As managers we often feel help needs to be given in a particular manner due to lack of time spend understanding the situation, based on our perceptions and assumptions. Here’s a reminder on how help given with the best intentions can cause harm as opposed to helping a situation

A man found a cocoon for a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared, he sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through the little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared stuck.

The man decided to help the butterfly and with a pair of scissors he cut open the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. Something was strange. The butterfly had a swollen body and shrivelled wings. The man watched the butterfly expecting it to take on its correct proportions. But nothing changed.

The butterfly stayed the same. It was never able to fly. In his kindness and haste the man did not realise that the butterfly’s struggle to get through the small opening of the cocoon is nature’s way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight.

Like the sapling which grows strong from being buffeted by the wind, in life we all need to struggle sometimes to make us strong.

When we coach and teach others it is helpful to recognize when people need to do things for themselves.

Here is a humorous story on what can happen if the audience need is not carefully identified and training delivered in accordance.

An old hill farming crofter trudges several miles through freezing snow to his local and very remote chapel for Sunday service. No-one else is there, aside from the clergyman.

“I’m not sure it’s worth proceeding with the service – might we do better to go back to our warm homes and a hot drink?..” asks the clergyman, inviting a mutually helpful reaction from his audience of one.

“Well, I’m just a simple farmer,” says the old crofter, “But when I go to feed my herd, and if only one beast turns up, I sure don’t leave it hungry.“

So the clergyman, feeling somewhat ashamed, delivers his service – all the bells and whistles, hymns and readings, lasting a good couple of hours – finishing proudly with the fresh observation that no matter how small the need, our duty remains. And he thanks the old farmer for the lesson he has learned.

“Was that okay?” asks the clergyman, as the two set off home.

“Well I’m just a simple farmer,” says the old crofter, “But when I go to feed my herd, and if only one beast turns up, I sure don’t force it to eat what I brought for the whole herd…“

From which we see the extra lesson, that while our duty remains regardless of the level of need, we have the additional responsibility to ensure that we adapt our delivery (of whatever is our stock in trade) according to the requirements of our audience.

For those of us that ever doubted the return on investment on training or had a difficult time convincing others about it….here’s a great story that underlines the importance of training, coaching and mentoring our teams

A new hotel employee was asked to clean the elevators and report back to the supervisor when the task was completed.

When the employee failed to appear at the end of the day the supervisor assumed that like many others he had simply not liked the job and left.

However, after four days the supervisor bumped into the new employee. He was cleaning in one of the elevators.”You surely haven’t been cleaning these elevators for four days, have you?” asked the supervisor, accusingly.”Yes sir,” said the employee, “This is a big job and I’ve not finished yet – do you realise there are over forty of them, two on each floor, and sometimes they are not even there..”

Investments yield dividends. This holds true for every aspect of our lives. Our theme for the next month is “Invest”. Especially in those aspects of your life that will yield valuable dividends. The 1st aspect that we cover is “Investing in positive thinking”. Here is a real life person that invested and benefited….

A landscape gardener ran a business that had been in the family for two or three generations. The staff was happy, and customers loved to visit the store, or to have the staff work on their gardens or make deliveries – anything from bedding plants to ride-on mowers.

For as long as anyone could remember, the current owner and previous generations of owners were extremely positive happy people. Most folk assumed it was because they ran a successful business. In fact it was the other way around…

A tradition in the business was that the owner always wore a big lapel badge, saying ‘Business Is Great!’

The business was indeed generally great, although it went through tough times like any other. What never changed however was the owner’s attitude, and the badge saying ’Business Is Great!’

Everyone who saw the badge for the first time invariably asked, “What’s so great about business?” Sometimes people would also comment that their own business was miserable, or even that they personally were miserable or stressed.

Anyhow, the ‘Business Is Great!’ badge always tended to start a conversation, which typically involved the owner talking about lots of positive aspects of business and work, for example:

the pleasure of meeting and talking with different people every day

the reward that comes from helping staff take on new challenges and experiences

the fun and laughter in a relaxed and healthy work environment

the fascination in the work itself, and in the other people’s work and businesses

the great feeling when you finish a job and do it to the best of your capabilities

the new things you learn every day – even without looking to do so

and the thought that everyone in business is blessed – because there are many millions of people who would swap their own situation to have the same opportunities of doing a productive meaningful job, in a civilized well-fed country, where we have no real worries.

