There is a poignant sequence in a recently released film (“Meiyazhagan”)
where a boy and his family abruptly leave their family home, owing to a
crisis. As they are about to leave their beloved home with all the packed
belongings, they realize that they have not loaded the boy’s bicycle onto the
truck. The family decides to leave without it. Subsequently, the
cycle is given to a man, not necessarily out of generosity as much as practicality.
But the impact of the cycle on the man and his family is as unexpected as it is
beautiful to hear and watch, much later in the film. When I watched this
film, I was reminded of the famous Steve Jobs quote, “You have to trust that
the dots will somehow connect in your future.” Our lives are full of
surprises, be it in terms of people or circumstances or a mixture of
both. In the movies, one tends to appreciate screenwriting where an event
that happens earlier is tied in a surprising yet elegant manner to something
that happens much later. Our lives might not always have the kind of neat
connection, satisfying closure or a surprising payoff. But the seeds of
goodness do germinate in unexpected ways. Let me share four such instances
from my life where the way the dots connected made sense only in hindsight. But they surely did.
Until I was around 10 years old, I was barely interested in the sport of cricket. I had a friend who studied in our school for a year before moving to Dubai. He lived in a different locality. Owing to a logistical issue, his family moved to a home which was just a couple of streets away from mine. So, hanging out with him was that much easier. That was in November of 1991, when the Australian summer season of cricket had just begun. There was a World Series tourney, a Test match series and finally, of course, the 1992 World Cup. My friend not only taught me the basics of cricket but also had a depth of knowledge of the game and its history that was scarcely believable for a 10-year old. The infectious enthusiasm and passion rubbed off onto me. My love affair with cricket began that year, only to have gotten stronger with time, despite not always having the facilities to follow the game actively (when I lived abroad). My friend moved to Dubai in the August of 1992. (I sadly lost touch with him.) I had other friends later who equally loved the game. But if not for my buddy’s family moving closer to my place in November 1991, I may have never loved the sport like I do now.
As a school student, nobody except me seemed to know that I was good at Math! I actually had a very good understanding of Math and could grasp concepts much easier than I did with any other subject. But my grades rarely, if ever, reflected my love for the subject. From time to time, I would completely take my family (and my teacher!) by surprise by doing extremely well in an exam. Later, when I moved to the US along with my family for my undergrad, I had enrolled in a Math class in my first semester. I did not know that the same course had been taught in different sections by different professors. As I was walking into the computer science building, sensing my tentativeness, a fellow student asked me, “Are you looking for the Engineering Math class?” I replied in the affirmative. He said, “Come with me, I am headed there.” I sat in that class, which was taught by a person who not only rekindled and channeled my love for Math but also went onto become one of my life’s most significant mentors- Dr. Jim Jamison. Oh, one little detail that I failed to mention - I was actually assigned to another section!
For the entire semester, I would receive (physical) mails in my home stating that I was not attending the class! My parents and I thought that it was sent in error because I was doing quite well in Dr Jamison’s class! After I received a third or fourth note, just out of curiosity, I went to the administration office to show them the letter. The secretary thankfully saw the lighter side of things and joked, “You would have gotten an F if you hadn’t shown up today!” She ‘transferred’ me to Dr. Jamison’s class three months after I had started attending his classes! If not for my innocent mistake, I would have never met my mentor who taught me things far beyond calculus.
After I had worked as a software engineer for five years, I had decided to switch careers. And in order to galvanize this move, I quit my job to do a full-time MBA. While I was interested in marketing as a function, I was not really particular about the industry that I wanted to work in. My summer internship after the first year of my MBA was in the logistics space. During my second year, as I was looking for full-time jobs, I would sit in on corporate presentations on campus made by prospective employers. A free meal or a snack was always an appealing factor! But the most impactful presentation among all the ones that I attended was made by a person who had graduated from my alma mater and was working in the healthcare space. Her talk on healthcare and all the ways, small or big, in which one could make a difference (in a commercial function, even without a background in science) truly inspired me. I went to her talk looking to enjoy a zero-dollar meal. What she gave me was priceless food for thought! Upon finishing my MBA, I did join the company that she recruited for and worked there for 12 years. If not for that talk, I wonder if I would have applied for the job with as much earnestness or prepared for my interviews with as much raw passion as I exhibited back then.
The total number of non-fiction books that I had read prior to 2010 was a grand zero. I had never been an avid reader. But when I happened upon a Time magazine piece on Dr Sheena Iyengar and her book, “The Art of Choosing,” I was intrigued enough by the core topic of the book - choices - that I decided to give it a try. The book, which examined choices from multiple perspectives such as physiological, cultural and environmental, resonated with me deeply. During a work trip to New York, I also had the pleasure of meeting her in person and thanking her for creating an indelible impact through the book. She gave me a copy of the latest edition of the book, autographed with a note that read, “Be choosy about choosing and you will choose well.” I went on to realize that reading non-fiction could truly open my mind to new ways of thinking and enable me to view the world from the vantage points of the authors. Little did I know that a Time article on a book would lead to such an enduring and meaningful change in my life.
It is human tendency to ask, “Why me?” when something untoward threatens to sink our morale. We rarely ask the same question in the context of the dots that connect in ways that buoy us up. If we take a step back to look at the larger picture of our life, we realize that as much as serendipity and sequence of events play a role, the 'people' involved play a much bigger role. My sitting in the wrong section would have meant nothing if not for a professor like Dr. Jamison. My friend moving to my locality would not have mattered had not for his infectious enthusiasm and the willingness to share his knowledge. My sitting in a presentation, tempted by a free meal, would have just ended in an afternoon nap, not a career-altering decision, if not for the presenter. You see the pattern here. It is tough to force us to lift ourselves up when the weight of our life's issues threatens to fell us. But to occasionally reflect on the ways in which the dots connected in unexpectedly pleasant ways, might be a good way to lift ourselves up, even if temporarily. And while we are it, we may also pay it forward by being that dot in someone else’s portrait of life. If an abandoned bicycle can change a family’s fortunes, then we, as people, might at least try to do our bit by sowing a bit of goodness in other people's lives.
