Everything works

AGKSPEAK: A G Krishnamurthy

Infrastructure is an odd product to advertise on national television. It is not something that you can go buy, but yet perhaps it is more responsible than any other advertised product for the smile on our faces as we step out of our homes to face the day.

A terribly potholed road can drain our happiness with the first shuddering bump, an interminable queue at the airport for a security check after doling out dear money for a business-class seat can give you an instant stress headache, and of course, your frustration hits a peak when power grinds to a halt just as you are getting ready.

This is why every time I see the wonderful world visualised by GMR's "Indiastructure" TVC, I can't but help drift off with them into their fantasy land where everything works. If ever there was an ode to the concept of a shining new India, this is it.

Every frame reflects it. It is a world of genteel grace and good humour; and yes, these bygone emotions are the likely happy consequences of efficient infrastructure. This TVC is also a kind of milestone because it is one of the first few instances of private sector participants taking charge of what was once the sole domain of the government. This is something new, and something to celebrate.

Best of all, this is just the start. I must admit it is going to be a refreshing and novel experience for me to see a company's logo as the builder of the road that I travel on. So habituated are we to accepting government patronage in all public infrastructure that it hardly occurs to the majority of us that there could be a possiblity that roads, bridges and airports could be built and owned by some company or the other.

The fact that we now live in an India where the impossiblities of yesterday have become the very real possibilities of today is what contributes to the general feeling of well-being in the country. And the GMR commercial, airing on several television channels in India, is a fitting tribute to this new wave of change.

What I've learned
All it takes is one grain of rice

Long, long before the term "thin slicing" was introduced to the world by Malcolm Gladwell, and a brilliant premise it definitely is, this piece of wisdom is something that I was taught by my mother as she stood in her kitchen getting our daily meal ready.

I remember her picking out one grain of rice from a steaming mass, gently testing it between her fingers and then nodding sagely and assuring me: "Just five minutes more." I could never understand how she figured this out, but she did go on to use this analogy once when she was trying to explain that all you needed to judge the character of a person was just one tiny window of exposure.

In fact, it's a popular saying in our language. Even though I was too young to comprehend the lesson when I was taught it, it has come back to me repeatedly over the past two and half decades. As the head of an organisation, interviewing candidates is part and parcel of the job.

The tough part is that you are expected to make a major decision that has the potential of affecting your company's bottomline and the lives and careers of your other employees as well. And the truth is you can never know enough of a person over a cup of tea, an exhaustive resume or even word-of-mouth.

He or she might have been a poor performer in his previous organisation and could have been waiting for the right environment to bloom, or conversely, as is the case most of the time, he or she could be very highly talked about in the previous job and a dismaying misfit in yours.

So how do you decide? Just as young girls are taught over and over again by their mothers to judge an entire pot by testing one grain of rice, we too learn to pick up cues and hints through experience. I have made quite a few mistakes of my own and learnt hard lessons from each one of them, have placed my faith in many and have been let down badly by some, but at the end of the day, we consider ourselves lucky if even five out of the 10 people we've judged have proved us right.

And just like the veteran housewife who sometimes can judge a pot of rice just by looking at it, we too gradually acquire the skill of knowing when the person sitting across the table is the one we are looking for. And when we do acquire this art of thin slicing, we don't require much. A look, an involuntary facial reaction, a stray unrelated comment, or even non-reaction, can be that crucial window that a seasoned interviewer is looking for.

And when it does appear, sometimes in a flash, an entire landscape of personality traits opens up for view.

agkbrandconsult@yahoo.com