And so the list went on. And no matter how miserable a person was, they’d usually end up feeling a lot happier after just a couple of minutes listening to all this infectious enthusiasm and positivity.

It is impossible to quantify or measure attitude like this, but to one extent or another it’s probably a self-fulfilling prophecy, on which point, if asked about the badge in a quiet moment, the business owner would confide:

“The badge came first. The great business followed.”

Ask yourself…”Am I offering a solution or am I a part of the problem?” Here is the story of a man that worked with a solutions mindset, against all odds and found a solution.

It was the year 1960. Landless laborers, the Musahars, lived amid rocky terrain in the remote Atri block of Gaya, Bihar, in northern India. A 300-foot tall mountain loomed between them and all the basic facilities that they had always longed for.

Like all the Musahar men, Dashrath Manjhi worked on the other side of the mountain. At noon, his wife Phaguni would bring his lunch. One day, she came to him empty handed, injured. As the harsh sun beat down, Phaguni tripped on loose rock, and was badly injured. She slid down several feet, injuring her leg. Hours past noon, she limped to her husband. He was angry at her for being late. But on seeing her tears, he made a decision. Years later, he would recount, “That mountain had shattered so many pots and claimed so many lives. I could not bear that it had hurt my wife. If it took all my life now, I would carve us a road through the mountain.”

Dashrath bought a hammer, chisel, and crowbar. He had to sell his goats, which meant a lower income for his family. He climbed to the top, and started chipping away at the mountain. He would start early in the morning, chip the mountain for a few hours, then work on the fields, and come back to work on the mountain again. He would hardly sleep.

It was not an easy task. He would often get hurt by the rocks falling from the unyielding mountain. He would rest and then start again. At times, he helped people carry their things over the mountain for a small fee, money to feed his children. After 10 years, as Manjhi chipped away, people saw a cleft in the mountain and some came to help.

Manjhi broke through that last thin wall of rock, and walked into the other side of the mountain. After 22 years, Dashrath Das Manjhi, the common man, the landless laborer, had broken the mountain: he had carved out a road 360 feet long, 30 feet wide. Wazirganj, with its doctors, jobs, and school, was now only 5 kilometers away. People from 60 villages in Atri could use his road. Children had to walk only 3 kilometers to reach school. Grateful, they began to call him ‘Baba’, the revered man.

Source: www.thebetterindia.com

Most of us think about helping others once we settle down and become “old enough” to make a difference. But Sylvester Peter has been changing lives of slum children since he was 13. Even if circumstances don’t permit us to make a lifestyle change, the question to ask is “What can I do to make a difference?”

As early as 3:30 am in the morning, when most of the country is asleep, Sylvester’s angels wake up, finish their daily chores and head out for their football practice, yoga sessions and daily lessons.

The kids talk fluently in English, perform great in football and have immense compassion in their heart. Sandeep has been with Sylvester for over 18 years now. When he first joined, he was a rag picker, was addicted to drugs and had a very negative attitude towards life. But today, he is a successful banker who is living a respectable life.

Sylvester, through football and various other sessions, gives theoretical, moral and practical lessons to slum children. He single-handedly runs the academy and imparts lessons on personal hygiene, environmental protection, sex education, gender equality, education, life skills, dancing, painting, etc.

“I am making leaders, not followers so that even if I pass away, the tradition continues,” Sylvester says. For around 30 years of his work, Sylvester has been spending his own personal income to support his academy and kids.

The students who belong to abusive families with various troubles, are now positive personalities with lots of love in their hearts. From drug addicts, rag pickers, thieves, filthy, frightened and negatively influenced children, these kids have transformed into lovely human beings who have aspirations just like regular mainstream kids. They are disciplined and have high hopes for their future.

The ‘angels’ have also had many successes on the football field. Two students have been selected to fly to France for training at FC Metz club through “My Chance” tournament. They are the ‘West Zone Delhi football champion’ and won the ‘Manchester United Sponsored Young Star challenge tournament’. Three of his diligent, highly skilled players have been selected for the prestigious Barcelona football camp.

Today Sylvester has a lovely bunch of slum kids who worship him and a beautiful wife who supports him in his amazing work.

Source: www.thebetterindia.com

In the current environment of “Cleaning up India”, a lot of people ask “what can I do alone that will make a difference”? This story details what can be done at the physical level. Moving beyond physical “cleaning” , we can look at “cleaning up” the environment around us: at office, at home, socially etc. And “ONE” can make all the difference.

