Greg McKeown: Essentialism - The Disciplined Pursuit of Less

Impressive!  I had the priviledge to hear Greg in person at SAP FKOM 2016.

https://youtu.be/T9x6D09AKBU

 

Steve Jobs..

I was sad to receive the news of Steve Jobs' untimely death. Ironically on my ipad. The world is a much better place because of his amazing inventions.

Steve Job’s own perspective on death:
“Death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it….death is very likely the best invention of life. It is a change agent. It clears out the old and makes way for the new. Remembering you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose”.

Steve Jobs’ 2005 Stanford Commencement Address

Ignacy J. Paderewski..

This is a true story that had happened in 1892 at Stanford University . Its moral is still relevant today.
-------------

A young, 18-year-old student was struggling to pay his fees. He was an orphan, and not know­ing where to turn for money, he came up with a bright idea. A friend and he decided to host a musical concert on campus to raise money for their education.

They reached out to the great pianist Ignacy J. Paderewski. His manager demanded a guaranteed fee of $2000 for the piano recital. A deal was struck. And the boys began to work to make the concert a success.

The big day arrived. Paderewski performed at Stanford. But unfortunately, they had not managed to sell enough tickets. The total col­lection was only $1600. Disappointed, they went to Paderewski and explained their plight. They gave him the entire $1600, plus a cheque for the balance $400. They promised to honour the cheque soonest possible.

"No." said Paderewski. "This is not acceptable." He tore up the cheque, returned the $1600 and told the two boys "Here's the $1600. Please deduct whatever expenses you have incurred. Keep the money you need for your fees. And just give me whatever is left" The boys were surprised, and thanked him profusely.

It was a small act of kindness. But it clearly marked out Paderewski as a great human being. Why should he help two people he did not even know? We all come across situations like these in our lives. And most of us only think "If I help them, what would hap­pen to me?" The truly great people think, "If I don't help them, what will happen to them?" They don't do it expecting something in return. They do it because they feel it's the right thing to do.

Paderewski later went on to become the Prime Minister of Poland . He was a great leader, but unfortunately when the World War began, Poland was ravaged. There were over 1.5 mil­lion people starving in his country, and no money to feed them. Paderewski did not know where to turn for help. He reached out to the US Food and Relief Administration for help.

The head there was a man called Herbert Hoover - who later went on to become the US President. Hoover agreed to help and quickly shipped tons of food grains to feed the starving Polish people. A calamity was averted.

Paderewski was relieved. He decided to go across to meet Hoover and person­ally thank him. When Paderewski began to thank Hoover for his noble gesture, Hoover quickly interjected and said, "You shouldn't be thanking me Mr. Prime Minister. You may not remember this, but several years ago, you helped two young students go through college in the US . I was one of them."

The world is a wonderful place. What goes around usually comes around.

Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel - The Boss..

A great article from the archives.  January 27, 1947.  Courtsey Time Mangazine.

Gandhi's toes were blistered. As he walked the flower-strewn paddyfield paths of eastern Bengal last week, through lines of Hindus and Moslems who wept and knelt to touch his bandaged feet, other Hindus and Moslems in distant Bombay chopped at each other with long knives. Twenty-two people died in the Bombay riots, including some Untouchables who were caught in the middle.

While Gandhi preached love and nonviolence to the Bengalis, an old jailbird named Vallabhbhai Patel, who calls himself "a blind follower of Gandhiji" and whom the British Raj had imprisoned eight of the past 16 years, had 40 Indian Communists, whom he hates, clapped into jail.

In short, everything was as usual in India, where the people are more fertile than the land and the paradoxes are more fertile than the people. India's pullulating contradictions obscured the view at a moment when it was more important than ever that the world understand what was going on in the seething subcontinent.

Princes & Paupers. On the 17th anniversary of the Indian Congress' Purna Swaraj (complete independence) resolution of Jan. 26, 1930, India was almost completely free of Britain but in danger of lapsing into anarchy. The infant country faced these problems, among others:

¶ Hatred between the Hindu and Moslem communities, which flared last August into the Great Calcutta Killing when 6,000 died, has now hardened into a grim struggle over Pakistan.

¶ Rising prices and falling production have intensified the conflict between millions of the poorest and some of the richest people in the world. Strikes are bubbling all over India. Communist power is rising. The Congress Party is likely to split into right and left groups and the Moslems face a similar division.

¶ While Gandhi continues to attack industrialization, some of his most devoted followers go ahead with plans to make India the industrial heart of Asia.

¶ Freedom for India does not affect the princely states, where 93 million (25%) Indians live. These are more or less despotically ruled by an anachronistic group of princes who have, on the average, 11 titles, 5.8 wives, 12.6 children and 3.4 Rolls-Royces. Sooner or later a free Indian nation will have to deal with them; right now the Communists are advocating expulsion of the princes.

Power Is the Spur. To bring under control this vast interplay of seemingly irresistible forces and immovable bodies would take more than the fanaticism of Moslem Leaguer Mohamed AH Jinnah, more than Jawaharlal Nehru's eloquent idealism, more, perhaps, than Gandhi's combination of mysticism and manipulation. India needed an organizer. It had one. Gandhi listened to God and passed on his political ideas to Vallabhbhai (rhymes with "I'll have pie") Patel; Patel, after listening to Gandhi, translated those ideas into intensely practical politics.

Patel has no pretensions to saintliness or eloquence or fanaticism. He is, in American terms, the Political Boss. Wealthy Hindu and Parsi industrialists (like C. H. Bhabha, Patel's son's employer, who has just become Works, Mines and Power Minister) thrust huge campaign funds into his hands. With their money, Congress Party patronage, and ceaseless work, he has built a machine that touches every one of India's conflicts. In every fight his objective is the same—power for India.

As Home and Information Minister of the new Central Government, as boss of the Congress Party, Patel represents what cohesive power Free India has. This cinder-eyed schemer is not the best, the worst, the wisest or the most typical of India's leaders, but he is the easiest to understand, and on him, more than on any man, except Gandhi, depends India's chance of surviving the gathering storms.

Interrupted Rubber. The first movement Patel ever organized was a student revolt against a teacher he accused of profiteering in pencils and paper. Later, Patel went to London, studied law 16 hours a day, topped the list in a bar examination and headed back for his beloved India without stopping to tour the Continent. He has never left India since.

