Entrepreneurs don't need work life balance. Really????

The article Entrepreneurs don't need work-life balance ( http://bit.ly/Hmg6qE)

 brought to mind three of my very good friends.  Entrepreneurs all, they were focused, worked like possessed men and were all very, very successful.

Andrew.-   In a city, in a  profession, where the only way one could really get ahead was through family and political connections, Andy fought his way to the top with sheer hard work and intelligence.  He was brilliant.  He would be up at 5 a.m., lecture at ILS Law College at 6. 30 a.m. then drive 200 kms  to attend a hearing in the Bombay High Court. His Sumo had a desk fitted in where he and his assistants would be drafting briefs during the drive. He never had a minute to spare.  But no matter how busy, he always managed to find time for his three kids.    I used to tell him to have some fun and he would reply, “Some day, R…some day.”

Mohan.   His food is his fortune.  Starting from scratch, with nothing but a drug and alcohol history behind him, he has built up several eateries, all of them successful. He never goes to the movies, never travels, never visits restaurants that are not his own, unless he’s forced to do so.  All the time he can spare is for his two sons.

Suhas .  Although he made it to Chief Prosecutor of the State, with the help of family and political connections, nevertheless to stay at the top he had to work like a dog.   Even after having had a surgery, and unable to sit, within hours, he was back working , standing at his desk throughout the day.  He loved traveling, but rarely left his offices, or the court rooms.  He had no time for anything except work.  But he prided himself on always finding time for his two sons.

Andy had a stroke and died at age 45. But he did live long enough to see his eldest daughter defy him, elope and divorce within the year.  His two sons were too young to carry on the huge practice he had built up.  Strangers have taken over the firm he had worked so hard to set up.

Mohan has had three heart attacks in quick succession.  He is not 50 yet.   His  sons have made it clear that they have no interest in the business and will  be settling abroad.  And last month, his wife left him.

Suhas lives with his family.  He’s made his millions.  But at 72, he is bitterly lonely. His wife and sons have their own lives, which they built while he was busy with career. There’s no place in there for him.  Every time I call, he is full of regrets for not finding time for the love he ultimately lost because he had no time to devote to it and for his failure to find the time to build relationships which would last.

Conclusion:  Although the names are changed, the stories are true; and you are so clever my love, you don’t need to be told the moral, do you?

Rosemary

I Learn the Facts of Life.

Greetings!

Up until 12 years of age, I was a complete nerd. I had a head totally buried in books and that coupled with being in a very strict convent school made me a very goody-good girl. The type who when I see some now, make me want to pull their pigtails and pinch their fat cheeks black and blue. Believe me, until age 12, the poor nuns actually had me labeled as a candidate for a future nun. (Dear God, look what you missed! )

Being a bookworm, bright spark, and all that, the girls believed me implicitly when I declared in class that babies came out of the navel. How they got in there I hadn’t stopped to think, and no one thought to ask. The older ones scoffed, “of course they don’t,” but I was so convincing, (and had so often been proved right,) that they eventually began doubting their sources.

It was my mom’s red hen who finally taught me the facts of life. A real hen. The feathers and cackles type. (Google Rosemary Amle you’ll find an article in Indian Express, describing how I came to live with that same hen. Not too well written so don’t judge me by that one.)

The red hen was in the habit of coming into the verandah of the house and getting under the couch there. This couch was my hangout where I sprawled all hours, reading. Cleaning up under the couch which was a mess of school shoes and satchels, one day my mother discovered a clutch of eggs. So that was what the hen was doing there. The next time the red hen came cackling in to the verandah, I was ready for her. There was a convenient gap in the slats of the bottom of the couch from where I could look down without the hen seeing me; and lying there absolutely still, peering through the gap, I had a wonderful view of the red hen as she did her job.

Has anyone seen a hen laying an egg? Fascinating! In hindsight, it was just like having a baby except there was no blood and gore. And yes, I think it hurts the hen too. She was straining so much I could have wept for her if I had not been so engrossed in what was happening. The eggshell is soft as it comes out of the hen's butt and hardens when exposed to air. So that makes it somewhat easier, I think. (and hope.) The long and the short of the matter is that, I made the connection. (If eggs come out of a hen’s bottom, then babies….oh god, NO!)

The scales fell from my eyes. Watching the cocks chasing the hens I finally woke up to what was happening. Mom was wrong. The cocks weren't fighting the hens. Did Mom know that? Surely not. My friends said she did of course, how else were you born? Maybe immaculate conception, thought this devout Catholic girl. But the mind boggled at visualizing my mother as the Immaculate Virgin, so I concluded that perhaps Mom did know all about it. Then of course, finding the condom in Papa's jacket pocket when I was hunting for odd change, clinched the matter. Actually, I didn't know what it was. It looked like a chewing gum packet. Sonya, a classmate who never read a book if she could help it, explained that in detail and with diagrams, and also how it was to be used. (Like that? Oh, gross!!) So that's how I came to the end of innocence. A fat red hen started it and Mario Puzo's Godfather did the rest.

THE LAST WORD:

Don't forget the 25th of November. Professionals, do join the Professional Party of India and let's try to do something for the country. It is a party comprising of professionals only who want to work for the country. You can join online or write in at ppipune@gmail.com. If anyone knows of any organization set up to control terrorism or manage our politicians, do post.

The Wicked