There’s a stretch between two Chicago avenues that’s always surprisingly clean. That’s because of an ageing man called Don.

His neighbours know almost nothing about him, other than that he’s polite, sturdily built and very quiet. And they know that virtually every day of the week he brings out brooms, shovels and a barrel on wheels. Then he starts sweeping the streets, shoveling the litter into his barrel.

He’s been at it for several years, from early in the morning until his barrel is full. The weather means nothing to him. Just about all the merchants in the area know him. Some have offered him money or a cool drink on a hot day. But he won’t accept gifts, and he doesn’t like to talk much.

“I managed to speak to him once,” recalls a local car salesman. “He says he’s lived here all his life, and he’s proud of Chicago and thinks everyone should join in keeping the place nice.”

Another businessman said, “He doesn’t want any recognition at all. He says other people volunteer to work at hospitals, and this is what he does.”

In this tell-all age, it’s nice to find someone who likes things neat and makes streets clean. Simple enough. But it’s more than most people do for their town.

By Mike Royko in Chicago Tribune

To achieve “success” beyond the conventional definitions, there has to be a deep inner calling to make a difference. The rest falls into place because you attract like minded people who will join you & help you achieve “success”. It’s just a matter of wanting to make a difference. This is the story of a dentist who wanted to achieve “success” beyond what is conventionally defined as success.

On sizzling-hot summer days in Hong Kong, most people seek air conditioned shelters. But Matthew Yung, 50, squats beside the road and chats to a pavement-dweller, undaunted by the scorching sun or the curious glances of passers-by.

Yung, a dentist, has helped many unfortunate people over the years. During his employment at a government clinic from 1969 to 1971, he spent his leisure time providing dental care for lepers. By mid-1971 he’d saved enough to set up his own clinic in Yau Ma Tei, an impoverished part of Hong Kong. Yung also started providing free care for those in desperate need.

On the way to his clinic every day, Yung saw many people sleeping on pavements or under high-way flyovers. “Hong Kong’s Pavement dwellers are the poorest of the poor,” he says. Determined to help, Yung would ask the Social Welfare Department to take care of those he had met on the streets.

But the more he got to know those people and understand their problems, the more he realized he wanted to help them himself. So in June 1987 Yung joined an action committee to aid pavement dwellers. Since then he has taken an active role in several charitable projects. While helping to distribute food and some daily necessities to the poor around Yau Ma Tei, he noted that many suffered from untreated illness. So, in July 1987, with the help of five other doctors, he inaugurated a free medical programme for residents of charity hostels. Later that year he held free one-day health check-ups for the homeless. Yung is now planning to carry out a program in the hostels to help alcoholic pavement dwellers kick their habit.

What drives Dr Yung to devote his time to helping the poor instead of pursuing a lucrative dental practice? “I believe everyone has a mission,” he says. “I don’t know what will happen to me tomorrow or the day after, so I must grasp every day to serve Hong Kong, the place where I live.”

By Serena Chan, Reader’s Digest 1998

All of aspire to reach the pinnacle of success but are we willing to pay the price to reach such heights. Most success stories have tremendous struggle and often heart break behind them. Often it feels like we may not even get the success we have worked so hard for. However at the end of the day, we should be able to look into the mirror and say “ I did the very best I could”…the will is the most important element of success

Hunting was a way of life in the verdant forests and foothills of the Western Ghats in Karnataka’s Coorg area. It was an integral part of tradition, folklore, manhood, sport, food and commerce. From poor, forest-dwelling tribesmen to the flamboyant royalty and courtiers in bustling Mysore, everyone loved hunting. But one man stood tall to end this way of life. His name is K.M.Chinnappa.

In 1967, he joined the Nagarhole National Park as a forester. The park was in ruins. Hunting had taken its toll. Poachers hunted tigers for their skin; elephants for their tusks. Timber logging was a thriving mafia business. Sandalwood smugglers roamed with abandon. Wild life protection laws were weak and the Forest Department concentrated on logging, misguidedly uprooting the diversity of natural vegetation to replace them with the monocultures of teak. Rued Chinnappa: “If this devastation continued, I was dead certain that there would be no wildlife left in Nagarhole in 30 years.”

