The importance of being Pranab

- Story Dated: Thursday, April 5, 2012 14:53 hrs IST 

 By Kumar Anshuman

July 21, 1969. It was around 7.30 p.m. in Birbhum, West Bengal. The ears of Kamada Kinkar Mukherjee and Abhijit Mukherjee were glued to the radio. The Bangla news bulletin started and the first headline was American astronaut Neil Armstrong landing on the moon. Then came the news they were waiting for—five persons from Bengal were elected to the Rajya Sabha. Pranab Mukherjee, Kamada’s son and Abhijit’s father, was the second name mentioned.
Mukherjee, now 76 and Union finance minister, has come a long way since then. He has handled all important portfolios except home ministry at least once in his 41 years in Delhi. He became a deputy industry minister in 1973, and since then has been a vital cog in every Congress government. As BJP leader L.K. Advani once pointed out: “Sometimes I think what would have happened to the UPA government had there not been a person called Pranab Mukherjee.”
Mukherjee’s importance in the United Progressive Alliance government is evident from the fact that he heads all but one of nine empowered groups of ministers. Then there are 15 groups of ministers which he leads.
On March 16, he presented his eighth Budget (including one interim Budget)—second only to Morarji Desai, who presented 10 of them. Mukherjee’s first stint in the North Block was in 1982, under Indira Gandhi. When he read a Budget speech which lasted one hour and thirty-five minutes, Indira said: “The shortest finance minister has presented the longest budget.”
In his current tenure, India remained relatively immune to the financial turmoil around the globe owing to his perfect blending of adeptness and caution. “This man is extraordinary,” said K.V. Thomas, minister for food and consumer affairs. “For every issue he has a solution.”
Some call him Mr Fixit, some vintage wine. He makes a statement and an issue gets resolved. “He is the best prime minister we are yet to have,” said Arun Shourie, writer and former Union minister.
His money management skills were evident even in his childhood. A young Mukherjee—or Poltu, as he was called at home—used to go grocery shopping. Though his mother gave him the exact amount required, Poltu could manage something for his pocket money. “Ma has counted out the exact change, but is she going to measure the exact weight of the groceries?” he would tell his elder brother Piyush.
“He is always flexible and I have never seen him being adamant on something,” said Kaushik Basu, chief economic adviser, finance ministry. Mukherjee is not an economist. He taught political science in a government college in Bengal. “He is a statesman who understands what is going to happen in future,” said Abhijit, his son and legislator from Nalhati, West Bengal.
Bureaucrats admire Mukherjee’s abilities to multi-task and give space to everyone. Said Basu: “At one moment he discusses some economic issues with great interest. At the very next he would be talking on a political issue. The switch-over is so smooth and articulate.”
Mukheerjee’s memory and knowledge of different subjects are impeccable. “He is a scholar and you come to know it when you meet him,” said Basu. Whenever an illustrious economist or scholar comes to India, Basu ensures that they meet Mukherjee. “It is something the both sides enjoy,” said Basu. Recently, when Jacques Dreze, economist and father of development economist Jean Dreze, came to India, Basu took him to Mukherjee’s North Block office. Dreze asked something about the history of the building. To Basu’s astonishment, Mukherjee started talking about things like where Lord Mountbatten sat and also where Liaquat Ali Khan sat in the building on the opposite side of the road.
When Basu was editing The New Oxford Companion to Economics in India with Annemie Maertens, there was a chapter on Budget making in India which he wanted Mukherjee to write. Mukherjee agreed but could not find time to write it. Finally, one day Basu went to him with a recorder and asked him to dictate. Mukherjee started right from Budgets in the 1930s. “What was amazing was the dates, the figures on the size of the Budget and other statistics came out fluently without a mistake,” said Basu.
As a political heavyweight Mukherjee’s credentials are acknowledged even by the opposition parties. “He follows certain basic principles and is fully aware of rules and procedures,” said Somnath Chatterjee, former Lok Sabha speaker. When Samajwadi Party’s Akhilesh Yadav became Uttar Pradesh chief minister, he came to Parliament to thank everyone. He greeted everyone with folded hands but touched Mukherjee’s feet. Mukherjee likes the young faces in politics and is fond of the youth brigade of ministers in the Union government. “I am very happy to see young boys like you doing so well,” he told Union Minister Sachin Pilot at the January annual lunch at his house.
Mukherjee’s ability to tackle problems could be attributed to the friendships that he has made in the long political career. In 1967, C.N. Annadurai invited Bengal chief minister Ajoy Mukherjee for a rally in Madras. Ajoy sent a young Pranab as his representative. At Madras airport, it was M. Karunanidhi who received him. The relationship still continues, and whenever the DMK, a UPA member, is unhappy with a decision taken in Delhi, Mukherjee flies to Chennai.
A workaholic, Mukherjee’s day starts at six in the morning. He takes a walk in the lawn for about half an hour and then reads newspapers over several cups of tea. Around 9 a.m. he takes a bath and performs his daily puja. Then he leaves for office, often skipping breakfast. On a normal day at office, he stays till around 10.30 p.m. Then he meets people who come to see him and reaches back home around midnight. “When I want to talk to him, I usually check in between his meetings and work. I wait till he finishes his day,” said Abhijit.
Mukherjee has a sweet tooth. “If he sees rasagula, before my mother or my wife could stop him, he would gulp one or two pieces,” said Abhijit. During the days of Budget preparation, he stays late in the office. And meetings happen over jalebi, balushahi and coffee. “He loves balushahi,” said Basu.
Over the years, Mukherjee has become short-tempered, which is widely accepted because everybody knows he will calm down the very next moment. He knows the world has changed as well. “Today, India has global responsibilities of a kind that it didn’t have earlier. Our presence at the high table of global economic policy makers is a matter of some satisfaction. It, however, places new responsibilities on our shoulders,” he said during the Budget speech.
Mukherjee is deep-rooted in history and politics, which reflects in his decision making. Despite his hectic schedule, he takes care of his constituency, Jangipur. “Every day he would call and take note of the happenings in Jangipur,” said Mohammad Shorabuddin, Congress legislature party chief in Bengal. During Durga Puja, he makes it a point to go to his village in Birbhum and perform puja at his family temple. He is president of the managing committee of the college where he taught more than four decades ago. And he still listens to the call, as he told THE WEEK a few years ago: “My mind says I should say goodbye to politics. But my heart does not allow it.” May his heart prevail.
with Rabi Banerjee 

