A Journey to India

Being born and raised in Pakistan, I was always intrigued by the mysteries of the country we’ve now been separated from for almost 60 years. Our history of armed conflict had created hostility between the two countries, but the pull of cultural similarities sustained the allure of the other.

Recently an opportunity arose that required me to visit India to evaluate Indian outsourcing companies and to asses the possibility of off-shore development. This started my arrangements for a journey that was more thrilling than a mere business trip; I was excited! Seeing the land of Gandhi, Nehru, Dilip Kumar, Lata Mangeshkar, Arundhati Roy, Khushwant Singh and numerous others - some of whom we respected grudgingly while others we admired unquestioningly – was the fulfillment of an old desire.

I was shocked when our legal department informed me that the Indian consulate general in New York had refused to issue me a visa without the foreign office’s approval. Because of my country of birth, my background had to be investigated and cleared by the foreign office before a visa could be issued – estimated time: 6 months. When repeated phone calls from our corporate attorney didn’t yield any results, I reverted to the age-old desi method of getting things done – sifarish.
My nephew is married to a wonderful lady of Indian origin. A Virginia girl by upbringing, she can put on a demure sing-song Indian accent to charm the wits off any Indian babu or diplomat. She sprang into action as soon as she heard the story of my plight. She called every senior official imaginable at the Indian embassy. Casually mentioning her dad who used to work at the embassy, and respectfully pleading with the Consul General, she was able to convince him to issue the visa. Lo and behold, within a couple of days my passport was stamped with a karakaydar Indian visa.

The Indian experience started as soon as I boarded the Air India flight from London. Unbeknownst to me, the flight was partially chartered by the followers of Sai Baba – a renowned Hindu holy man from Bangalore. The inside of this jumbo looked very much like my imaginary view of a Hindu temple – gentle souls all around calmly meditating. It was a serene sight but I was more in the mood for Bollywood spunk and Indian spice. Luckily for me, I was traveling business. The purser in charge of the upper deck was a competent and pleasant middle-aged woman who cracked clichéd jokes while diligently helping everyone get seated and be comfortable.

Bangalore airport is old and somewhat shabby and didn’t quite fit the image of the gateway to the world center of technology outsourcing that I had in mind. In the arrival hall, a man in a white leisure suit was holding a handmade sign with my name. As I approached him, he welcomed me with a bright smile and introduced himself as “your driver, Shashi Bhushan, sir.” For the next six days, Shashi was my driver, guide, personal assistant and shopping consultant.

At 2: 00 AM the temperature in Bangalore was a comfortable 70 degrees as a cool breeze was blowing. Hungry for Indian sights and sounds, I asked Shashi to turn off the air-conditioner and open the car windows. We drove through the cantonment area, which looked very similar to other British-built military bases in the sub-continent. Apart from the Hindi or Kannada signs, the army messes with wrap-around verandas, military offices adorned with regimental insignias and the well-maintained roundabouts and sidewalks reminded me of various Pakistani military neighborhoods where I had spent a part of my life.

The drive from the airport was short and within 20 minutes we were at the colorfully tiled arched entrance portico of the Leela Palace hotel. The splendid hotel lobby is tastefully designed with a mixture of marble arches, carved wood panels and brass and copper fixtures in matte finish. With large and luxurious rooms, elegant décor, and courteous service, Leela Palace is definitely a grand hotel. Since this was my only free day, the yearning to explore the town made me restless and prevented me from relaxing in my company-endowed plush and luxurious environs. I was up and ready to explore the city of gardens by mid-morning. Shashi was waiting for me in the lobby. As soon as the car left the hotel premises, I encountered the typical sub-continental helter-skelter – rickshaws spewing dark smoke, 50 cc motorcycles with entire families piled on top, horns blowing incessantly, and buses full beyond capacity; I felt completely at home.
The famous Cubbon Park was our first stop. Bangalorians from all walks of life were out taking advantage of a beautiful Sunday. As I walked around, I wanted to get a sense of various conversations between the park-goers. The sounds of people talking around me were entirely alien to my ears and I felt out of place. The imposing High Court and the Karanataka Legislative buildings loomed before me. I leisurely strolled to the vicinity of these impressive structures and took some pictures.

After a drive around Ulsoor Lake and a quick walk through Lal Bagh – the 18th century botanical gardens built by the legendary Tipu Sultan – we drove to the Taj Residency Hotel. Still true to its original design, Taj Residency is a hotel of old-world charm. With immaculate lawns, wide verandas, white-washed walls and classic furniture, it maintains its original non-ostentatious elegance. It was mid afternoon, I was famished and they were serving their grand Sunday North Indian buffet – a fortuitous opportunity. Sitting in the classically appointed porch and eating lamb khara masala and urd daal with fresh-from-the-oven naans combined with coconut-coriander chutney was a taste-bud titillating experience – my best meal in Bangalore.