He became a one-man army to reverse this process. And he succeeded. In less than a quarter of a century, Nagarhole revived, expanding from a 250 sq km part to 640 sq kms. The poachers have retreated, the encroachers have gone and the hunters are virtually extinct, restoring Nagarhole to its rightful inhabitants – tigers, panthers, leopards, sloth bears, jackals, wild boars, porcupines, hares, langur and varieties of deer. In the bad old days, tigers had to roam 200 sq kms before they could find prey. Now they can find it within 12 sq kms.

Chinnappa used his immense knowledge of forest trails, tracking spoor, jungle craft, fabled night vision and stealth maneuvers to ambush the poachers and hunters. Chinnappa paid a high personal price to fulfil his mission to safeguard Nagarhole. He was arrested, jailed, transferred. His home was burned down. But he has no regrets.

In 1993 he retired prematurely from the Forest Department and started his NGO, the Nagarhole Wildlife Conservation Education Project to educate the local people and especially the children on the need to protect the environment. Chinnappa’s accomplishments are all the more laudable because they were won against the stiffest odds. He endured setbacks, difficulties, threats, attacks, vilification, arrests and court cases. But, remarkably, he has emerged unscathed, his innocence, courage, dedication, honour and optimism intact. Through all his trials and tribulations, one thing remained undiminished: his sheer will to save the forests. With deep conviction he says: “If you have the will, you can do wonders.”

Today, Chinnappa derives enormous satisfaction from the guns – the yesteryear symbol of manhood – that lie rusting in many a Coorgi home. Cheering the end of that bygone era are the sights and sounds of a promising new life, symbolized by the swaying foliage and barking deer.

Source: www.thealternative.in,  Jan 28, 2013

Continuing with our theme for the year – Candescence, our message for this month is ‘Egoless ness is Candescence’.

Hello everyone! It’s easy to look at the problem, but how many of us are determined to find the solution, despite all odds. Ideas that make an impact are often implemented in the face of tremendous odds by people who refuse to give up. This story talks about one such person and his story.

Chewang Norphel hails from Skarra village, 2.5 kms away from Leh in Ladakh. All 100 families of his village have traditionally been subsistence farmers, cultivating wheat, barley, mustard and peas. Ladakh’s melting snows generate millions of gallons of water. But as it flows into the mountain streams too late in the year, most of the water goes waste. Cultivation is limited to the extremely short season of spring and summer warmth. Spring arrives in April but by the time the great Himalayan glaciers melt to fill the mountain streams, it is June.

Ladakhi farmers need water in April to first moisten the dry, winter chapped fields. Then they can plough and plant the seeds. And then in June, the fields can be watered by the gurgling mountain streams. Except there is no water in April because the glaciers are still frozen. This predicament trapped the villagers in a perennial cycle of poverty.

One time in 1987, Norphel was watching the water drip to the ground from the lone village tap. The tap had to be kept open in winter to let the water flow through so that it did not freeze and burst the pipe. So the water dripped away, wasting into the earth, forming a large pool that became a sheet of ice in winter. That’s how Norphel hit upon his simple but brilliant idea of a man-made glacier to store the plentiful water from the melted snow someplace close to the village all through summer and autumn so that it could form a glacier in winter. That would then melt in spring to provide the much needed water for the villagers at the right time.

Norphel put all the knowledge gained from his Civil engineering diploma course, local work experience and meager resources to translate his idea into action on a trial basis in water-starved Phutse village, 80 kms from Skarra. He designed the reservoirs in a series of steppe formations, locating them in mountain shade so that the water would remain frozen in winter to form large glaciers. From the glacier, feeder canals took the water back to the natural mountain streams that irrigated the villages.

Norphel’s low cost glaciers turned out to be an ingenious way of solving a perennial problem. The Phutse glacier cost a meager Rs.90,000.

As a government servant, Norphel could not change the world or even his state. But he changed his local environment, using whatever little expertise and resources he had. He wanted to use his position, education, skills and experience to improve the lives of the people around him. As a civil engineer, he built tanks, bridges, irrigation canals and other public works that have made life easier for the local inhabitants. During his career, he built over 300 canals, some of them in tough, stony terrain comprising of vertical rocks, to irrigate 20,000 acres and benefiting 75% of Leh’s 117,000 inhabitants.

Source: www.thealternative.in,  Jan 2, 2013

This story is apt for a country like ours. If we want to make a difference, all it takes is one person to start making the difference. The effect is contagious and it spreads like wild fire…the enthusiasm grabs everyone around.

