by Menon, Sudha
Despite having studied abroad and having been exposed to the best education models, I am convinced that life has been the biggest teacher for you. You were both born on our farm at a time when your mother and I were extremely young and just learning to handle the responsibility of two girls. You would accompany me on my bullock cart to the farm and into the village, learning to enjoy the greenery and fresh air, prancing around without shoes, and attending the village school. At one point we even lived in a tent, out in the open.Later, when you were both still around 10 years of age, we shifted to Bangalore and you lived the urban experience.
My life itself has been my biggest adventure and you have had a ring-side view of it. After I resigned from the army, unable to cope with the ravages of war and its effect on my mind, I motorcycled through the length and breadth of the country and hitchhiked in the US. At 27, there was a kind of restlessness within me that I was unable to quell. I had led a full life, lived in the Himalayas for two years, experienced a war, and was longing to go back to my village. When I got there, I found the government had built a dam across the river and so my father’s small plot of land had been submerged by the waters. The compensatory land they had given my father was remote, about a hundred kilometres away. It had no water, no power, nor an approach road. But I did not find any of this intimidating. For me it was more romantic than anything else. I wanted to work with my hands on the soil, be alone, take long walks, read, raise cows, and grow crops. I was like a man possessed. Bitten by the farming bug, I went to Bangalore, bought a tent, a Doberman dog, enlisted the support of a village harijan boy to herd cattle, and went to the barren land to pitch my tent on my piece of land in the middle of nowhere. For two years I lived and breathed only that.
That has been the mantra of my life, dreaming and deciding the course that my life would take. That is how I joined the army, and subsequently Air Deccan airlines was born, and that is how I went back to farming. That is also how I founded the air cargo business a few years ago and I am now on course to restart Air Deccan.
Dear daughters, there is no recipe for success in life. Every day I get letters in the mail from people who want to know how I became successful. I just tell them to live their dream, whatever it may be, with passion and hunger. Have an inextinguishable optimism about yourself and things will fall in place. I never believed in failure and so I kept acquiring more businesses without fearing risk. In each of my ventures, that optimism propelled me and when things went wrong, I continued nevertheless, knowing I would survive. Things would ultimately reach back to near-normal. Hope always kept me afloat and alive and I always found a straw that I could grasp to survive.
It is the law of nature that at the height of our success the seed of decline is sown because suddenly you don’t want to take risks and lose what you have painstakingly built up. I believe each of us has to go through the cycle of success and failure.Your will is what will take you through life’s vagaries.
My father never sent me to school in childhood. The first time I went to school was in the fifth standard and I was never the worse for it because he taught me at home. Instead, he would take me to the fields and would show me the harijan way of labour. My father himself was a poor school teacher but he was better off than the harijans. He brought up seven to eight village children in the house who he would feed out of his small salary of Rs 90 per month. He never told me to emulate or aspire to be the village sahukar or the rich baniya, but he would show me the strength of character of the hard working peasant in the farm. He would point to the labour working in the slush in the fields and he would say: ‘They have nature’s bounty, free food, the blessing of being in the midst of nature’. He would read to me about the lives of Tagore and Gandhi, Nehru and Tilak, and he showed me the less fortunate people around me so that I always counted my blessings.He never gave me the opportunity to be envious of those more privileged. It was because of this that when I found myself living hand-to-mouth in a tent, I never felt poor. I had the arrogance of the wealth of nature around me. I never felt poor because I was drunk with the possibilities of my life and never noticed what I did not have.
As you set forth in life, I want to tell you that self-assurance and self-reliance are the most important things, especially for a woman. Believe in yourself and in the ability to stand up for what you feel is right. Don’t be apologetic for standing up for the values you believe in. Don’t follow the herd mentality; instead, visualize clearly what you want and ever so often, the light will shine through to you and make it clear to you what is the right thing you should be doing. Don’t conform to the norm just because everybody is doing or saying the same thing. A firm resolve to follow your heart’s unshakeable belief is an essential tool for a good life. You have only look at Sita, Rani Laxmibai, Chennama, Florence Nightingale—all those who had an overreaching allegiance to their own belief that ultimately led them on their paths.
You should be creative in life. By this I don’t mean you have to go out of your way and do the impossible. Only once in a lifetime can one do some path-breaking things like the creation of the telephone or the light bulb. By creativity, I mean doing things by applying your mind to the way you lead your everyday life. Be passionate about things other than your work. Learn and enjoy music, books, environmental protection, contribute to preserving and enjoying nature.Go on a trek, stand and stare, go river rafting, cultivate things that give you joy in your everyday life.
Be spiritual not in the ritualistic manner but in the way you lead your life—celebrate and have wonderment about the way things have come together on such a grand scale in this world. Reflect every day and discover the meaning of life on your own. That is a journey in itself.
