A (sometimes pleasurable) side effect of leading an eventful life is running into people from your past at the oddest of places. Now, I know this doesn’t sound like something I might look forward to, especially to people who know my history, given that my own career has been more chequered than a much-used chequerboard. But there are exceptions, rare as they may be, when I am filled with warmth & joy, a difficult to explain nostalgia, and frankly, love.
Saturday, 13 October 2018 was just such a day.
It so happened that Natashaji and I were taking a day off from stressful work (the #StartupLife isn’t as glamorous from the inside, as most people who have ever run one know) and decided to catch Andhadhun at the last moment at Inox Bund Garden, where we bought snacks way too large and way too unhealthy for a 40+-year-old couple, and stood aside stuffing our faces and people-watching, as is our usual pastime at a movie hall, when someone approached me from the crowd and said, “Hello!”
So, a bit of history for those who don’t know me well. I have had about 28 startups in as many years, and have met some amazing people, worked with some brilliant minds, and have had a chance to lead teams of highly professional and deeply driven people who shared my vision. One of these startups (which later became a transnational group of Indian companies, spread over 3 continents with 300 employees) had an early employee (within the first 10, in fact) who was offered the role of my babysitter (actually the job designation on paper was “Executive Assistant to the Chairman”).
I had no clue what her qualifications were, I had no understanding of what to even expect from an EA, I had no expectations except to have someone to look after stuff I would have had to do, but that which did not contribute to enhancing the quality of my professional life: Stuff like setting up appointments, reminders, dealing with vendors and customers, writing reports, preparing presentations, keeping track of my company expenses, liaising with other senior and middle management, and some part personal stuff like paying my bills on time and dealing with things like birthdays, gifting, ticketing, visas, and filing.
The trouble was that I was an asshole, to a large degree, and basically treated people like shit. I have admitted it in the past, and I think this needs a bit of explanation.
I was a young 32-year-old when I suddenly made it big. To my humble beginnings, this “big” was with a capital B-I-G, having millions of dollars splashing in my account. Then, I lost my head. Success, as is widely known, is a bad teacher. The worst, in fact. It teaches you all the wrong lessons, since whatever you touch turns to gold. You never learn what not to do, how to avoid rookie mistakes, how to plan for risk, how to look beyond your nose, or even how to react to the occasional failure.
More personally, it does not teach you empathy, understanding people, or seeking context, nuance, or perspective. Until catastrophic failure strikes, when you are left so helplessly at sea wondering what you did wrong that the lessons you ought to have learnt only come to you much in hindsight, when they are useless to you (unless, of course, you are a bloody bulldog, like my genetics fortunately dictated, and you start off once again, and again, and again, using the very lessons you learnt in every previous round, but making new mistakes, and then learning afresh!).
But that’s another story.
In this one, suffice to say that I was a very bad boss. No, cross that. I was a horrible boss. That my employees often told me I was “exacting” is beyond euphemism. It was a flattering lie. I was anal about punctuality, I rarely had a good word to say about their quality of work, I grabbed on and made much about minor spelling mistakes or bad formatting in official communication, I threw and tore work I did not like, I shouted at people and stared at their screens from over their shoulders when they were working, and required unquestioning compliance. I demanded total and immediate attention and obedience. In effect, I was the boss from hell. I needed a babysitter.
What I got was Sampada Gandhi aka Sam, a hyperactive, hyper-efficient, stern but soft-spoken, detail-obsessed, thorough professional with loyalty to the company and to me greater than my own loyalty to myself.
She not just took care of every professional need before I could think of it, but also managed my (and my family’s) affairs better than I could have dreamt of handling them. The surprising part (now it is evident) was that she always had time to humour me. If I wanted to know the report of a particular department, or even the company-wide gossip, or simply have a cup of tea, or just sit and chat about something on my mind, or instruct her on some work, or lay down (what I then thought to be) my grand ideas and vision to someone, she was the only person who never seemed to be busy and more importantly (given my reputation), never making excuses to get out of more than the strictly necessary time in my immediate vicinity! I have no clue how she managed it. In fact, let me be honest, I have been blessed, repeatedly, with some wonderfully efficient people who never seemed to work but always got their job done before time and within budgets. Sam was one of them. She became indispensable so quickly that I often wondered how the company could have done without her. Incidentally, such people make enemies very quickly in any organisation. Not Sam, though. She was perhaps the friendliest of people within the IndoGlobal Group of Companies…that is until she came up against something that she thought wasn’t in the interest of the business (or of me or my family). Then, she was a tigress! But that only made her more popular, with others as well as with me. Such was the magic she could weave.