Narayanan Krishnan was a bright, young, award-winning chef with a five-star hotel group, short-listed for an elite job in Switzerland. But a quick family visit home before heading to Europe changed everything.

 “I saw a very old man eating his own human waste for food,” Krishnan said. “It really hurt me so much. I was literally shocked for a second. After that, I started feeding that man and decided this is what I should do the rest of my lifetime.”

Krishnan was visiting a temple in the south Indian city of Madurai in 2002 when he saw the man under a bridge. Haunted by the image, Krishnan quit his job within the week and returned home for good, convinced of his new destiny. “That spark and that inspiration is a driving force still inside me as a flame — to serve all the mentally ill destitutes and people who cannot take care of themselves,” Krishnan said.

Krishnan founded his nonprofit Akshaya Trust in 2003. Now 29, he has served more than 1.2 million meals — breakfast, lunch and dinner — to India’s homeless and destitute, mostly elderly people abandoned by their families and often abused. “Because of the poverty India faces, so many mentally ill people have been … left uncared for on the roadside of the city,” he said.Video: Akshaya Home

Krishnan’s day begins at 4 a.m. He and his team cover nearly 125 miles in a donated van, routinely working in temperatures topping 100 degrees Fahrenheit. He seeks out the homeless under bridges and in the nooks and crannies between the city’s temples. The hot meals he delivers are simple, tasty vegetarian fare he personally prepares, packs and often hand-feeds to nearly 400 clients each day. He says many of the homeless seldom know their names or origins, and none has the capacity to beg, ask for help or offer thanks. They may be paranoid and hostile because of their conditions, but Krishnan says this only steadies his resolve to offer help.

“The panic, suffering of the human hunger is the driving force of me and my team members of Akshaya,” he said. “I get this energy from the people. The food which I cook … the enjoyment which they get is the energy. I see the soul. I want to save my people.”

By Danielle Berger, CNN April 2, 2010

It’s very easy to sit back and complain about how we were negatively impacted by the actions of those around us. This is a story about a regular business person who actually stood up and did something. This positively impacted thousands of commuters on a daily basis…the initiative of “ONE”.

Thai Businessman Chetsada Wiangket doesn’t sit in Bangkok’s notorious traffic snarls wishing for a subway of skytrain to be built. He’s too busy thinking up ways he can help ease the problems of driving in the city. Since February 1994, for example, Chetsada has installed nearly 100 emergency two-line stations beside busy highways and at traffic-police kiosks.

He thought of the tow line when his old car overheated, blocking an entire lane until a tow truck could get there. “A broken-down car can worsen traffic considerably, “says the 38-year-old ice-cream distributor and manager of his family’s medicine company. His idea was that, if a driver had a tow line, he could ask a passing taxi to pull his car to a petrol pump.

Chetsada started placing small signs announcing the emergency service near busy highways. A tow line was attached to the sign by a hook. Drivers used the lines, but failed to return them. Delighted nonetheless, and encouraged by traffic police, Chetsada embarked on his campaign in earnest.

He built larger steel signs, on each of which he included a diagram illustrating how to use the lines and a request to return them. The line is chained to the stand, and users must ask traffic police in the area for the key.

Then, fearing that his service might put an extra burden on the police officers, Chetsada decided to cool them off, literally, with ice-cold towelettes in their tricycles’ refrigerator compartments and give one to any policeman they see. “Sometimes officers put them under their caps to make the heat more bearable,” says Chetsada.

The father of three says his wife, Nithiorn, is a motivating force behind his Samaritan projects. “At first she called me crazy. But I’m the type who is fuelled by insults,” he adds.

While receiving no monetary rewards, Chetsada said the compliments he receives from all sides are reward enough. “These days everyone is out for himself. But if we all do nothing – just wait for that skytrain or subway to materialize – we could be waiting forever.”

Source: Reader’s digest, 1997

In a lot of Development indices, “development” is often measured in terms of how much a nation can consume. If we all look at ways to save & re-distribute, the world will be a happier place for all. This lesson applies to all of us that work in the corporate space as well.

Each year Tokyo’s 23 municipalities collect 235,000 abandoned or illegally parked bicycles from the street. Many are reclaimed by the owners, but until 1987 the rest, even those in good repair, were routinely destroyed. That’s when Masahiko Mizushima, then 47, was appointed manager of the bicycle-affairs division of a municipality in northeast Tokyo. Mizushima, disturbed by this waste, wondered, “Isn’t there a use for these bikes somewhere? Maybe they could be donated to developing countries.”

