 20%.. Hmm, that’s true, I thought. I shut my eyes for a moment, knowing they could not see me doing so. I noticed I was staring at them quite intently, something I would not normally have done, if they were sighted. It appears I can see more, yet I suspect this pair understands more, I thought.

What work do you do I asked. I am a psycho-therapist he says. I enquire about his wife. He tells me she is a school teacher. I tell him, mine is too. She tells me she teaches in the primary section. I think, how compatible they are as a couple ,working too and it seem they were doing quite well! I felt good.

That’s good to hear, I said heartily. He said ‘You are excited on hearing about my work, many people do not care. They think blind people are useless. They cannot work and are a burden to society. That’s far from truth. The wife quickly joined in, “ people normally think, we should sit in one place, do nothing! That we are useless. Husband now joins in vociferously “ We are blind, that’s all’ But we have all other senses. We can speak intelligently and we can hear and we can do things and lead a perfectly normal life than anybody else can. It is unfair and wrong to believe that we are disadvantaged and we do not belong to the mainstream. We are just as normal as any body else, we are only blind.

‘You appear educated’, he continues and you seem to understand’. Do share the message, that blind people are not ‘ abnormal’. They are capable of doing most things that other people can do, even better! Share this with others, this is all I ask. Help eradicate the perception.

Does one voice count? Can I drown out and rectify walls of perception built over several years? Does my experience matter? Does this one conversation count?

That I have been impacted, would it be enough ?Joan Baes voice floats around-“I once was lost, but now am found; was blind but now can see. Tis’ grace that brought me home thus far, and grace shall take me home’.

I feel better for writing this up and sharing it with you my friend. I carry a candle lit, and offer it to you. It’s up to you – to light up yours, or let it pass. Someday, the world will be a better place, and you and I will be one, sings Lennon hopefully. Hum Honge Kamyab, Hum honge kamyab, ek din! Poora hai vishwas!

We are a patient nation! We wait patiently! And the song substitutes the grief, for now.

Culture is not a given, it is what is created

Culture is not a given, it is what is created

Yes, it is possible to create the culture you want!

To begin with, you start with the Vision you have for the organization: is it truly inspiring! Is it larger than what is currently thought possible? Does it grab your attention, stir up your emotion, makes you want to act? Most of all, does it feel intuitively right?

Next, are your Organizational Values promoting the behaviour towards the Vision? Does it act as a beacon guiding actions  which are exemplary towards the fulfilment of the vision? Our values come from our life experiences, and shapes the DNA on how we ‘act and feel’ about things around us.

To this, the next missing piece is the Strategy, with which we hope to compete in the market place. It shapes our performance ambition: our appetite for growth and sustainability.

Once you are clear on all of the above, then it is critical to get alignment to these on all systems and work processes that are present in the organisation, and would include:

• Management Review and Decision making Processes
• Talent Agenda and priorities process in place
• Work systems that allow for approvals and flow of goods and services
• Rewards and recognition Process
• Performance Management Systems
• External and Internal Communication Process
• Internal engagement processes. 

 Too often much work is done on the bullet points on a standalone basis. While benchmarking and best in class practices are useful to gain insights, it is more relevant to create designs that are bespoke for purpose within. It is only when there is deep consonance and alignment, that the appropriate winning culture is enabled. 

The role of senior leadership is to allow for challenge within the organisation and to be able to uphold the values, despite adversity. How it acts, each moment, will either reinforce or rubbish. There is no substitute to 'walk the talk'.