Lounge break

 

 Lounge break 

By Kumar Anshuman

Story Dated: Monday, September 10, 2012 10:47 hrs IST 

 It's lunchtime at Google's Gurgaon office. A lavish buffet has been arranged in the sprawling cafeteria. On one side is Chinese, on the other Italian. There is an array of other food as well, from Andhra-style mutton to Punjabi rajma. The menu and the food easily match those of any five-star hotel.
Welcome to the new-age ‘canteens'. Gone are the days when an office cafeteria was a place to eat the food you brought from home or the subsidised thali provided by your employer. They now reflect the identity and work culture of an organisation. In fact, the human resources departments of many companies have special strategies for cafeterias.

“The cafeteria at our office was not just thought about as a place where employees could have their meals,” says Manoj Garg, head of HR (consumer business and central functions), Bharti Airtel. “It was planned as a place where employees could bond together in their free time, have informal meetings, brainstorm, or have a chit-chat over coffee.” Airtel took special care in designing the cafeteria while building its office in Gurgaon. Ace architect Hafeez Contractor designed the building as well as the cafeteria. The sprawling space is surrounded by glass facades, letting natural light pour in.
“The cafeteria should be a place where the employees feel detached from their work,” says Sharad Goyal, human resource head of Google India. “If you make the workplace convenient, you can expect the best out of people. Here, cafeteria plays a vital role.” A mix of colours makes the cafeteria in Google's Gurgaon office vibrant. Even the chairs and tables are designed to match the ambience.
British banking giant Standard Chartered's India headquarters in Bandra-Kurla Complex in Mumbai has a 400-seater cafeteria. In compliance with the group's global standards, its capacity is in the ratio of one seat per five employees. The cafeteria design is inspired by the Liverpool Football Club, of which Standard Chartered is a sponsor. “This not only complements our sponsorship of Liverpool Football Club but also resonates with our staff, many of whom are passionate about football,” says a Standard Chartered spokesperson.
mjunction, a joint venture between Steel Authority of India Ltd and Tata Group, has a city theme cafeteria in its Kolkata office. The walls of the café are painted by a graffiti artist from Mumbai. “Being an outsourcing company, we have people working in different shifts. The objective of the cafeteria is to provide them a non-office environment,” says Viresh Oberoi, chief executive officer and managing director of mjunction.
Food gets as much attention as the ambience in these cafes. “At Airtel, we champion diversity by both bringing together and serving people from various geographies,” says Garg. “Our cafeteria culture, too, is reflective of our belief in inclusivity and diversity.” It is visible at the food counters—there's something for everyone, from south Indian to continental. While soups, salads, pickles and desserts are staple, there are dedicated days every week for special street food. Seasonal specials are also included in the menu.
At Google's office in Gurgaon, juices, carbonated drinks and coconut water are available 24x7. For the health conscious, calorie content per 100 gram of the food is mentioned at the counter. mjunction has a food committee which decides the weekly menu and circulates it on the internal network. “A regular audit of the food is done to check the quality and healthiness,” says Oberoi.
Havells India, which makes lights and electrical appliances, does not emphasise much on the ambience but gives great food to its employees. “This is something Havells has always been proud of,” says Rajesh Gupta, group chief financial officer and director of finance. There is only one buffet counter at Havells' Noida office, which serves “homely food”. The employees are discouraged to bring food from home. “If someone has been advised to have something, he is free to do so, but otherwise we all have lunch here,” says Gupta.
The company runs the cafeteria on its own. There is a catering team which takes care of purchase, and quality of every item used is ensured. “We don't outsource anything,” says Gupta. There are three different rates for the employees of different levels. 110 for the lower level, 125 for mid-level executives and 160 for managers. “From security guard to the top management, everybody has lunch in the cafeteria,” says Gupta.
Today's jobs demand extended working hours, and employees often spend more time at workplaces than at homes. “It becomes very important for them to enjoy the work and the workplace,” says Goyal. “Cafeteria helps them in unwinding and having fun in the office.” Moreover, an office cafeteria is a bridge that connects employees with the company's culture.