But how could a local official setup an international aid programme?

Mizushima met a Malaysian diplomat who was enthusiastic about his idea. An orphanage was selected as a worthy destination for the bikes. Mizushima chose the best bikes, arranged for retired mechanics to recondition them, and soon 75 were on their way to the orphanage.

Mizushima visited the orphanage a few months later, and was pleased to see children using the bikes to get to school. “The children were very happy, and so was I.”

Encouraged by the success of his initial effort, Mizushima teamed up with the Japanese Organisation for International Cooperation in Family Planning, which had experience aiding developing countries, and in 1988 sent 375 reconditioned bicycles to Malaysia, the Philippines and Zambia. By then his efforts were being noticed by government officials. He recognized a committee of 14 local government bodies and the family-planning organization, which, supplemented by other donations, funded the project. Mizushima was named executive director.

It was hard work. A bicycle shipment could take months to arrange, keeping Mizushima at his desk many nights, away from his wife and children. But he had turned his idea into reality.

Every year the number of bikes sent overseas increases. Since the programme began, more than 10,000 bikes have gone to 24 countries in Asia, Latin America and Africa. Mizushima is happy with the results of his gesture of good will, he says, adding that like everything else in life, it just took determination. “If you really want to get something done, you can somehow, some way.”

To us this is a story that proves how much can be achieved, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable difficulties, if one has the vision and the will do it.

As he hears the squeals of laughter from a nearby classroom, even a heavy beard cannot camouflage the hint of smile on Deodhari Karmali’s visage. It is not without reason. His school – Viklang Vidyalaya – that he started in 1987 has 112 students, including 22 girls, today. All the school’s students and six teachers are physically handicapped, including Karmali himself.

For Karmali, the youngest of nine children, setting up a school was the last thing on his mind. The son of a casual labourer from Murubanda village in Bihar’s Hazaribagh district, he wanted to join the army. However, his life took a different turn at 15 when he lost his right hand in an accident. The disability was only physical as it did not impair Karmali’s mental courage. Two years later, he founded a school for physically handicapped children at Sukari-garhalari village.

Running the school has been no mean task for Karmali. Earlier, parents were reluctant to send their handicapped children to the school. This despite the fact that he charged no fees, distributed free books and even provided meals. But his labour and commitment – he would raise money by growing vegetables – saw Karmali’s dream take shape.

The school’s first batch had 12 students. Money is a constant source of worry as the school requires at least Rs 60,000 a month to sustain itself. But Karmali is undeterred: “If God has deprived me of one hand at least he has given me a mind which always thinks about the betterment of others.”

For Karmali’s wards, their master’s life is inspiring enough. All of them want to follow his footsteps. Mukesh Kumar, 10, wants to help Karmali once he is able to stand on his own feet. “But for Guruji, we would have been begging for alms,” says 12-year-old Sudhir who has lost both his legs.

As for Guruji, he is happy that his school is well into its eleventh year. “Hard work and determination have brought us here,” says Karmali. “I often forget that I have a handicap. Now it makes no difference to me.”

But a difference it has certainly made to 112 handicapped children. With Viklang Vidyalaya, Karmali has shown to the cynical villagers that mental strength can transcend physical barriers.

Source: India Today, 19 October, 1999

Our theme for the next 2 weeks is the ‘Power of One’. We have been inspired to do this section by the number of voices we hear in the training room and outside about not being able to make a positive contribution because of the negative lag of team members, the boss, the environment etc….These real life instances show us quite the opposite…Here’s to the ‘Power of ONE’

In April 1995, Craig Keilburger of Toronto, Canada, then 12, read about the death of Iqbal Masih, a boy his age in Pakistan who had spent six years chained to a rug loom working in conditions approaching slavery. Iqbal had escaped and joined a crusade against child labour. He had been shot dead in the street.

Craig vowed to keep Iqbal’s cause alive. He started Free the Children, a human-rights group run by kids. Soon Craig felt he had to meet the children he was trying to help. He took a seven-week trip to Bangladesh, Thailand, India, Nepal and Pakistan.

He discovered child labour everywhere – a girl bagging sweets 11 hours a day, a boy stitching footballs. “I met one eight-year-old girl pulling apart used syringes and needles for their plastic,” Craig remembers. “She wore no gloves.”