His legal career was mainly defending murderers and bandits and frightening district magistrates with his caustic tongue. One magistrate, hearing that Patel was expanding his practice, moved his court to a town out of Patel's reach. In later years Gandhi found in Patel "motherly qualities" that eyes less inspired than the Mahatma's never saw. Today, Patel is coldly pleased when his enemies call him "the Iron Dictator" and "Herr Vallabhbhai." Enemies and friends tell an anecdote of his criminal law days. He had just put his wife in a Bombay hospital, returned to Ahmedabad to argue a murder case. He was on his feet when a telegram arrived. He read that his wife had died, put the telegram into his pocket and went on with his argument as if he had never been interrupted.

In 1915 Patel was playing bridge in Ahmedabad's Gujerat Club when he first saw his fellow lawyer Gandhi, fresh from agitational triumphs in South Africa. At that time Patel dressed in fancy Western clothes and affected the manners of the most pukka sahib Briton. When his eyes fell upon Gandhi, Patel interrupted his game long enough to make a few scathing remarks. A year later he joined Gandhi's movement.

By 1927, when Patel had become the mayor of Ahmedabad, unofficial capital of Gujerati-speaking India, his extraordinary skill as an organizer showed itself for the first time during the great Gujerat floods. Everything broke down—transport, communications, all methods of distribution. The general Indian attitude used to be to regard such catastrophes as acts of God What little relief there was usually came from a British Government which took its good time to relieve distress. Patel initiated an unheard-of fund-raising drive for the relief of the flood victims. Supplies were moved into the flood areas by hundreds of volunteers wading through waist-deep water, carrying boxes and sacks on their heads. When lumber was required for constructing small bridges or building houses, Patel arranged for it all without making a single approach to the Government. It seemed a miracle to Indians when all the lumber arrived on the scene in the needed sizes. By the time the Bombay provincial representatives got there, no official assistance was needed.

Nothing like it had ever been seen before in India. Here at last was organization by and for Indians.

Somber Masterpiece. Now that India seems to require miracles of organization if its Government is to survive, Indians recall Patel's organizational masterpiece, the Bardoli no-tax campaign of 1928. Despite the fact that crops had been bad for several years in the Bardoli district, a 25% tax increase was ordered by the Government assessors. This was precisely the opportunity Gandhi had been waiting for to launch the first real experiment in mass civil disobedience.

Patel took charge. Dressed in simple dhoti and shirt, he trudged from village to village, day after day, exhorting the peasants at every stop to stand fast and pay no taxes. "Some of you are afraid your land will be confiscated," he said in one speech. "What is confiscation? Will they take away your lands to England?" In another speech he set forth the principle that was to govern every Congress struggle of the future: "Every home must be a Congress office and every soul a Congress organization." Under Patel's orders the peasants' buffaloes, which the Government might have taken, were brought right into the peasants' houses. No servants would work for the Government collectors. Nobody would sell them food or give them water. Some property was, of course, confiscated and sold, but bidders were few. In all Bardoli not one rupee was collected in direct taxes.

A stunned Government finally asked Gandhi for terms. The upshot was a 6¼%, not a 25%, increase in taxes. Patel emerged from Bardoli with a new and exalted status. He received the unofficial title of "Sardar," meaning captain or leader, which he has carried ever since. (Lawyer K. F. Narriman was the first to call Patel "Sardar"; years later he and Patel quarreled and the Sardar forced Narriman out of Bombay politics.)

Money Makes the Mare Go. After Bardoli, Patel became recognized as the Congress Party's chief organizer and disciplinarian. He checked up on what Gandhi's followers ate, drank and wore. He passed on the party lists in provincial elections. He approved party-sponsored legislation, and personally drafted much of it. No detail was too unimportant or sordid for Boss Patel. Recently he took charge of negotiations between the Congress Party Ministry in Bombay and the Western Indian Turf Association, which wanted to renew its license for the Bombay racetrack. Patel, who has never seen a horse race, knew what the traffic would bear. He upped the license fee from half a million rupees to three million.

Although he has handled millions in party funds, Patel has no personal love of money. With his daughter Maniben, who acts as his secretary (she has accompanied him on most of his sojourns in British prisons), he now lives in a little suite in his son Dahyabhai's Bombay house. He eats little, drinks no alcohol, quit smoking when he first went to jail. In recent years he has had serious stomach trouble. His only exercise is a walk when he rises, at 4:30 a.m. His only recreation is bouncing a ball across the room to his grandchildren. He has never seen a movie. He cares little about the world outside his country. Of 300 books in his Bombay library, every one is by an Indian, mostly about India.

Patel's closest friend is probably Ghanshyam Das Birla, jute and cotton magnate, who boycotts his own textile mills by wearing khadi (homespun).* Though Birla dotes on Gandhi, he dreams of an industrialized India. (Birla has contracts with Britain's Nuffield for an India-assembled automobile called the Hindustan Ten.) India's liberals and leftists are stridently suspicious of Patel's friendship with Birla and the other big industrialists, but Birla insists that he seeks no Government favors. Says he: "I already have all the money I need."

Bedside Talks. Last week, sicker than usual, Patel stayed in bed. Few other 71-year-old men would call it a rest. From his visitors and from the distant effects of his bold and subtle schemes, it was apparent that in Patel's mind, at least, India was no chaos, but a puzzle to be fitted together with thought and patience.

Arthur Henderson, Under Secretary of State for India, came in for final talks on the liquidation of those superlatively damned and praised institutions, the Indian Civil and Police Services. The question boiled down to a matter of severance pay; the 850 remaining British members wanted to get out. It was up to Patel to find the new men who, with the 750 Indians in the two Services, would rule India.* Nehru called twice. He and Patel have a deep bond of mutual attachment to Gandhi and to Indian independence. Otherwise, politically and temperamentally, they are antipodal. Two subjects almost certainly mentioned in Nehru's bedside talks with Patel were the Moslems and the Marxists.

The Moslem League's Jinnah, also exhausted by the crisis and the long trip from the London conference (TIME, Dec. 16), was at Karachi struggling with a problem which Patel had fashioned for him. By meeting most of Jinnah's demands, Patel had passed back to the Moslems the decisions on whether or not they would enter the Constituent Assembly, which reconvenes this week. Patel, who has said that he could end communal strife in Congress Party provinces in six months, wanted a settlement; if he could get one, time would work in his favor in the struggle for control of India. He had the police power and his Hindus had the majority.

New Techniques. A settlement of the communal issue, even if it was temporary, would allow Patel to turn his attention to the growing labor strife. Late last summer, when a famine impended, a Communist-led strike had tied up south India railroads; a nationwide 25-day postal strike in July was also Communist-inspired. Two weeks ago Karachi dock workers walked off ten grain ships for ten days to get a wage of 94¢ daily. As a result of the stoppage, the rice ration in New Delhi was cut from twelve to eight ounces. In New Delhi 100,000 children were out of school because of a teachers' strike (87% of Indians are illiterate). In southwestern India even the aboriginal Warli tribesmen refused to perform farm work, tried to chase landlords off the land.

