Network Past Issues

Walking through the corridors of time
Leaving a prestigious company for a start up threw up many challenges… and joys: a perspective from an IRMA staffer

“Karmanye vadhikarasthe ma phaleshu kadachana…”These words echo through my head as I walk down the maze-like corridors of the Institute of Rural Management Anand (IRMA) even today. Translated into English the haloed words mean: “You have a right to perform your prescribed action, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your action; never consider yourself the cause of your results or your activities, and never be associated to not doing your duty”.

That’s right! I remember thinking to myself in my younger days, all the more reason for us Indians to become complacent and lethargic. It was something I would argue about endlessly to friends and family. Little did I know that I was about to start believing in the grand philosophy of the Bhagvad Gita some day.

The year was 1980 and I was working with a reputed organization in Vallabh Vidyanagar. I was new to Anand yet I, like many contemporary Indians, had been touched by the fervour of Operation Flood. Both AMUL and NDDB were very much part of my conversation with friends and colleagues when I heard about NDDB’s starting a new institution with the mandate of contributing to the professional management of rural organizations. Concerned family members and well-meaning friends were quick to point  out that not all start up ventures ended up as revolutions. Not that I was the one to listen. Enthused by the challenge looming up on the distant horizon I applied for the post of stenographer at IRMA and lo and behold! I landed the job.

Leaving a prestigious engineering firm I joined this newbie called IRMA, unheeding of the mild protests orchestrating in the background. For all concerned, it was the wrong decision. But was it? That was a question I asked of myself.

Those were IRMA’s salad days. Bereft of its present-day beautiful architecture and emerald premises NDDB’s diagnostic lab building had doubled up as the institute that was all set for formidable and unprecedented growth. While the top floor accommodated the faculty the secretarial staff was bundled together in a hall. Being the only lady in the secretarial staff, my position was considered a “privileged” one. But I still had to share a table with a colleague. The typewriters we worked on were clunky and ancient- borrowed feathers from NDDB. Slowly but steadily work gathered pace even as the spirit of camaraderie settled in amongst us. Despite the scruffy demeanour of the workplace, we knew that we were part of history in the making. We were aware that IRMA was on its way to something big even as the foundation was being constructed and a new curriculum taking shape. The newly-appointed faculty was crafting the latter with the sweat of their brow, in a manner of speaking. Photocopiers being a luxury those days we were required to type the teaching material over stencil papers and roll out copies. The typewriters, groaning with age, wouldn’t stop hammering as page after page would be typed out. Errors and revisions necessitated exhausting repeats: there would be times I would long for the clamour to stop, if only for a short respite. The breaks would occur as pleasant interludes, when the typewriters would go dead briefly. That’s when our true personalities would come out. One of my colleagues had a beautiful voice but was afraid of singing to a large audience. The singer in him finally emerged during a ‘break’. A burst of applause broke from apparently nowhere; we turned around to see one of the faculty members clapping away fervently with a smile on his face. We were genuinely touched when this revered professor promised to organize a concert especially for our colleague to bring out the singer in him. Such was the level of encouragement from our senior staff.

Mutual respect and cooperation were the dominant sentiments of those hoary days. We worked as a team showing respect and concern, always wishing to help one another to get ahead with the work at hand, to meet tight deadlines. The respect and concern extended towards the faculty as well. All this helped move work at a rapid pace.

I was among the lucky few who witnessed the ingress of the first batch of IRMA students sometime in June 1980.  Since the IRMA campus wasn’t ready by then the students had to be housed inside NDDB’s Farmer’s Hostel. It was heartening to see how quickly the spirit of bonhomie and camaraderie spilled over to the students. Faculty members became their friends, philosophers, and guides in no time. I remember the first batch of students as committed, enthusiastic, and mature. To this day, I can proudly state, I remember their names, especially the late Sanjoy Ghose’s, the young man who had confirmed admissions to the three IIMs (Ahemadabad, Bangalore, and Calcutta) but chose to join the little-known IRMA with its mission of commitment to the rural and development sectors. Working for the poor and downtrodden he laid down his life.

Memories… memories…
I still remember the first Convocation of IRMA, which was more like a festival than anything else. Owing to infrastructural constraints the event had to be held in AMUL’s premises. The late Primte Minister, Mrs. Indira Gandhi, presided over the event with the late Prof. Haldipur – a man of upright bearing – overseeing it.

IRMA finally got its own campus in 1983. We shifted all operations to the brand new campus and the students got their own hostels. The old typewriters were replaced with new ones and stencils were bid adieu thanks to the arrival of spanking new photocopiers. The teaching material, reports and correspondence, however, was still being verbally dictated by the faculty to be typed out by us and undergoing countless revisions.

IRMA became tech savvy and acquired its first computer. The computer room was like God’s abode and the computer operator, “GOD”. No one was supposed to touch the computer – nor the printer next to it – without the “God’s” permission. Interacting with “God” and his machine, was quite a revelation- that’s what I tell my son today whenever he flaunts his newly-created software.

For more than three decades I have seen faculty members come and go even as the institute has grown by leaps and bounds. Time was when infrastructure was limited; from arcane typewriters it has gone on to purveying laptops to the staff and student community, from rough drafts of teaching material to a state-of-the-art library… we have come a long way.

Performing my duties, the way Lord Krishna prescribed in the Bhagvad Gita, I pray that IRMA retain its essential soul and spirit of oneness and affection. This is something that distinguishes from other business schools.

By: Padmini Unnikrishnan E-mail: padminiunnikrishnan@gmail.com