The Canadian Prime Minister was in Asia at the same time, discussing export-import deals. Craig met him to talk about the children who made some of those exports. Since then the government in Canada has moved to get tough on its trading partners.

Craig has singlehandedly awakened many to the suffering of an estimated 200 million children. “Why you?” he was asked.

“If everyone said ‘Why me?’ nothing ever would be accomplished,” Craig explains. I’ve met those children. I’ve read the story of Iqbal Masih. Why not me?”

Source: Ed Bradley, “60 minutes” (CBS)

Often in our training sessions we are asked, “How can I as an individual make any difference to the way things are done if people around me don’t support me?” Since we feel very strongly about transformation one committed individual can bring about, we present to you our topic for this fortnight.

Vishweshwar Dutt Saklani, also known as ‘Vriksha Manav*’ turned 91 today but his spirit to conserve environment by planting saplings is as young as a teenager. Born on June 2, 1922, Saklani had been a freedom fighter before he took up the cause of the environment in the post-independent India. It was his unwavering commitment to save the environment that made him plant and nurture number of trees in his native Pujargoan in Saklana Patti of Tehri district.

Saklani got the idea off tree-planting in 1948 after he lost his brother, who had begun planting trees just before he passed away. Grief-stricken, Saklani used to roam the hills to seek solace. It was during this dark period that he decided to create a fitting memorial to his dear departed.

Beginning by planting acorns on a barren patch near his house, Saklani gradually moved further afield. As a part of his commitment to the environment and in memory of his brother, Saklani raised 70 nurseries and planted more than 50 lakh saplings of trees like oak, rhododendron, cedar and walnut, turning an area of 120 hectares in Pujargoan into a lush green forest. He, thus, named this forest ‘Nagendra Dutt Saklani Van*’.

Saklani’s labour of love has not only made him a more serene man, he’s brought life back in its myriad form to his area. Hillsides, once denuded by indiscriminate timber- feeling and quarrying have become green. Thanks to the trees having taken firm root, the soils of terraced fields have stabilized and once-dry streams are flowing again. The villagers’ traditional sources of fodder and fuel have been restored, and even birds have returned to the area. In recognition of his amazing achievements, the government gave Saklani the prestigious Indira Priyadarshini Vrikshamitra award in 1986.

Saklani’s zeal of plant trees on every barren patch of land earlier brought him in conflict with uncomprehending villagers and officious bureaucrats. But his transparent sincerity and the benefits of his work gradually won people over, inspiring other individuals and organizations in the region to take up their own tree- planting programmes.

For Saklani, a lot remains to be done. “If you don’t cover the land with trees,” he warns, “the soil will get washed away and then there will be no more land left- for you, me, or anyone.” He firmly believes that every Indian must at least plant one sapling on the occasion of birth, wedding or even a death in his family. He said it was important to save the environment.

Source: The Tribune, Chandigarh June 2012

*Van (Hindi) means a forest

*Vriksha Manav (Hindi) means The Tree Man

When we think of the word “stretch”, for most of us it conjures up an image of working harder. However, stretch is very often about “Stretching” & challenging our mind to look beyond conventional wisdom and come up with a unique solution. This can happen at every level. Here’s a story on this theme.

Having fled Seoul during the Korean War, we lived as refugees in Taegu. My father had been kidnapped and taken north, and my older brothers were serving in the army. It was up to me, at the age of fourteen, to earn a livelihood for the rest of the family. There was not much that a fourteen-year old could do in the chaos of the war, but fortunately one of my father’s former students, who worked at a newspaper, arranged for me to sell newspapers.

I usually sold the papers to the shops in the crowded Pangchon market in Taegu. As soon as I got the papers I ran to the market. If I lost time selling a couple of papers on the way, I could lose the market to other paperboys. So I was always the first one at the market, but I still could not capture the whole market, because I lost valuable time giving change as I sold to people in the first third of the market. During those precious moments, the other newsboys would catch up and pass me, securing the rest of the market for themselves.

In order to feed my family, I had to sell a minimum of the hundred papers a day; my mother and two younger brothers were always anxiously waiting for me at home. I had to come up with a new method to sell more papers, so everyday before I started I would make sure I had plenty of change ready. I was able to save important time by tossing the folded bills of change with the paper, grabbing the money, and running to the next shop. In that way, I eventually was able to capture about two-thirds of the market. But the other kids were still catching up with me.

