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 Rs30 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 realized 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 impolitely, '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
realize 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. 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. Sudha Murthy is a widely published writer and
chairperson of the Infosys Foundation involved in a number of social
development initiatives. Infosys chairman Narayana Murthy is her husband.)
Article sourced from: Lasting Legacies (Tata Review- Special
Commemorative Issue 2004), brought out by the house of Tatas to commemorate the
100th birth anniversary of JRD Tata on July 29, 2004