I didn’t want to leave the comfort and beauty of Taj Residency, but Shashi was eager to take me to ISKCON Temple – a glass and concrete geometrical structure built on top of a giant rock. I queued up and started following a long line of worshipers at that bottom of the steps that lead into the temple. In my kelly-green polo shirt, with a camera hanging from my shoulder and a guide book in hand, I was a peculiar sight in this throng of regular temple-goers. After climbing what seemed to be hundreds of steps, we entered the main hall. I paid my respects to Lord Krishna and headed for the exit. A saffron-clad holy man standing near the exit asked me for a donation and pushed me towards an office. In a tone that was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, he asked me to set up an account of monthly donations and do my religious and moral duty. I refused, quickly handed him a few bucks and ran towards the exit before he could discover my real identity – a Muslim in the guise of a selfish, uppity Hindu.

The next morning, I set out to accomplish what I had come to Bangalore for – assess a number of Indian out-sourcing companies. The highway – if one could call it that – to the Electronic City is congested at all times and traffic moves at a snail’s pace. Besides, the innumerable traffic lights throw the flow into total chaos, as cars, scooters and bicycles try to switch lanes, cut-in, swerve by or get too close for comfort. As soon as we turned from the main highway into Electronic City, the whole scene changed from confusion to order, from potholes to perfect pavement, from haphazard structures to streamlined buildings with well-manicured hedges and plants. It was as if we had crossed over from the desperation of the third world to the opulence and orderliness of the developed world.

Stretched on both sides of the main thoroughfare of Electronic City - the Indian equivalent of the San Francisco Bay area Silicon Valley – are the sprawling headquarters of major technology companies. These office complexes – or “campuses” as they are appropriately called – have offices for tens of thousands of employees and with their well-tended lawns and winding walkways are reminiscent of modern university campuses.

Entering one of these campuses for the first time, I was reminded of the famous New York Times columnist Tom Friedman’s book “The World is Flat.” In it the author claims that the digital revolution has made the world “flat, and this flatness makes it possible for anyone to do business with billions of people across the planet reliably.

Inside these offices, the geographical distance and environmental differences between the US and India diminish considerably. With a mouse click, one can instantly establish a video connection while sharing a presentation through web-meeting over a stable and secure broadband connection. Some cultural differences notwithstanding, the communication flow between these companies and their clients is flawless – a breathing example of Mr. Freidman’s concept of flatness.
My day-long meetings with the senior management of various companies – a significant number whom are IIT graduates – were informative and productive. It provided me a good understanding of their technical capabilities and management approach. All people attending these meetings – technical staff and managers alike - had spent considerable effort to learn about my company’s business model and were prepared to address any of my questions or concerns. Indian technology firms follow modern management techniques to the hilt but I particularly appreciated their attention to detail – big or small. In my one-on-one meetings with junior technologists – the workhorses of any implementation - I was impressed with the way these young people expressed pride in their work. It was a genuine reflection of their core values.

By Friday afternoon my official business in Bangalore was over. On Shashi’s advice, I decided to take an overnight trip to Mysore – a historic city 85 miles away. As we were driving out of Bangalore, a heavy downpour overwhelmed the city’s drainage system and made our exit in the frenzied rush hour traffic even more treacherous. While waiting helplessly in the car and watching the hectic confusion around me, I couldn’t escape the thought that a huge distance between corporate centers and mainland India still exists.

Indian achievements in technology and business are inspiring but its benefits have not reached the average Indian. The business class is cognizant of the growing disparity between rich and poor and is eager to address this issue. An influential segment of Indian business is also concerned that a serious conflict with Pakistan could jeopardize India’s phenomenal growth. With increasing confidence in its burgeoning economy and growing wealth, India is in an opportune position to take bold and creative steps towards bringing stability to this region.

My 5-day stay in Bangalore was as fulfilling as I had imagined even though I only glimpsed India’s incredible diversity and glaring contrasts. A country where mosques share walls with mandirs, where one finds dosa and idli vegetarian restaurants next to kebab houses, where woman dressed in stylish skirt-suits work alongside with those clad in simple saris and colorful salwar-kameez, where modern marble and glass buildings stand side by side with decrepit old structures, where some people work with the state-of-the-art technology while others plough the fields with ancient tools. At times the disparity seemed too jarring but the vibrancy of its people combined with the social-consciousness of its business leaders augur a better future.

There is no Trevi fountain in this city of gardens where one could wish for a return visit by throwing a coin in its bubbling water. I have left a small advance with Shashi in expectation that I would come to Bangalore again sometime in the future. By that time I hope, the infrastructure of this bustling city would be well on its way to a healthy recovery and India’s continued growth would make its leadership sufficiently self-assured to rally the entire sub-continent towards a peaceful future.