The worst recent labor flare-up came last fortnight at Cawnpore, where militant Communist-and Socialist-led workers have developed some new bargaining techniques. They locked a labor inspector in an office and made a factory manager stand bareheaded in the sun for four hours until he agreed to reinstate four discharged employees. When the district magistrate ordered the arrest of 100 labor leaders, workers marched in protest, women in front. Police used lathis. Workers threw stones. When the police opened fire, six were killed. Last week 100,000 Cawnpore workers were still out.

As if in answer to the strike wave, police last week raided Communist headquarters throughout India. Patel's Home Ministry denied that it had ordered the raids, but few familiar with the workings of the Criminal Intelligence Department believed that it was coincidence that brought police simultaneously to Red headquarters in Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta, Lucknow and seven other cities. India's Communist leader, smart, tousled Puran Chandra Joshi, followed the Moscow line by blaming the British for the raids.

The raiders were more thorough than bright. They searched homes as well as offices, spent 5½ hours going through the files of one Delhi office. A police official turned up a copy of Molotov's famous Paris speech of Aug. 5. He did not like what he read. "Who is this man?" he snapped. But Molotov was present only in spirit.

In spite of recent Communist gains, the Socialists, led by lithe, 44-year-old Jai Prakash Narain, are still the strongest group in the Congress Party's left wing. Narain went to the Universities of California, Wisconsin, Iowa and Ohio State, became a convert to Communism in Chicago, where he sat up late talking to intellectuals. Returning to India, he soon abandoned Communism for Socialism because the Communists tried to impose a Moscow-dictated line on India. Narain's estimated 1,000,000 followers (out of India's 4,000,000 industrial workers) do not include Narain's wife. She says: "I am faithful to Jai Prakash domestically, but to Gandhiji politically."

Which Way? Fidelity to Gandhiji was still the dominant note in Indian politics. But what did it mean in practical terms? Gandhi, in steaming Bengal, talked of love, and sang:

If they answer not to thy call, walk alone, If they are afraid and cower mutely, facing the wall, O thou of evil luck, Open thy mind and speak out alone.

Patel would not walk alone if he could help it. He was obviously trying to base the new Indian nation on a compromise of the communal issue, a mildly rightist line in the labor split—plus full use of the police power (which Gandhi deplored but Organizer Patel did not). When the British Cabinet Mission reminded Patel last spring that he might be sent to jail again for defying the Raj, Patel replied calmly: "My bags are packed." That is the way he understands the game, and that is the way he plays it, in & out of power.

The strong, repressive arm of law & order would be no permanent solution in a country where the average per capita wage is 5¢ a day and a quarter of the population of Bombay and Calcutta sleep on the streets. But the other horn of the dilemma is unrestrained freedom for communal and class conflict which, in a weak, new state, might disastrously degenerate into chaos. Patel is obviously going to try it his way. The Boss has performed miracles of organization before.

*Khadi is the official Congress uniform, supposed to symbolize Gandhi's cottage industry drive and to emphasize Congress leaders' connection with the toiling masses. But hand spinning is so inefficient that a khadi outfit costs as much as a good suit of English tweeds. *To Indians there are few if any callings higher than the Civil Service. A recent movie ad, stressing its subject's sacrificial devotion to her art, said: "She turned down an I.C.S. man to become a movie star!"

‘ટાઈમ’ મેગેઝિનના મતે સરદાર જ બોસ’ હતા..

આવનારાં વર્ષોમાં દેશના તમામ નેતાઓ ભૂલાઈ જવાના છે, પરંતુ ગાંધીજી અને સરદાર લોકોના માનસપટ પરથી કદીયે અદૃશ્ય નહીં થાય. કોંગ્રેસ પણ હવે જવાહરલાલ નહેરુને ભૂલતી જાય છે. ભાજપા વાજપેયીને પણ ભૂલી ગયું છે. ડીએમકે કામરાજને, તેલુગુદેશમ્ એન.ટી. રામારાવને અને એડીએમકે એમ. જી. રામચંદ્રનને ભૂલી ગયા છે, પરંતુ ભ્રષ્ટાચાર, ત્રાસવાદ અને વકરતા જતા પ્રદેશવાદના સમયમાં સરદાર સાહેબ વધુ યાદ આવે છે. સ્વિસ બેંકોમાં ભારતીય નેતાઓના સૌથી વધુ નાણાં હોવાનું મનાય છે ત્યારે સરદાર સાહેબે ‘ભારત કી એક્તા કા નિર્માણ’ પુસ્તકમાં લખ્યું હતું : “મારા પર ઘણી વાર આક્ષેપ થાય છે કે, હું બિરલાજીનો સાથી છું, મૂડીવાદીઓનો સાથી છું, પણ એ બધું ખોટું છે. જે દિવસથી મેં ગાંધીજીનો સાથ આપ્યો છે તે દિવસથી મેં એક પ્રતિજ્ઞા લીધી છે કે, હું મારી કોઈ પણ મિલકત રાખીશ નહીં. મેં ગાંધીજી પાસેથી શીખી લીધું છે કે, આનાથી વધુ બીજા કોઈ સમાજવાદમાં હું માનતો નથી.”

સરદાર સાહેબ પાસે પોતાની કોઈ જ ભૌતિક મિલકતો નહોતી. નહીં જમીન કે નહીં મકાન. સરદારને એક જ પુત્ર હતા તે ડાહ્યાભાઈ અને પુત્રી મણિબહેન. તેમણે પોતાના પુત્ર કે પુત્રીને જાહેરજીવનમાં કોઈ પણ અગ્રસ્થાને બેસાડવા પ્રયાસ કર્યો નહોતો. કોઈને પક્ષનો હોદ્દો કે ટિકિટ પણ આપી નહોતી. સરદારના પુત્ર ડાહયાભાઈ મુંબઈમાં મરીન ડ્રાઈવ વિસ્તારના ‘મેઘદૂત’ નામના ઘરમાં રહેતા હતા.

તે વખતે ડાહ્યાભાઈ પાસે એક મોટરકાર હતી. સરદાર મુંબઈ આવે એટલે પુત્રના ઘેર ઊતરે. એક વખત સરદાર મુંબઈ આવ્યા. એ વખતે તેમણે ડાહ્યાભાઈના ઘર આગળ બે એમ્બેસેડર મોટરકાર જોઈ. સરદારે પૂછયું : “ડાહ્યા, તારી પાસે તો એક જ મોટર હતી. આ બીજી ક્યાંથી આવી?”