I am often asked if I believe in destiny. I am not sure about destiny and what is ordained for you. Our lives pan out depending on where we are born, how we are raised, and under what circumstances. If I had been born in Pakoccupied Kashmir and raised there, my life would probably be different and so would it be if I was born in a poor family in a backward caste in India. The debate between nature and nurture will continue but what I know is that sometimes the cards that you have dealt with is ordained but how you deal them is in your hands. I agree that destiny has a huge role to play in our lives, but what you make out of your circumstances is a lot in your control.
I was born in a family of less than modest means but have a lot today at my disposal, much more than I or my parents could ever have imagined for me. And while I don’t want to lecture you about anything, don’t be guilty about spending the wealth you have because I believe if everyone was to be simple, there will be no economic activity. Personally, I try to be as simple as possible. Simplicity makes happiness more possible than complexity, I think.
I still farm whenever I get time. At one time I was the largest silkworm producer in the country, grew coconuts and areca nuts. I miss that life and I plan to go back to it in sometime.
In the end, I want to tell you that a successful life is achieved being happy doing whatever you want in a way that enhances the happiness of others and yourself. If all hurdles have to be overcome, we will never get ahead in life. We have to just go ahead, take the plunge, and trust that the future will take care of itself.
Now, go ahead and live your dreams to the fullest.
Yours with love,
Papa
Chanda Kochhar
othing in the initial years of Chanda Kochhar’s life, growing up as one among a college professor’s three children in the desert city of Jaipur, ever suggested she would one day make it to Forbes ‘100 Most Powerful Women in the World’ list four times in a row.
Destiny kicked in when her 51-year-old father passed away unexpectedly, leaving all three children in the sole care of their mother who had, till then, led a sheltered existence. The resilient homemaker called on her inner strength and took a giant leap of faith, moving the family to Mumbai where she picked up a job and put her kids through college.
‘It was a very di
fferent life from the one we lived in Jaipur but she (mother) took up a job designing for a garment company, pulling on her inner strengths and making sure that step-by-step she put all 3 of us through college, got us married and set us up on our way.’
Chanda obtained a Masters’ degree in Management Studies before joining ICICI as a management trainee, steadily working her way up the corporate ladder. At 47, she became its first woman MD and CEO, and its youngest too. Today, she is the captain in charge of $100 billion of the bank’s assets and over 2,700 branches spread across 19 countries.
And yet, Chanda believes that each of us can write our own destiny, largely by following a value system based on the tenets of hard work and commitment. ‘Your destiny is what you make of it’, the slightly-built woman told me at her plush office at ICICI’s corporate headquarters in Mumbai last year.
It is hard to discount what she says because her career graph speaks volumes about the fact that she practices what she preaches. It was relentless hard work, along with the ability to continuously push her own boundaries, which ultimately worked to her advantage, and got her the top job at the bank in a keenly contested race between three highly talented women in the group. Chanda herself attributes her success to the fact that she is able to withstand extreme levels of pressure without caving in or displaying that stress to others.
But her journey to the top was no smooth ride and came with its own set of challenges. When the global financial meltdown led to a Rs1,050-crore decline in the bank’s profit after tax for FY 2008/09, it was Chanda, then Managing Director, who stepped in to take some hard decisions. ‘In times of crisis, the leader should broaden his shoulders and straighten his back so that he can absorb all the strain and leave the team to do their best to resolve the crisis,’ so is her leadership mantra. It worked wonders for the bank and got her the ultimate reward: the privilege of stepping in as CEO and MD.
Chanda’s biggest life lessons were learnt from her parents. Her father refused to bend the rules even for his own son seeking admission into the engineering college of which he was the Principal. And her mother single-handedly charted the course of her family’s life without once letting her children gauge the extent of the pressure she shouldered.
It was from her that she learnt the importance of never letting stress get to you and, in turn, affect those who depend on you for leadership and guidance—whether at home or at work.
Chanda writes a touching letter to her daughter Aarti about the importance of family in our lives and of never letting the daily pressures of life bog us down.
Aarti is an engineering graduate from the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia and is currently employed with Boston Consulting Group (BCG) as an Associate. She plans to do an MBA sometime later this year.
Dear Aarti,
It makes me feel so proud today to see you standing in front of me as a confident young woman right on the threshold of an exciting journey through life. I am looking forward to seeing you grow and flourish in the years ahead.
This moment has also brought back memories of my own journey, and the life lessons I learnt along the way. When I think of those times, I realize that most of these lessons were actually learnt in my childhood, mostly through examples set by my parents. The values that they instilled in my formative years gave me the foundation on which I try to live my life even today.
Our family of five, comprising of my parents and three siblings, lived in Jaipur, Rajasthan. Our parents treated all three of us—two sisters and a brother—equally. When it came to education, or our future plans, there was no discrimination between us based on our gender. Your grandparents always had the same message for the three of us—that it was important to focus on what gave us satisfaction and to work towards it with utmost dedication. That early initiation enabled us to develop into confident individuals capable of taking decisions independently. This also helped me when I started out on my journey of self-discovery.
