It was probably the April of 1974. Bangalore was
getting warm and gulmohars were blooming at the IISc campus. I was the only
girl in my postgraduate department and was staying at the ladies' hostel. Other
girls were pursuing research in different departments of Science.
I was looking forward to going abroad to
complete a doctorate in computer science. I had been offered scholarships from
Universities in the US. I had not thought of taking up a job in India. One day,
while on the way to my hostel from our lecture-hall complex, I saw an
advertisement on the notice board. It was a standard job- requirement notice
from the famous automobile company Telco (now Tata Motors). It stated that the
company required young, bright engineers, hardworking and with an excellent
academic background, etc. At the bottom was a small line: "Lady candidates
need not apply." I read it and was very upset. For the first time in my
life I was up against gender discrimination.
Though I was not keen on taking up the job, I
saw it as a challenge. I had done extremely well in academics, better than most
of my male peers. Little did I know then that in real life academic excellence
is not enough to be successful. After reading the notice I went fuming to my
room. I decided to inform the topmost person in Telco's management about the
injustice the company was perpetrating. I got a postcard and started to write,
but there was a problem: I did not know who headed Telco.
I thought it must be one of the Tatas. I knew
JRD Tata was the head of the Tata Group; I had seen his pictures in newspapers
(actually, Sumant Moolgaokar was the company's chairman then). I took the card,
addressed it to JRD and started writing. To this day I remember clearly what I
wrote. "The great Tatas have always been pioneers. They are the people who
started the basic infrastructure industries in India, such as iron and steel,
chemicals, textiles and locomotives. They have cared for higher education in
India since 1900 and they were responsible for the establishment of the Indian
Institute of Science. Fortunately, I study there. But I am surprised how a
company such as Telco is discriminating on the basis of gender." I posted
the letter and forgot about it.
Less than 10 days later, I received a telegram
stating that I had to appear for an interview at Telco's Pune facility at the
company's expense. I was taken aback by the telegram. My hostel mate told me I
should use the opportunity to go to Pune free of cost and buy them the famous
Pune saris for cheap! I collected Rs.30 each from everyone who wanted a sari.
When I look back, I feel like laughing at the reasons for my going, but back
then they seemed good enough to make the trip. It was my first visit to Pune
and I immediately fell in love with the city. To this day it remains dear to
me. I feel as much at home in Pune as I do in Hubli, my hometown. The place
changed my life in so many ways.
As directed, I went to Telco's Pimpri office for
the interview. There were six people on the panel and I realised then that this
was serious business. "This is the girl who wrote to JRD," I heard
somebody whisper as soon as I entered the room. By then I knew for sure that I
would not get the job. The realization abolished all fear from my mind, so I
was rather cool while the interview was being conducted. Even before the
interview started, I reckoned the panel was biased, so I told them, rather
politely, "I hope this is only a technical interview." They were
taken aback by my rudeness, and even today I am ashamed about my attitude. The
panel asked me technical questions and I answered all of them. Then an elderly
gentleman with an affectionate voice told me, "Do you know why we said
lady candidates need not apply? The reason is that we have never employed any
ladies on the shop floor. This is not a co-ed college; this is a factory. When
it comes to academics, you are a first ranker throughout. We appreciate that,
but people like you should work in research laboratories." I was a young
girl from small-town Hubli. My world had been a limited place. I did not know
the ways of large corporate houses and their difficulties, so I answered,
"But you must start somewhere, otherwise no woman will ever be able to
work in your factories."