ડાહ્યાભાઈએ કહ્યું : “એ તો બિરલા શેઠે ભેટ આપી છે.”

સરદારે કડક થઈ કહ્યું : “બિરલા શેઠ તને મોટર શા માટે ભેટ આપે એ ભલે તું ના સમજતો હોય, પરંતુ હું બધું સમજું છું. તું આ રીતે વેપારી લોકોની ભેટ લેતો થયો છે તેથી હું તારા ઘેર હવે રહી શકું નહીં.” - બસ સરદાર સાહેબે તેમના જીવનનો છેલ્લો દિવસ પોતાના એકના એક પુત્રના ઘેર ગાળ્યો અને તે પછી તેઓ કદીયે ડાહ્યાભાઈના ઘેર ઊતર્યા નહીં.

એ વખતે સરદાર સાહેબ દેશના નાયબ વડા પ્રધાન હતા. એક વખત ડાહ્યાભાઈએ મણિબહેનને પત્ર લખ્યો કે, “હું દિલ્હી આવવા માગું છું.” મણિબહેને એ પત્ર પિતાને વંચાવ્યો. સરદાર સાહેબે મણિબહેનને સૂચના આપી : “લખી દો એને, તારે દિલ્હી આવવાની કોઈ જરૂર નથી. એ રહ્યો વેપારી માણસ. જાણે-અજાણે પણ મારા નામનો ઉપયોગ થાય એ મને પસંદ નથી.”

સરદાર સાહેબની મિલકતમાં પતરાની એક પેટી, એક સગડી અને એલ્યુમિનિયમના બે લોટા જ છોડીને તેઓ ગયા.

સરદાર સાહેબને કોઈએ એક વાર પૂછયું હતું : “સરદાર, તમારું કલ્ચર વેસ્ટર્ન કલ્ચર છે કે ઇસ્ટર્ન?”

સરદાર સાહેબે કહ્યું હતું : “મારું કલ્ચર એગ્રિકલ્ચર છે.”

સરદાર સાહેબ બિનસાંપ્રદાયિક હતા, પરંતુ તેમને દંભી બિનસાંપ્રદાયિકતા ખપતી નહોતી. જિર્ણોદ્ધાર બાદ સોમનાથના મંદિરનો પ્રાણપ્રતિષ્ઠા મહોત્સવ યોજાયો ત્યારે સરદાર સાહેબે એ વખતના ભારતના રાષ્ટ્રપતિ રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુને સોમનાથ આવવા આમંત્રણ આપ્યું. રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુએ એ આમંત્રણ સહર્ષ સ્વીકારી લીધું. એ વખતના વડા પ્રધાન જવાહરલાલ નહેરુને આ વાતની ખબર પડતાં વડા પ્રધાનની હેસિયતથી રાષ્ટ્રપતિને સાત પાનાંનો પત્ર લખી જણાવ્યું કે, ભારત એક સાંપ્રદાયિક દેશ છે. ભારતના રાષ્ટ્રપતિ કોઈ મંદિરના પ્રાણ પ્રતિષ્ઠા મહોત્સવમાં જાય તે યોગ્ય નથી, પરંતુ સરદાર સાહેબ અને રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુ જુદી જ માટીથી ઘડાયેલા હતા. રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુએ જવાહરલાલને પત્ર લખી જણાવ્યું: “હું ભલે રાષ્ટ્રપતિ રહ્યો, પરંતુ તેથી હું હિન્દુ મટી જતો નથી.”

અને સરદાર સાહેબ તથા રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુએ જવાહરલાલની પરવા કર્યા વગર પ્રાણ પ્રતિષ્ઠા મહોત્સવમાં ઉમંગથી ભાગ લીધો.

આવા સરદારનું તા. ૧૫ ડિસેમ્બર, ૧૯૫૦ના રોજ મુંબઈમાં સવારે ૯.૩૮ કલાકે અવસાન થયું. સંપૂર્ણ રાજકીય સન્માન સાથે તેમની અંત્યેષ્ઠિ કરવાનો નિર્ણય લેવાયો, પરંતુ સરદારના પુત્ર ડાહ્યાભાઈ, પુત્રી મણિબહેને કહ્યું : “સરદાર ધરતીપુત્ર હતા. તેમના માટે એક એક સેન્ટિમીટરની જમીન પણ કીમતી હતી. તેમની સમાધિ માટે અલગ સરકારી જમીનનો ઉપયોગ કરવાની જરૂર નથી. તેમના અંતિમ સંસ્કાર એક સામાન્ય વ્યક્તિની જેમ સામાન્ય લોકોના સ્મશાનમાં જ થવા જોઈએ.”

અને સરદાર સાહેબના અંતિમ સંસ્કાર મુંબઈના સોનાપુરના સ્મશાનમાં કરવાનો નિર્ણય લેવાયો. સ્મશાયાત્રામાં મુંબઈના પુષ્કળ લોકો જોડાયા. એ વખતના વડા પ્રધાન જવાહરલાલ નહેરુ સરદારની અંતિમક્રિયામાં ભાગ લેવા ઇચ્છતા નહોતા. મહારાષ્ટ્રના નેતા સદોબા પાટિલે જવાહરલાલને ફોન કર્યો, પરંતુ નહેરુએ ના પાડી. સદોબા પાટિલે રાષ્ટ્રપતિ રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુને ફોન કર્યો. રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુ એ કહ્યું : “હું આવું છું.”

રાષ્ટ્રપતિ અંતિમક્રિયામાં જવાના હોઈ જવાહરલાલે પણ નાછૂટકે મુંબઈ આવવું પડયું. સ્મશાનમાં સદોબા પાટિલે સરદાર સાહેબની અંતિમક્રિયા વખતે અંજલિ આપવા માટે નાનો મંચ ઊભો કર્યો હતો. જવાહરલાલે કહ્યું : “સદોબા, આ બધું શું નાટક માંડયું છે?”

સદોબા પાટિલે કહ્યું : “આ તો રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુ વગેરેની ઇચ્છા છે કે, સરદાર સાહેબને અંજલિ આપવા બે શબ્દો બોલી શકાય.”

જવાહરલાલ નહેરુએ કહ્યું : “હું આવા લાગણીવેડામાં માનતો નથી. મૃત્યુ પામેલાઓના મૃતદેહ પર શું બોલવાનું?”

