Parameswaran Iyer - Method in the Madness: Insights from My Career as an Insider Outsider Insider

For Indira, Tara and Venkat

Contents

AT THE OUTSET, let me reassure any intrepid reader who has taken the risk of opening this book that this is not just another memoir of a retired civil servant being inflicted upon an unsuspecting public.

Why not? Well, because my career, as the title of the book suggests, has indeed been rather unconventional. In fact, you may want to fasten your seatbelt as you continue reading because the following merry-go-round description is bound to leave you a little dizzy!

I was an Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officer for about seventeen years, then took leave of absence from the IAS and joined the World Bank in Washington DC. I resigned from the World Bank after six years to become a road manager to a professional tennis player, who happened to be my daughter. Two years later, I returned to the IAS, then quit permanently a year later to rejoin the World Bank. Six years later I left the World Bank again, this time to join as one of the longest-serving Secretaries to the Government of India, managing the Swachh Bharat Mission. In government-speak, or sarkari jargon, I have been a rather unique InsiderOutsiderInsider.

One consistent thread throughout my journey, though, has been the madness I have faced along the way. The term madness for me symbolizes the many different aspects of our work and lives that we face over the course of our careers the pressure, the tough deadlines, the politics, the camaraderie, the chaos, the fun, the highs and lows and, above all, the unpredictability. I tried to bring some method to the madness and hence the title of the book, courtesy of my wife, Indira.

As you go through this book, you will traverse the journey of my four-decade-long career, packaged in three sections and sixteen chapters. The title of every chapter reflects a key insight acquired along the way. You will also find some practical pro-tips sprinkled throughout the book tips that they usually dont teach in business schools or in civil service academies, but which I believe are crucial to succeed in ones career.

I have also resisted the urge to recount my entire life history by restricting this tale to only my career years. You will find none of the I was born in Srinagar in 1959 stuff in this book. The first twenty years of my life have been chopped out; my story begins in the year 1979, just after I returned from the US, having spent a year studying there. It ends, in the book, in August 2020, after I finished my tenure as Secretary to the Government of India.

In writing this book, I have tried to bring out the relentless curiosity, love of a challenge and the drive to find practical solutions to problems all of which have motivated me for forty years. It has been an incredible journey, and I hope it will be a fun and useful trip for you too.

3 S EPTEMBER 1979

JFK DEL

AI 112

I WAS AT JFK airport in New York, checking in for Air Indias flight to Delhi via London. I had just completed a year on an exchange scholarship at Davidson College, North Carolina, and a two-month stint teaching tennis at Nick Bollettieris summer tennis camp for children at Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, to earn some money. Fully equipped with six Red Heads aluminium-framed tennis rackets that were the rage those days, I was young and excited about returning to my country to try out a tennis career.

When the Air India agent asked me to include these precious tennis rackets with my checked-in baggage, I protested. The tennis rackets are fragile and may get damaged if kept in the hold. Besides, my profession depends on them. When the agent raised her eyebrows, I quickly fibbed, As you know, the US Open tennis championships are currently going on Im a professional tennis player and having just lost in the qualifying rounds of the tournament, Im returning to India to resume playing on the national tennis circuit. You would really be doing me a huge favour by allowing me to carry my rackets on board with me, and flashed a smile with as much charisma as I could muster.

The agent gave me a sceptical look but allowed me to take my rackets on board as carry-on luggage. I felt justified in uttering the half-truth, since I actually planned to give the professional tennis tour a shot on returning to India.

Unable to stretch out much on the long flight back, I was a little stiff when we landed in Delhi the next day. It felt great to be back and I received a very warm welcome at the airport from my parents, Venky and Kalyani, and my two sisters, Mina and Indu. I had enjoyed my student year in the US but it was now time to think about making a living.

WHILE SOME YOUNGSTERS are very clear about the kind of careers they want for themselves, there are others who are less certain. I fit into the latter category. Newly returned from the US after a years study at Davidson College, North Carolina, I was 20 years old, gloriously unemployed and looked quite unemployable too. I was also not too sure what exactly I wanted to do with my life and decided to take my chances with different job opportunities, earnestly hoping that that one of them would eventually click, and maybe even lead me to my dream job.

Trying for a sports career

Having earlier played on the St. Stephens College and Delhi University tennis teams, and then in a few minor league tennis tournaments in the US, I was keen to try out as a professional tennis player on returning to India. The full support of my parents, Venky and Kalyani, the latter a tennis champion in her Queen Marys College days in Madras (now Chennai), strengthened my resolve to attempt to make a living out of playing tennis.

As you may have guessed, my stint as a professional tennis player was brief and unsuccessful. Between October 1979 and early 1980, I played in Delhi, Chandigarh, Allahabad, Calcutta (now Kolkata) and Ahmedabad, and lost in the early rounds of all the tournaments. In Delhi, at the tennis nationals played on the Gymkhana Club grass courts, I lost convincingly to Davis Cupper Shyam Minotra in the first round. In January 1980, returning from Ahmedabad to Delhi by train in a three-tier compartment, I pondered over my future. The tennis career was evidently not working out but entering the conventional job market was not going to be easy. With only a bachelors degree in English literature, albeit from a fancy college, and with stiff competition from all the engineering and medical students, my career prospects looked rather dim.

On my return to Delhi, there was a family council to discuss what I should do next. My father, then a serving Group Captain in the Indian Air Force, felt that if I did not want to pursue a tennis career, I should consider doing a masters in English literature or study for a law degree. Mina, my eldest sister, later a lawyer, and Indu, my elder sister, a Russian language expert, were both keen tennis players themselves, with the latter having won many tournaments, and thought I should continue playing on the tennis circuit. My mother, always the realist, believed it was time for me to consider applying for a regular job. Given all the conflicting suggestions, I decided to follow my mothers advice.

Attempting to take on market forces

I put my tennis career on hold and made a foray into the private sector job market. I first applied for a management trainee position at the Delhi Cloth Mills (DCM) company in Delhi and, to my surprise, was invited for an interview. The interview panel chairman was the venerable Dr Bharat Ram, the iconic industrialist who had built up the DCM corporate empire from scratch. After a few preliminary inquiries about my background and interest in the job, Dr Ram gently posed the killer question: Mr Iyer, do you know what deflation means? Since my general knowledge at that time was limited to the sports news, I was stumped by this, and could only manage an embarrassed smile and a shake of the head. Dr Ram laughed and said: Young man, isnt it obvious deflation is the opposite of inflation! It wasnt all that obvious to me though, but what