Every quality that has stood me in good stead in life actually has its roots in my childhood. I remember an incident which as a young girl, had left me thinking of my father as a harsh man. But it was only much later in life that I realized that what I had mistaken for harshness was, in fact, his way of teaching us to lead an honourable life.
My father was the Principal of an engineering college in Jaipur to which my elder brother had applied for an admission. He had also applied to a college in Baroda to be on the safe side, but it was far away for us who had grown up in a protected environment all our lives. When the results were announced, my brother found out to his dismay that he had missed the admission into the Jaipur College by a mere half per cent but had cleared the Baroda entrance test with flying colours. The family was, of course, disappointed. At that time, my father’s colleagues in the college approached him with the suggestion that the college start a system wherein children of the faculty members seeking entry into a given course be given a small privilege in terms of a lower cut-off level as compared to the others. My father flatly refused to implement the suggestion in the year when his son would benefit from the proposed new rule. It was a good suggestion, he felt, ‘but the college could implement it from the next year’. I remember feeling very angry with my father and thinking how unfair it was on his part to deny his son something that was within his reach to give. But now when I look back, I think my stand on values, ethics, and governance today was, in fact, formed from that very incident! We got our initial moorings about fair play and honesty from him and these are the values that I adopted for myself in the long run.
I was only a young girl of 13 when my father passed away from a sudden heart attack, leaving us unprepared to take on life without him. We had been protected from life’s challenges so far. But without warning, all that changed overnight and my mother, who had only been a homemaker till then, faced the responsibility of raising three children all on her own. It was then that we realized how strong she was and how determined to do her duty in the best possible manner. Slowly, she discovered a flair for designing and textiles, found herself a job with a small firm, and quickly made herself indispensable to them. It must have been challenging for her to shoulder the responsibility of bringing up her family single- handed, but she never let us feel like it was a task for her. She worked hard till she saw all of us through college and we became independent. I never knew that my mother had such a wealth of self-assurance and belief within her.
As a parent with a full-time job, one must not let work affect the way you relate to your family. Remember the time that you were studying in the US and the announcement of my becoming MD and CEO of ICICI was splashed across all newspapers? I remember the mail you wrote to me a couple of days later. ‘You never made us realize that you had such a demanding, successful, and stressful career. At home, you were just our mother,’ you wrote in your email. Live your life in the same way, my darling.
I also learnt from my mother that it is very important to have the ability to handle difficult situations and keep moving forward in life, no matter what. Even today I can remember the equanimity and calmness with which she handled the crisis on hand when my father passed away. You have to handle challenges and emerge stronger from them, rather than allow them to bog you down. I remember how, in late 2008, we were faced with a situation where ICICI Bank’s survival was in jeopardy in the face of a global economic meltdown. The situation was being analysed with a hawk’s eye by major media platforms and debated widely in the public space. The problem started at the peak of the financial crisis in the United States and resulted in investors and customers expressing doubts about the bank, given its exposure to global financial institutions. I got down to work, systematically communicating with all stakeholders—from the smallest depositor to the sophisticated investors, and from regulators to the government—that the bank was sound and its exposure to these institutions involved a small portion of its assets. I understood their concern because so many of them feared that their hard earned savings in our ba
nk could be at risk. Simultaneously, I also advised staff across the bank’s various branches to lend a sympathetic ear to those depositors who turned up to withdraw their money, telling them to also offer the depositors a seat and a glass of water while they waited. And though depositors were welcome to withdraw their money if they wanted to, our staff also took care to explain to them that it would not help them to take their money away, because there was no real crisis situation.
It was during this period that I took a couple of hours off one day to attend your brother’s squash tournament. I did not know it then, but my very presence at the tournament went a long way in reinstalling customer confidence in the bank. A few mothers at the tournament came up to me and asked me if I was Chanda Kochhar from ICICI Bank and when I replied in the affirmative, they said that if I could still find time to attend a tournament in the midst of a crisis, it meant that the bank was in safe hands and they need not worry about their money!
It was also from my mother that I learnt the importance of adapting to circumstances and not being afraid of the unknown. In the 25 years that I have spent at the ICICI Group, I have moved across several responsibilities—from setting up new businesses around the globe to heading new functions within the company itself. When I was told to shift from corporate banking to retail operations, I personally felt like I was taking a huge risk because the bank’s corporate business, which I headed till then, accounted for the bulk of the bank’s balance sheet and profits. In comparison, retail was a very small business at that time, but I decided to take on the job and in six years’ time, saw it grow from less than Rs 200 crore in 2000 to Rs 100,000 crore in 2006 in the bank’s balance sheet. I learnt to always keep my mind open to new ideas and looked at each new assignment as an opportunity to learn and prove myself. Adaptability is a great asset to have because life is so unpredictable and things can change overnight for any of us.