જવાહરલાલે બોલતાં તો બોલી નાખ્યું, પરંતુ બીજી બાજુ લાખો લોકો સરદાર સાહેબની અંતિમક્રિયા વખતે હાજર હતા. રાજેન્દ્ર બાબુએ જ પ્રવચન શરૂ કર્યું અને જવાહરલાલ નહેરુએ પણ નાછૂટકે બોલવું પડયું અને સરદાર સાહેબના પુત્ર ડાહ્યાભાઈએ પિતાને મુખાગ્નિ આપ્યો. લાખો લોકોની અશ્રુભીની આંખો સમક્ષ સરદારનો દેહ એક આમઆદમીની જેમ પંચમહાભૂતોમાં વિલીન થઈ ગયો.

આજે દિલ્હીમાં અનેક નેતાઓના ઘાટ અને સમાધિઓ છે, પરંતુ સરદાર સાહેબની અંતિમક્રિયા મુંબઈના એક સામાન્ય લોકોના સ્મશાનગૃહમાં થઈ હોઈ તેમની સમાધિ કે ઘાટ નથી.

સરદાર સાહેબને ઇંટો કે સિમેન્ટની બનેલી કોઈ જ સ્મૃતિની જરૂર નથી, સરદાર સાહેબની સમાધિ ભારતીયોના હૃદયમાં છે.

ગુજરાત સરકાર તો નર્મદાકિનારે સરદારશ્રીની પ્રતિમા તો જ્યારે ઊભી કરશે ત્યારે કરશે, પરંતુ ઘણા ઓછા લોકોને ખબર છે કે, નર્મદા તટે સરદાર સરોવર પાસે શ્રી સ્વામિનારાયણ સંસ્થાન મણિનગર તરફથી સરદાર સાહેબની ૧૨ ફૂટ ઊંચી ધાતુની પ્રતિમા ઇ.સ. ૨૦૦૦ના મિલેનિયમ વર્ષે જ સ્થાપિત કરી દેવામાં આવી છે. અમદાવાદના એરપોર્ટ ઉપર પણ સરદાર પટેલની કેનવાસ પર પૂરા કદની તૈલ પ્રતિમા શ્રી સ્વામિનારાયણ ગાદી સંસ્થાન તરફથી મૂકવામાં આવી છે અને ‘સરદાર પટેલ એક સિંહ પુરુષ’નું પુસ્તક પણ પ્રકાશિત કરવામાં આવ્યું છે. સંસ્થાના સ્થાપક મુક્તજીવન સ્વામીના પિતા મૂળજીભાઈ તુલસીભાઈ પટેલના સરદાર સાહેબ પ્રિય સાથી હતા અને મુક્તજીવન સ્વામી પણ સરદારશ્રી પ્રત્યે અત્યંત આદર ધરાવતા હોઈ મંદિરના આર્કાઈવ્ઝમાં ૧૯૪૭ની સાલના ‘ધી ટાઈમ’ મેગેઝિન જેવાં અલભ્ય સામયિકો સંગ્રહિત કરવામાં આવ્યાં છે. ન્યૂયોર્કથી પ્રગટ થતા ‘ટાઈમ’ ના ૧૯૪૭ના જાન્યુઆરી માસના અંકમાં આ મેગેઝિને સરદાર સાહેબની તસવીર સાથે ‘ધી બોસ’ શીર્ષક સાથે એક વિસ્તૃત લેખ પ્રગટ કર્યો હતો અને સરદાર સાહેબ ગાંધીજીના કેવા મજબૂત સાથી હતા, કેવી સાદગી અપનાવતા હતા અને લોકો પર તેમનો કેવો જાદુ હતો તેનું વિસ્તૃત વર્ણન કર્યું છે. આજના આ કક્ષમાં ‘ટાઈમ’ મેગેઝિનના કવર પેજની એ દુર્લભ તસવીર મૂકવામાં આવી છે.

De Di Hamen Azadi Bina Khadag..

Today is Gandhiji's death anniversary.  Here's an excellent tribute to Mahatma Gandhi by Pradeep in voice of Asha. Music by Hemant Kumar.  A beautiful song from movie "Jagruti", 1954!



INDIA: End of Forever..

A great article from the archives. January 30, 1947.  Courtsey Time Mangazine.

On a turf-covered plain near Delhi, a splendid assemblage gathered Jan. 1, 1877. The High Officers and Ruling Chiefs of India took their seats behind a gilt railing in an amphitheater of blue, white, gold and red, to hear Queen Victoria proclaimed first Empress of India. They rose to their feet as a flourish of trumpets announced the arrival, across 800 feet of red carpet, of His Excellency the Viceroy, Edward Robert Bulwer-Lytton, Second Baron Lytton. The proclamation was read, the Royal Standard was hoisted, and artillery fired a grand salute of 101 salvos. Mixed bands played God Save the Queen, then trumpeted the blaring march from Tannhduser. Richly caparisoned elephants trumpeted too, and rushed wildly about with trunks erect when they heard the roll of musketry.

His Highness the Maharaja Sindia was first to congratulate (in absentia) the new Empress: "Shah-en-Shah Padishah [Queen of Queens], May God bless you. The Princes of India bless you and pray that your sovereignty and power may remain steadfast forever."

Bleats of a Goat. "Forever" might have been a longer time if it had not been for a scrawny, timid schoolboy then in the northwest India town of Porbandar on the Arabian Sea, 700 miles away. Mohandas Kamarchand Gandhi was eight years old at the time of the Great Durbar at Delhi. He was already sensitive about his British rulers. His schoolmates used to recite a bit of doggerel:

Behold the mighty Englishman! He rules the Indian small, Because being a meat eater He is five cubits* tall.

Although his parents were pious Vaishnavas (a Hindu sect which strictly abstains from meat eating), Gandhi was goaded a few years later into sampling goat meat to emulate the British. "Afterwards," he reported, "I passed a very bad night. . . . Every time I dropped off to sleep, it would seem as though a live goat were bleating inside me; and I would jump up full of remorse."

Gandhi's frail body never grew beyond no pounds, but the youthful conscience matured into a towering spirit that laid the meat eaters low, five cubits or not. Winston Churchill had once called Gandhi "a half-naked, seditious fakir. . . . These Indian politicians," he said in 1930, "will never get dominion status in their lifetimes." But 70 years after the Great Durbar both Gandhi and Churchill were still alive, and freedom was only 50 days away.

Froth of a Flood. Last week in New Delhi, Queen-Empress Victoria's great-grandson, Rear Admiral Viscount Mountbatten of Burma, Viceroy of India, was working hard to get out of India as fast as he could. To Hindu and Moslem politicos responsible for setting up two new dominions in India before mid-August he sent memos reminding them "only 62 more days," "only 55 more days." The British did not rely on Hindu and Moslem leaders' continuing to work together. The British wanted to clear out before India blew up in their faces.