I clicked this picture while coming back from Amritsar somewhere around Ludhiana. Its a 750 meter long turban and the vehicle has been designed to provide space for it.

Tragedy of errors

- By Kumar Anshuman/Patna

 Tue Dec 11 16:10:07 GMT 2012

With 1,760 beds, the Patna Medical College Hospital (PMCH) is Bihar's biggest hospital. And it arguably produces the best doctors in the state. But when it came to a real crisis test, all claims fell flat.
Disaster management was at its nadir, as at least 16 people—mostly women and children—were killed and more than 100 were injured in a stampede on the first day of the Chhath Puja in Patna on November 19. The PMCH, which is close to the puja venue, Adalatganj Ghat, could not even provide basic treatment to the injured.
Why was the hospital not on alert when thousands of people had gathered on the banks of the Ganga to offer their prayers at sunset? And what was the state administration doing?
Chief Minister Nitish Kumar had returned after his Pakistan visit the day before the puja. On the same day, he personally oversaw the arrangements for the puja. Cruising on a steamer with his cabinet colleagues, he waved to the devotees on the banks, and  apparently quipped to his secretary that his next cabinet meeting could be held at the venue.
Chaos erupted after one of the two temporary bamboo bridges built for the festival collapsed. The police present on the site guided the petrified people to use a nearby pontoon bridge.
The mad rush was triggered when someone shouted that the metal structure was in contact with an electric live wire. Most deaths occurred while people crammed into a narrow lane linking the venue to the main road.
And when people took the injured to PMCH, mayhem welcomed them. Witnesses alleged that the medical staff on duty were throwing victims beside a staircase, declaring them dead. But around eight 'dead bodies' turned out to be alive!
“There was no one to treat my wife,” said Roshan Kumar, who lost his wife and two children. “The doctors ran away seeing the rush.”
Even DGP Abhayanand was reportedly seen scurrying around the hospital corridors, shouting, “Any doctor here?”
Principal Secretary (health) Vyas Ji said the doctors fled “fearing for their well-being”, as people were turning violent. By the time the doctors were persuaded to return, it was too late.
“It was a complete administration failure,” said RJD MP Ram Kripal Yadav. “How could the government believe that the bamboo bridge would take the load of such a huge crowd?”
Politics, obviously, has taken the front seat after the incident. And it has come at a bad time for Nitish, whose popularity has been fluctuating of late. RJD president Lalu Prasad Yadav wasted no time to declare: “This is the beginning of the end for Nitish’s government.”
He sought the chief minister's resignation and slammed him for not visiting the accident site. The government stuck to the routine drill: it announced ∃2 lakh compensation for the 
families of the dead, and ordered a probe by home secretary Amir Subhani. The health department, too, has ordered a probe into 
allegations of “absentee doctors” at PMCH.
Nitish, meanwhile, tried to appear unruffled. He cancelled a feast planned for JD(U) leaders to mark the completion of seven years in power, and assured that strict action would be taken against those responsible for the stampede. He, however, defended the arrangements at the puja venue, citing that the bridge collapse did not lead to the tragedy. “Point of inquiry is what led to the stampede,” he said.
In his trademark style, Nitish trashed the opposition broadsides. “Politics should not be played at the time of a tragedy,” said Nitish. “I don’t take notice of their comments.” But he 
better take notice of the people's anger.