She was also one of the few that I could (and did) take criticism from quite freely and openly, maybe because she was completely candid in her views and totally tuned to the interests of the organisation. I am still surprised how easily and readily I accepted her counsel, given how self-centred and full of myself I was then.
She joined us when we were a fledgeling 2-person unit, and grew with us to when we had 300 people across the globe.
She did leave once. For a short while. She came right back because, “My new boss makes spelling and formatting mistakes in his emails and I cannot stand it.” Of course, I was only too willing to resume as if nothing happened.
Unfortunately, the (financially) good times did not last (do they ever?). We suffered from some seriously bad decisions (mine) in North Africa and West Asia, which came in conjunction with the crash of Lehman Brothers in 2008, and before we knew it, we suddenly ran out of money. My mistakes of cross-subsidising Group companies, overpaying people, not recruiting well, and general overconfidence in my own abilities to weather storms led us lurching from one crisis to another. We started haemorrhaging business first, money next, and people very quickly. Salaries went unpaid, vendors were owed money, rents weren’t covered, and as I started making one mistake after another in a desperate bid to keep it all alive, I compounded matters until it all closed in on me. The Group teetered on the brink of insolvency and I had to shut shop.
In this entire cycle of startup to wild success to cataclysmic failure, only 3 employees stayed till the end, their dues unpaid, but their loyalty undiminished and their heads held high. Sam was one of them. She was the last to leave.
There’s a story I heard from her during the end days, when she was told by someone in the market that, “Kedar Gadgil is finished.” Her retort was, “Kedar Gadgil’s money is finished. Kedar Gadgil is not.” That was Sam.
Sadly, I never got to be friends with her. It was always a professional relationship, and while she knew all my secrets, I didn’t even know where she stayed, or what she brought in her tiffin for lunch. I have regretted to this day my lack of curiosity or empathy towards the scores of my ex-employees who I knew little about other than to view them as tools to achieve business goals.
But that was then, over 10 years ago. It was another time. Another life. Today, I am older. And I hope, wiser. And once again, that is another story for another day.
Now, with this background, I think the smart reader has probably guessed who it was that came up and said the “Hello” last Saturday at the cinema. SAM!
When I extended my hand to say “Hello,” she just hugged me. Before we knew it, we started speaking as if we were long-lost friends. I asked her jokingly where the other half of her was, given that she was looking so much slimmer and fitter, and she asked me where my new wife was (because, no doubt, I was looking happier!). So, Tashuji was duly introduced, who told her that whenever I remember my IndoGlobal days, I speak of her.
I do not remember much of what we spoke about, just standing there in a crowd, with her husband, her kid, and my wife, reduced to a blur and my thoughts going back in time to 15-16 years ago, when I was just an overgrown kid with a dream, and had taken the first step towards building what I thought would be my lasting legacy, but what was in fact, just one, large, narcissistic joyride.
In a way, I think it was for the better that it collapsed the way it did. I think it probably did me a whale of good, and in the long run, I do not miss an iota of it…except, of course, for the first-class seats & five-star hotels, and the yacht, and the houses in 3 continents, and the Swiss watches, and the monogrammed cigarettes, and the Single Malts bought at auction by my team of buyers in Edinburgh, and the Armani suits, and….oh, damn it! I am kidding. I don’t miss any of that. Been there. Done that. Lived life. And more importantly, worked with some fantastic people like Karthik Natarajan, Radhika Bali, and Sam.
Of course, I have learnt lessons. Lessons that only failure can teach you. And I have found people I’d hire or recommend to be hired or engaged without pausing for one little nanosecond. Katz is now one of my best friends and a co-founder in Tasha & Girl. Rads is another one of my best friends, and one of the most kickass corporate lawyers I have had the pleasure to have on my side of the table. And as for Sam: I can only hope we can become friends in time.
Here’s to the future. And damn the past.