I had to improve my tactics, and I did. I just ran through the market tossing the papers to the shops- nobody could catch up with me. Then I could take my time making my way back through the market to collect the money. Not everybody paid each day, but I was able to sell all my papers and usually was able to collect what was owed to me within a couple of days. After about two months, the other paperboys had given up completely, and I had the market all to myself.

Source: Every street is paved with gold by Kim-Woo-Jung, founder and chairman, Daewoo.

Most of us want to achieve spectacular success in life. A bird’s eye view of most people that fall under this category tells us they have “stretched” normal limits tremendously. Here is a story of “Tiger” Pataudi to illustrate this point.

[Tiger Pataudi lost sight in one eye as a result of a car mishap when in his early 20s. He describes adjusting to life in the first few weeks after the accident.]

… three or four weeks after my operation, I was back in the nets, trying to find out what difference the accident had made to my batting. As any boxer who has had one eye closed by the blows of an opponent will tell you, it causes loss of perspective of judgement and distance. For example, when trying to light a cigarette I found I was missing the end of it by a quarter of an inch. I was also liable to pour water from a jug straight on to the table, instead of into a tumbler as I intended. But gradually I got the trick of performing such actions, finding it quite possible to adjust.

But my batting needed sorting out…on the whole I found out I favoured the quicker stuff. Slow spin was so difficult to follow in flight, but gradually I learnt to judge pace by the amount of flight and the effort that the bowler was putting into it.

I aimed to get bat and pad right behind the line of anything straight and play the ball with studied care, but if the ball was off the wicket I took the opportunity to play a full-blooded aggressive shot. It was a question of finding out my limitations and then playing strictly within them.

As far as everyday life was concerned it did not take me long to get adjusted. Mind you, I still find it difficult to drive at night because the headlight bothers me. For this reason I have stopped driving altogether in England. In India, the worst thing is overtaking when another car is approaching on the other side of the road – I find it difficult to judge precisely how far away the other car is. Mostly I don’t bother to try to distinguish colours with my injured eye, but if I close the good one, colours seen from a distance of a few inches are fine.

Having been granted leave of absence from Oxford University for one year, largely because I was told I wouldn’t be able to read for some time, I returned with my mother and sister to India in order to recuperate. Back home people didn’t realise to what extent my eye had been injured and I, determined to play as much cricket as possible, did not of course encourage their curiosity. When asked by the captain of the President’s team against the visiting MCC team under Ted Dexter, at Hyderabad, I jumped at the chance.

… we batted, and for my own moment of trial I decided to try to wear a contact lens in my right eye. To my discomfort I found I was seeing two balls, six to seven inches apart. By picking the inner one I managed to score 35 runs before tea. Then I removed the contact lens and, keeping the bad eye closed, completed a top score of 70 before being caught by Ken Barrington off the bowling of Tony Brown.

Source: Tiger’s tale by Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi

Being strong is about preparing ourselves – both physically and mentally – for the tests that life puts us through. Here’s a story by Stephen Covey about how the concept of S-t-r-e-t-c-h helps us develop emotional and mental toughness.

I was in a gym one time with a friend of mine who has a Ph.D. in exercise physiology. He was focusing on building strength. He asked me to ‘spot’ him while he did some bench presses and told me at a certain point he’d ask me to take the weight. “But don’t take it until I tell you,” he said firmly.

So I watched and waited and prepared to take the weight. The weight went up and down. And I could see it begin to get harder. But he kept going. He would start to push it up and I’d think, ‘There’s no way he’s going to make it.’ But he’d make it. Then he’d slowly bring it back down and start back up again. Up and down, up and down.

Finally, as I looked at his face, straining with the effort, his blood vessels practically jumping out of his skin, I thought, ‘This is going to fall and collapse his chest. Maybe I should take the weight. Maybe he’s lost control and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.’ But he’d get it safely down. Then he’d start back up again. I couldn’t believe it.

When he finally told me to take the weight, I said, “Why did you wait so long?”

“Almost all the benefit of the exercise comes at the very end, Stephen”’ he replied. “I’m trying to build strength. And that doesn’t happen until the muscle fiber ruptures and the nerve fiber registers the pain. Then nature overcompensates and within 48 hours, the fiber is made stronger.”

I could see his point. It’s the same principle that works with emotional muscles as well, such as patience. When you exercise your patience beyond your past limits, the emotional fiber is broken, nature overcompensates, and next time the fiber is stronger.

Source: The 7 habits of highly effective people by Stephen Covey.