On the outskirts of New Delhi, in the dingy, dungy Bhangi (untouchable) Colony, Gandhi was not jubilant, although the British were leaving at last. To him, the violence and disunity of India were a personal affront. To Gandhi, ahimsa (nonviolence) is the first principle of life, and satyagraha (soul force, or conquering through love), the only proper way of life. In the whitewashed, DDT-ed compound which serves him as headquarters, Gandhi licked his soul wounds: "I feel [India's violence] is just an indication," he told his followers, "that as we are throwing off the foreign yoke, all the dirt and froth is coming to the surface. When the Ganges is in flood the water is turbid."

Ironically, Gandhi himself, who has spent a lifetime trying to direct the waters into disciplined channels, had helped to roil his people into turbulence. What he had called the "dumb, toiling, semi-starving millions," who revered (and sometimes worshiped) Gandhi, could understand him when he cried for their freedom; they could not always understand him when he told them they must not use violence to win that freedom. "To inculcate perfect discipline and nonviolence among 400,000,000," he once said, "is no joke."

A Young Bird Knows. Gandhi seriously began his own self-discipline when he went to South Africa as a London-educated vakil (barrister) at the age of 23. There he first felt the full weight of the white man's color bar. More & more he neglected a lucrative law practice to lead his fellow Indians in a fight against local anti-Indian laws.

A British friend lent him Count Leo Tolstoy's The Kingdom of God is Within You. The Russian Christian's doctrine of nonviolent resistance to unjust rule gripped the Hindu lawyer's mind. "Young birds," wrote Tolstoy, ". . . know very well when there is no longer room for them in the eggs. ... A man who has outgrown the State can no more be coerced into submission to its laws than can the fledgling be made to re-enter its shell."

Gandhi broke his shell. He decided manual labor was essential to the good life; he still thinks Indians will find peace only through making their own clothes on the charka (spinning wheel). So he gave up a legal practice bringing in about £5,000 a year, moved to a farm settlement where his helpers worked the ground, and began to get out a newspaper, Indian Opinion.

Gandhi mobilized local Indians for his first civil disobedience campaign. They won repeal of some anti-Indian laws from an obstinate South African Government. In 1915, aged 45, he returned to Bombay, the hero of India.

Colossal Experiment. The first year after his return Gandhi toured much of India. The gentle ascetic in loincloth, walking among the villages, won the hearts of millions of Indians. "Gandhi says" became synonymous with "The truth is," for many a peasant and villager. When simple peasants crowded round to see him (many tried to kiss his feet), Gandhi tried to stop "the craze for darshan" (beholding a god).

The Mahatma (Great Soul), as he came to be called, insisted he was a religious leader, not a politician. "If I seem to take part in politics," he said, "it is only because politics today encircle us like the coils of a snake from which one cannot get out no matter how one tries. I wish to wrestle with the snake. ... I am trying to introduce religion into politics."

Applied to India, that meant to Gandhi that people could not be pure in thought, word and deed unless they were their own masters. So he began to work for Indian independence. He found India's "struggle" for independence in the hands of a few well-educated Indians. The Indian National Congress,* was a polite debating society, pledged to win dominion status for India by "legitimate" means. Gandhi converted it into a mass movement. Indian peasants did not worry about independence until Gandhi told them to.

British repressive measures after World War I convinced Gandhi that the British would never willingly give India dominion status. So he organized satyagraha. This first campaign came near to unseating the British Raj. "Gandhi's was the most colossal experiment in world history, and it came within an inch of succeeding," admitted the British governor of Bombay.

Himalayan Miscalculation. But passive resistance always erupted into violence. When he saw the bloodshed that followed his call for resistance, Gandhi was overwhelmed with remorse. He called off his campaign in 1922, admitted himself guilty of a "Himalayan miscalculation." His followers were not yet self-disciplined enough to be trusted with satyagraha. To become a "fitter instrument" to lead, Gandhi imposed on himself a five-day fast.

The pattern repeated itself in later years. The ways of passive action—the sari-clad women lying on railway tracks, the distilling of illicit salt from the sea, the boycotting of British shops, the strikes, the banner-waving processions—would lead to shots in the streets, to burning and looting. Gandhi always punished himself for his followers' transgressions by imposing a fast on himself.

With each fast, each boycott, and each imprisonment (by a British Raj which feared to leave him free, feared even more that he would die on their hands and enrage all India), Gandhi came closer to his goal of a free India. With the same weapons he got in some blows at his favorite social evils—untouchability, liquor, landlord extortions, child marriages, the low status of women.

But as he wrestled, India and Indian politics changed along the road. The Indian National Congress, which claimed to represent Indians of every religious community, finally had to admit that Mohamed Ali Jinnah spoke for the Moslems. Left-wing groups left the Congress, Communists led by Puran Chandra Joshi threatened the placid order of the agricultural, home-industrial India which Gandhi strove for. The Congress leadership (since 1941 Gandhi has ruled only from the sidelines) passed more & more to a group of well-to-do conservatives bossed by Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel.

The only outstanding exception was socialistic Jawaharlal Nehru. Indian independence was certain to be followed by a struggle for economic power. For all these bewildering problems Gandhi had an answer: hurt no living thing; live simply, peacefully, purely. But fewer & fewer listened to that part of his advice. Just as Gandhi had outgrown the shell of the British Raj, so Indian nationalism, Hindu and Moslem, showed signs of outgrowing Gandhi's teachings.

Horse Trading. The India of New Delhi politicians was little concerned with soul force. Old (70), rabble-rousing Mohamed Ali Jinnah, head of the Moslem League, was greeted by followers with shouts of "Shah-en-Shah Zindabad" (Long live the King of Kings). His birthplace, Karachi, would probably be capital of the new Pakistan, possibly be renamed Jinnahabad.

Jinnah was already using his new power to disrupt India further. In the face of Jawaharlal Nehru's blunt warning to the Indian princes ("We will not recognize the independence of any state in India"), Jinnah began courting them. Most princes had already decided to join Hindu India (see map), but the Nizam of Hyderabad (a Moslem) and Maharaja of Travancore (a Hindu) had each said he would go it alone. Jinnah dangled alliance-bait before them: "If states wish to remain independent ... we shall be glad to discuss with them and come to a settlement." Big Kashmir, still on the fence, was ruled by a Hindu, but its 76% Moslem population would probably bring it into Pakistan sooner or later.

Last week Harry St. John B. Philby, Briton-turned-Moslem, familiar intriguer in the Arab world and intimate of Saudi Arabia's King Ibn Saud, arrived in India "to buy tents." He went into a huddle with Moslem Leaguers and Hyderabad officials. Delhi was sure Jinnah was angling for the support of Moslem states in the Middle East.