Finally, after a long interview, I was told I
had been successful. So this was what the future had in store for me. Never had
I thought I would take up a job in Pune. I met a shy young man from Karnataka
there, we became good friends and we got married. It was only after joining
Telco that I realized who JRD was: the uncrowned king of Indian industry. Now I
was scared, but I did not get to meet him till I was transferred to Bombay. One
day I had to show some reports to Mr. Moolgaokar, our chairman, who we all knew
as SM. I was in his office on the first floor of Bombay House (the Tata
headquarters) when, suddenly JRD walked in That was the first time I saw "appro
JRD". Appro means "our" in Gujarati. This was the affectionate
term by which people at Bombay House called him I was feeling very nervous,
remembering my postcard episode. SM introduced me nicely, "Jeh (that's
what his close associates called him), this young woman is an engineer and that
too a postgraduate. She is the first woman to work on the Telco shop
floor." JRD looked at me. I was praying he would not ask me any questions
about my interview (or the
postcard that preceded it). Thankfully, he
didn't. Instead, he remarked. "It is nice that girls are getting into
engineering in our country. By the way, what is your name?" "When I
joined Telco I was Sudha Kulkarni, Sir," I replied. "Now I am Sudha
Murthy." He smiled and kindly smile and started a discussion with SM. As
for me, I almost ran out of the room.
After that I used to see JRD on and off. He was
the Tata Group chairman and I was merely an engineer. There was nothing that we
had in common. I was in awe of him. One day I was waiting for Murthy, my husband,
to pick me up after office hours. To my surprise I saw JRD standing next to me.
I did not know how to react. Yet again I started worrying about that postcard.
Looking back, I realise JRD had forgotten about it. It must have been a small
incident for him, but not so for me. "Young lady, why are you here?"
he asked. "Office time is over." I said, "Sir, I'm waiting for
my husband to come and pick me up." JRD said, "It is getting dark and
there's no one in the corridor. I'll wait with you till your husband
comes." I was quite used to waiting for Murthy, but having JRD waiting
alongside made me extremely uncomfortable. I was nervous. Out of the corner of
my eye I looked at him. He wore a simple white pant and shirt. He was old, yet
his face was glowing. There wasn't any air of superiority about him. I was
thinking, "Look at this person. He is a chairman, a well-respected man in
our country and he is waiting for the sake of an ordinary employee."
Then I saw Murthy and I rushed out. JRD called
and said, "Young lady, tell your husband never to make his wife wait
again." In 1982 I had to resign from my job at Telco. I was reluctant to
go, but I really did not have a choice. I was coming down the steps of Bombay
House after wrapping up my final settlement when I saw JRD coming up. He was
absorbed in thought. I wanted to say goodbye to him, so I stopped. He saw me
and paused. Gently, he said, "So what are you doing, Mrs. Kulkarni?"
(That was the way he always addressed me.) "Sir, I am leaving Telco."
"Where are you going?" he asked. "Pune, Sir. My husband is
starting a company called Infosys and I'm shifting to Pune." "Oh! And
what will you do when you are successful." "Sir, I don't know whether
we will be successful." "Never start with diffidence," he
advised me. "Always start with confidence. When you are successful you
must give back to society. Society gives us so much; we must reciprocate. I
wish you all the best." Then JRD continued walking up the stairs. I stood
there for what seemed like a millennium. That was the last time I saw him
alive.
Many years later I met Ratan Tata in the same
Bombay House, occupying the chair JRD once did. I told him of my many sweet
memories of working with Telco. Later, he wrote to me, "It was nice
hearing about Jeh from you. The sad part is that he's not alive to see you
today." I consider JRD a great man because, despite being an extremely
busy person, he valued one postcard written by a young girl seeking justice. He
must have received thousands of letters everyday. He could have thrown mine
away, but he didn't do that. He respected the intentions of that unknown girl,
who had neither influence nor money, and gave her an opportunity in his
company. He did not merely give her a job; he changed her life and mindset
forever.
Close to 50 per cent of the students in today's
engineering colleges are girls. And there are women on the shop floor in many
industry segments. I see these changes and I think of JRD. If at all time stops
and asks me what I want from life, I would say I wish JRD were alive today to
see how the company we started has grown. He would have enjoyed it
wholeheartedly. My love and respect for the House of Tata remains undiminished
by the passage of time. I always looked up to JRD. I saw him as a role model
for his simplicity, his generosity, his kindness and the care he took of his
employees. Those blue eyes always reminded me of the sky; they had the same
vastness and magnificence.
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