What is India’s most ‘effective and efficient’ leadership style?
Democratic? Laissez-faire? Autocratic? Bureaucratic?
Of course. Not! If you guessed one of these, I’m sorry to say that you were wrong. India has invented its own way of saying: “I am the BOSS here, OK?!”
Ladies and gentleman, I introduce to you the ‘latest innovation’ on leadership styles: The “Lethal Leadership Style”.
It just consists of, you as the boss, having a ‘little gift’ on top of your desk. This ‘little gift’, basically means having one of the world’s most venomous snakes (alive) inside a container right next to you. In this case, it was the Forestry Department Officer with a Russell Viper (alive) inside a container right next to him. A bite of one of these ‘non-legged-friends’ and you get 30 minutes to pass from a state of being alive to a state of being.. ‘KAPUT’!
It is a pretty simple leadership style actually, you just say: “Do what I ask you to do! Other else I unleash my lethal friend!” (if this ends up being the case: 30 minutes later, employee =(equals) KAPUT!).
I am just kidding of course, do not take it seriously please. This specially goes to all the general management teams from Fontys’ Mini Companies! We do not want the university filled with deadly snakes, right!?
This man had the snake in the office just to release it to the forest again; because it had managed to enter ‘human territory’ with no permission!
Yes. That week there were more encounters with poisonous creatures, than you really would like to have: Viper, scorpion, the famous dangerous little crate (krait) and even a ray in the shore of the Arabic Sea!
But although poisonous creatures seem to make out a pretty interesting topic, today's post will touch on another subject.
It has already been a month plus some more days since Follow mE first set foot in India; time has somehow set itself in a high-speed mode, because I certainly haven't felt it! Now, after spending three weeks in the beautiful North Western Ghats, we are back again in Pune.
If you take a glance to previous posts, you may notice that they mention topics ranging from medicinal plants to 'bedded-buses', from goddesses and gods to strange Indian toilets, from tiger territory to spicy food, amongst many more. There is something missing though; a very important subject when it comes to describing a place:
Its people.
And I just figured that there possibly won't be a more ideal timing to write about it, but now.
During the 3 weeks I spent in The North Western Ghats I was a very lucky person, because I had the chance of speaking with community members of various surrounding villages, for the purpose of doing research on a topic. Some of the 'findings' however, were not so directly related to the topic itself; but definitely equally, if not more, important than those which the research was meant to look for.
It is amazing how a beautiful place is perfectly matched with wonderful people. I really mean it.
In a world where you open your eyes to see the words "violence", "murder", "rape", "drugs", “kidnaping” written in headlines of news papers. Where you unclog your ears to hear music playing "sexy b%tch", "f#^k you dirty", "I want that p*%sy". Then, you turn your head around and watch the TV, with the media giving Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt as 'consolation prizes' to the public.
I must sincerely confess I feel such calmness, when I get to say that I am able to use words such as UNITY. TOLERANCE. RESPECT. ACCEPTANCE. COMPASSION. LOVE. PEACE. to describe these people and the experiences I had recently have the opportunity to live.
It has been a gift.
There was a particular family though, with which I ended up getting the closest to.
[I should say that I had put a lot of thought into whether or not I should write about this. Not because I did not want to share it with you, but because I wanted it to 'come out right'. Just, I wanted to write it correctly, as it deserves it to be.]
So-
It was in the village were I was at, Sadavali. There was this house around the corner of the one I was staying at. It was the poorest looking house in the area. It was small, made out of this mud-looking kind of material. It was divided into two parts one of which had a door, a rotting wooden door; the rest of it had none.
I used to pass in front of it every morning and it made me curious, because they were always speaking very loud inside.
One of those days I passed by, and the house's kid, a 15 year old kid who was also walking around there, came towards me and gave me a candy. He said nothing just: "This is for you".
Some few days later I was passing in front of the house again; the kid was walking, struggling holding two big containers of water, so I decided to give him a hand. You know, as a kind of 'payback' for the candy he had given to me. After this I ended up getting invited for dinner by his mother.
So, the next evening I went for dinner..
I arrived and the house had barely one light, outside where they were cooking, so it was kind of dark. The kid's brother was there, he was 25 years old, tall, around 1.85m height; extremely skinny looking. He very politely introduced himself, and told me to take a sit in a bench that was standing in front of me.
I sat down, and right next to me on my left side I saw, I think a scene I will never forget:
There was their grandmother. Old, around her late 80s, skinny, eyes blue pale, half blind; laying down on the floor on top of a pile of dirty clothes, which seemed as if they have been thrown all over the place. She sort of tried to sit to turn around to look where I was at; forcing her sight, trying to see who I was. I guess she was not able to see, because she asked something to the kid and then went back to sleep.
I must confess at that same moment the only thing I wanted to do was to leave. It was too much.
I have never felt an inner feeling, so strongly expressed inside of me in a physical way. Right in the chest; it was like this storm. As if your heart was truly breaking.
Whatever. I though to myself it was very selfish of me to leave. So, I stayed.
The rest of the evening followed up; their story didn't get any better after asking about their father and finding out he had died of malaria years ago. But surprisingly enough, they made me have a very special time. They made me feel as if I was at home.
Their sister that same night arrived with her daughter, a very funny kid! And they all started building this 'throne' for their god "Ganpati" ("Ganesh"); as it was his festival that week. They gave me like this tower of food, and the kid taught me how to properly eat rice by using my hands (the Indian way of eating), because as usual I was making a mess..
They gave me a rose, a bracelet, a key chain.. And multiple invitations to their house later on.
With so little, they had this need of giving. I had never experienced this before.
HUMANITY. The word I missed in the description above – “The quality of being humane; the kind feelings, dispositions, and sympathies of a human; especially, a disposition to relieve persons or animals in distress, and to treat all creatures with kindness and tenderness”.
It is ironic, life. 17 years I lived in a country with 54% of population below poverty line. My country; and yet I have never seen it this close. Not this way. All this time it was right down the corner, and years later I cross half the world to finally see it, in the most vivid of ways.
I noticed also the insensibility with which one can see this on television or the internet. You see pictures and you turn away; you put your hand in front of your eyes and close them.. You can read about it, and be so cold, so indifferent. So numb.
It made me wonder where have I been all this time - It makes you wonder if you’ve had been living in this world at all.
PEACE
Your writer,
Maria