His Pakistan would be strong agriculturally (with a wheat surplus in the rich Punjab, 85% of the world's jute an eastern Bengal), but weak industrially.

Pakistan would begin its career with no cotton mills, jute mills, iron or steel works,† copper or iron mines. Jinnah hoped to compensate for this weakness with foreign support, might keep Pakistan a British dominion even if Hindu India declared complete independence.

What Will Happen? But these maneuverings were remote from the India of mud and dung and (endless toil, which wondered in bewilderment what was happening to it. The little man in India had never asked for Pakistan or Hindustan or even for independence, except when his leaders told him. He was scarcely aware who ruled him. Recently a tattered Hindu peasant helped to repair a blowout on a car in the Punjab. Asked what he thought of the Government in New Delhi (now a temporary, joint Hindu-Moslem Cabinet, operating under viceregal veto), he replied, "I never heard of it."

If the symbol of unity at New Delhi was remote, the communal hatred that had forced the partition now faced was real enough. On both sides of the new dividing line, between Pakistan and Hindu India, minority groups wondered what to do. A Moslem tonga (two-wheeled carriage) driver, who had lived 20 years in Delhi, thought of moving to the Punjab. "I will wait and see what happens," he said. "If there is any trouble, I will send for my mother, my sister and my two buffalo, on my farm in the United Provinces." But it would cost him $50 to move to the Punjab—and the meager amount he collects in fares barely pays for food on the black market. Besides, he was still paying off a $200 debt incurred when he had tried vainly to save the life of a typhoid-stricken son.

A Hindu milkman in Bombay thought of moving his 68-year-old father from the Lahore district (which will go to Pakistan). "We own half a dozen cows and bullocks and three-quarters of an acre of land. My father would hate to leave our village and breathe the foul air of Bombay. I, my wife and five children are sharing a one-room apartment with another couple with three children. How can I accommodate my father? But I must bring him down. I cannot abandon him to Pakistan."

A Pathan watchman from the North-West Frontier Province thought he might have to go back to the barren soil of his native district. "The Hindu who owns the firm where I work has given me notice, saying he cannot trust foreigners to guard his shop. Who will give me jobs now? What will happen to my family?"

Who Will Pay? A Hindu chaprasi (office boy) in a Delhi Government office, who owned three acres of land in a Pakistan district, thought he had better bring his wife and family to Delhi. But then he would have to sell his land. "Who will pay a good price for my property?" he asked. "I tried to sell it recently, but some Moslems who were originally prepared to purchase it now say they will get it anyway, once Pakistan comes into being, for little or no money."

All along the prospective border between Pakistan and Hindu India, minorities were on the move. From little villages in the Moslem Punjab, Hindu and Sikh traders and moneylenders trekked to Delhi or the United Provinces. Among them were men who had been in charge of rationing food and clothing during the war, and men who profited by high wartime prices.

Returning Punjabi soldiers last year had turned in hate against the moneylenders, merchants and all their coreligionists. In Bengal it had been the same. While 1½ million died of famine, landowners and food dealers, Moslem and Hindu alike, had reaped profits of 1½ billion rupees. "Every death in the famine," estimated the Woodhead Famine Enquiry Commission two years ago, "was balanced by roughly a thousand rupees of excess profit." The economic grievance of peasants against landlords and profiteers became a religious fight.

In the cities, as always, the warnings of conflict and disorder were sharpest. Throngs of wartime jobholders were idle. In sweltering Calcutta, it took but the flick of a Moslem cigaret butt against the flanks of a sacred Hindu cow, or a Hindu tonga driver's bumping a Moslem child, to start a fight that would engulf the city. Last week Calcutta was still divided into "Pakistan" and "Hindustan" quarters, with strong points bristling with .barbed wire and machine guns. A Hindu driver dared not cross into a Moslem quarter, nor a Moslem into "Hindustan." In Bombay, where Hindus and Moslems had formerly lived mixed in together, streetcar signs now said "Pakistan Bombay," meaning the Moslem quarter.

"Are You Happy?" With the political leaders' agreement to partition India had come a lull in communal fighting. But last week it flared again at Lahore in the Punjab. In the Gurgaon district near Delhi, Moslem and Hindu-Sikh tribes still burned and looted each other's villages. There, for the first time in communal riots, firearms were used on a big scale by each side. The embattled tribes had been turning out homemade wooden rifles, six feet long. In a divided India, where 38 million Moslems are still within the borders of Hindu India, 18 million Hindus and two million Sikhs within Pakistan, few supposed that political deals in Delhi could really repair the breach between religious communities.

One Moslem, who had lost his leather works in riots at Amritsar, no longer cared whether he was in Pakistan or Hindustan. Unshaven and ragged, Chaudhri Ahmen Hasan wandered aimlessly among the ruins of his property, carrying a big framed photograph of Jinnah. From time to time Hasan paused and addressed the picture: "Are you happy now, Qaid-e-Azam [Great Leader]? You have at last achieved Pakistan."

One Hindu, Mohandas Gandhi, still hoped to bring Hindus and Moslems together in a united India. If, in spite of divisive forces, India's 400 million really form themselves into a nation in the modern sense, Gandhi will have brought off (almost as a by-product of his larger purpose) a revolution greater than Danton's, bigger than Lenin's. The subcontinent had never been a nation; its separate peoples had, however, tolerated each others' very different ways of life. As both a politician and a Great Soul. Gandhi knew that if tolerance was replaced by permanent hatred, there would be not just two Indias, but no India. For India's future, nonviolence was not a philosopher's dream, but a political necessity.

Far closer than Queen Victoria's little isle was the Soviet Union which might, like Britain before it, exploit the weakness of a divided India to win hegemony. Already Puran Chandra Jpshi, India's grinning Communist leader,' and other Russian agents had a small (50,000), growing, tightly organized machine within India. If dissension grew in India, Joshi's grin (and Russia's chance) would grow with it.

Road to Noalchali. Across the northern frontier, in the Tajik Socialist Soviet Republic, loomed Mt. Stalin (24,590 ft.) and Mt. Lenin (23,386 ft.), mightiest peaks of the U.S.S.R. Gandhi's thoughts last week turned to the lowest part of India, the mushy flats of Noakhali at the mouth of the Ganges. That part of Bengal, where Moslems and Hindus are mixed, will become part of Pakistan.

Noakhali was the first place Gandhi visited last spring in his tour of India's riot areas. Barefoot, staff in hand, leaning on his grandniece Manu, he had padded through the water-soaked fields and the mixed Moslem-Hindu villages, preaching peace. Last week Gandhi planned a symbolic return. "My work is in Noakhali," he said. "Nobody will prevent me from going there." For Gandhi considered himself a citizen of both new Indian states. "I will go freely to all parts of India . . . without a passport." The question was, would other Indians be able to do the same?

*Length of biblical (and British) cubit: 18 inches. David's Goliath towered six cubits and a span (9 ft. 9 in.).


*Allan Octavian Hume, a British theosophist and retired civil servant, founded the Congress in 1885. He persuaded the Viceroy, Lord Dufferin, that the best way to combat growing unrest in the villages was to let Indian leaders discuss political development.


†The great 1,2500,000-ton plant at Jamshedpur is owned by the Parsi Tata clan and manned mostly by Hindus.

Respond instead of reacting: Azim Premji

February 10, 2004

I am very happy to be here with you. It is always wonderful to be with young people. The funny thing about life is that you realize the value of something only when it begins to leave you. As my hair turned from black, to salt and pepper and finally salt without the pepper, I have begun to realize the importance of youth. At the same time, I have begun to truly appreciate some of the lessons I have leant along the way. I hope you will find them useful when you plan your own career and life.

The first thing I have learnt is that we must always begin with our strengths. From the earliest years of our schooling, everyone focuses on what is wrong with us. There is an imaginary story of a rabbit. The rabbit was enrolled in a rabbit school. Like all rabbits, it could hop very well but could not swim. At the end of the year, the rabbit got high marks in hopping but failed in swimming. The parents were concerned. They said, "Forget about hopping. You are anyway good at it. Concentrate on swimming."

They sent the rabbit for tuitions in swimming. And guess what happened? The rabbit forgot how to hop! As for swimming, have you ever seen a rabbit swim? While it is important for us to know what we are not good at, we must also cherish what is good in us. That is because it is only our strengths that can give us the energy to correct our weaknesses.

The second lesson I have learnt is that a rupee earned is of far more value than five found. My friend was sharing me the story of his eight year-old niece. She would always complain about the breakfast. The cook tried everything possible, but the child remained unhappy. Finally, my friend took the child to a supermarket and brought one of those ready-to-cook packets. The child had to cut the packet and pour water in the dish. After that, it took two minutes in the microwave to be ready. The child found the food to be absolutely delicious? The difference was that she has cooked it!

In my own life, I have found that nothing gives as much satisfaction as earning our rewards. In fact, what is gifted or inherited follows the old rule of come easy, go easy. I guess we only know the value of what we have if we have struggled to earn it.

The third lesson I have learnt is no one bats a hundred every time. Life has many challenges. You win some and lose some. You must enjoy winning. But do not let it go to the head. The moment it does, you are already on your way to failure. And if you do encounter failure along the way, treat it as an equally natural phenomenon. Don’t beat yourself for it or any one else for that matter! Accept it, look at your own share in the problem, learn from it and move on. The important thing is, when you lose, do not lose the lesson.

The fourth lesson I have learnt is the importance of humility. Sometimes, when you get so much in life, you really start wondering whether you deserve all of it. This brings me to the value of gratitude. We have so much to be grateful for. Our parents, our teachers and our seniors have done so much for us that we can never repay them. Many people focus on the short comings, because obviously no one can be perfect. But it is important to first acknowledge what we have received. Nothing in life is permanent but when a relationship ends, rather than becoming bitter, we must learn to savour the memory of the good things while they lasted.

The fifth lesson I learnt is that we must always strive for excellence. One way of achieving excellence is by looking at those better than ourselves. Keep learning what they do differently. Emulate it. But excellence cannot be imposed from the outside. We must also feel the need from within. It must become an obsession. It must involve not only our mind but also our heart and soul. Excellence is not an act but a habit. I remember the inspiring lines of a poem which says that your reach must always exceed your grasp. That is heaven on earth. Ultimately, your only competition is yourself.

The sixth lesson I have learnt is never give up in the face of adversity. It comes on you suddenly without warning. One can either succumb to self-pity, wring your hands in despair or decide to deal with the situation with courage and dignity. Always keep in mind that it is only the test of fire that makes fine steel. A friend of mine shared this incident with me. His eight-year old daughter was struggling away at a jigsaw puzzle. She kept at it for hours but could not succeed. Finally, it went beyond her bedtime. My friend told her, "Look, why don’t you just give up? I don’t think you will complete it tonight. Look at it another day." The daughter looked with a strange look in her eyes, "But, dad, why should I give up? All the pieces are there! I have just got to put them together!" If we persevere long enough, we can put any problem into its perspective.

The seventh lesson I have learnt is that while you must be open to change, do not compromise on your values. Mahatma Gandhiji often said that you must open the windows of your mind, but you must not be swept off your feet by the breeze. You must define what your core values are and what you stand for. And these values are not so difficult to define. Values like honesty, integrity, consideration and humility have survived for generations. Values are not in the words used to describe them as much as in the simple acts. At the end of the day, it is values that define a person more than the achievements. Because it is the means of achievement that decide how long the achievements will sustain. Do not be tempted by short cuts. The short cut can make you lose your way and end up becoming the longest way to the destination.

And the final lesson I learnt is that we must have faith in our own ideas even if everyone tells us that we are wrong. There was once a newspaper vendor who had a rude customer. Every morning, the Customer would walk by, refuse to return the greeting, grab the paper off the shelf and throw the money at the vendor. The vendor would pick up the money, smile politely and say, "Thank you, Sir." One day, the vendor’s assistant asked him, "Why are you always so polite with him when he is so rude to you? Why don’t you throw the newspaper at him when he comes back tomorrow?" The vendor smiled and replied, "He can’t help being rude and I can’t help being polite. Why should I let his rude behaviour dictate my politeness?

In my youth, I thought of myself as a rebel and was many times, a rebel without a cause. Today, I realize that my rebellion was another kind of conformity. We defied our elders to fall in line with our peers! Ultimately, we must learn to respond instead of reacting. When we respond, we evaluate with a calm mind and do whatever is most appropriate. We are in control of our actions. When we react, we are still doing what the other person wants us to do.

I wish you all the best in your life and career. I hope you achieve success in whatever way you define it and what gives you the maximum happiness in life. Remember, those who win are those who believe they can.
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Address by Azim Premji, Chairman, Wipro Corporation, in the "Shaping Young Minds Program" (SYMP) organized by the All India Management Association (AIMA) in collaboration with the Bombay Management Association (BMA) on February 9, 2004 at NCPA in Mumbai on " My Lessons in Life".

Remembering Mahatma Gandhi..

Yesterday was Mahatma Gandhi's birthday - October 2nd. Here's one song I remember which pays appropriate tribute to him.

Asha Bhonsle sang this Hemanta Mukherjee composition, written by Kavi Pradeep - in a tribute to the Mahatma.