45 YEARS AND 1 NIGHT

45 YEARS AND 1 NIGHT

Sabyasachi Mohanty

First published in India in 2012 by CinnamonTeal Publishing Copyright 2012 Sabyasachi Mohanty ISBN: 9789381542620 Ebook editions also available This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, characters, and places are products of the authors imagination and used fictitiously. Resemblances to actual locales or events or persons living or dead is coincidental. Sabyasachi Mohanty asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work. All rights reserved. No part of the publication may be produced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Typesetting & Cover Design: CinnamonTeal Publishing CinnamonTeal Publishing, Plot No 16, Housing Board Colony Gogol, Margao Goa 403601 India www.cinnamonteal.in

Calmness accompanies the whole. Fear accompanies the part. Intuition looks beyond the latest object of my concern to see the stillness of all outcomes Hugh Prather

Dear Reader, I have finally completed my long cherished desire to successfully author a book. This book will soon be out of my exclusive possession and, God willing, be read by people other than me. At this stage, I feel an urge to share some of my thoughts that prod me on to write this book. When I asked some of my closest friends to read the manuscript and share their comments, they were keen to know if the book was drawn from my life. I foresee similar questions from others who read it. The book is not my story. In fact it is far from it. I will rather try to steer my life away as far as possible from the life of the chief protagonist here. This book is a work of fiction and names, places and incidents are merely the product of my imagination. I could have chosen any industry as the medium of this book, but that would have demanded severe effort on my part to understand the same. Hence, to keep things simple, I chose to write on the maritime industry-an industry in which I have spent the maximum period of my professional life. Through the lead character, I have tried hard delving into the concepts of success and happiness, though, without any definitive answer. While writing this book, I disputed with myself the validity and effectiveness of discovering the right definition of happiness, delinking myself from the views of others. I am yet to hit upon the right answer. But one thing I am certain of - The lesser the ego and arrogance, the easier is it to be happy. An individual faces numerous conflicts of interest due

to being a part of various social entities. He is himself an entity with his own individual interests. He belongs to a family, works for an organization, belongs to a nation, and above all, a global humanity. An individuals place within each entity entrusts him with certain obligations. But he is simultaneously a part of several entities. More often than not, the different obligations that he must meet are not in sync with each other. For instance, the obligations of his workplace may often intrude into his family obligations. In another situation, his obligations towards humanity might affect the obligations he owes to himself. Thus, at every juncture, its a tight rope walk that an individual is subjected to. I will now put an end to expounding my philosophy, some of which I discovered in the process of writing this book and allow you to move further. As I have already mentioned earlier, I am not a professional author. In fact this is my first attempt at writing a book. I will also like to warn you that I am a typically boring Engineer - cum -MBA who, like others of this genre, is not gifted with very high levels of creativity. So I request you to forgive me if this book is not up to your expectations. I will value your views and feedback regarding this work. And with this, I dedicate this book to you. Cheers Sabya

Contents

Restlessness Different shades The song of the sea The journey continues When Mercy went down Sweet memories Path of arrogance Streaks and dots Hope for a new dawn POST SCRIPT...After ten months Acknowledgement

1 8 13 24 39 47 55 59 76 82 87

Restlessness

...One Night

ntil recently I was an avid fan of Darwins philosophy of survival of the fittest. I believed in competing and winning. I knew I was good at both. But I never wondered about why I desired to compete. What did I want to win? It took me a complete corporate career to get down to question myself on these issues. It was another of my umpteen visits to Singapore and I had chosen to reside in this particular sea-facing hotel, mainly because there was something appealing about it. Perhaps it was the colour of the rooms or the smell of fresh lemon everywhere. Or maybe the people who are a part of this hotel. I do not know. But unlike other occasions, I was not in a situation I would have ideally liked myself to be in. Trying to get out of the clumsy feeling that was overpowering me, I made my way to the balcony of the sea - facing hotel room, hoping to find some comfort. I felt I could ease myself by moving close to the balcony railing,
1

Sabyasachi Mohanty

holding it tight and feeling the sea wind blowing against my hair and my face. And ask myself why an unimaginable nightmare was all set to turn into reality. I did not inherit my fortune and position and I have always taken pride in this fact. I have worked hard to achieve the fancies of my childhood and the dreams of my adolescence. My eyes traced the fading sun slowly setting in the far horizon and giving way to the darkness to follow. Deep violet with a streak of saffron, it looked as if the sun had no option save to just give in helplessly to the darkness engulfing it fully in its stride. As the clock on the mantelpiece ticked loudly breaking the silence of the evening, the sky steadily evolved into a deep black carpet that spread endlessly across space. It seemed as if this was how it was meant to be. The darkness had to set in and so did the silence accompanying it. The sound of silence seemed to give birth to restlessness within me. This was akin to the enveloping darkness outside. Slowly and steadily, I wanted to shut my eyes to it. I wanted to evade it. But alas, I remained unsuccessful. Once again, my heart wished for that single presence, that single sound of her step which could break this silence. I wish I could experience once again the beauty of that very familiar subtle manner in which Maya entered the room to the sound of silence. Those were the days when silence was so very soothing. And now, the same silence feels so vast and devastating. My eyes wandered outside and a waft of fresh sea breeze thrust deep down into me like a sharp knife...deeper and deeper. My lungs seemed to implode and I groped in the dark as I tried reaching the window gasping for fresh air.
2

45 Years and 1 Night

Whitish clouds were wrapping the moon outside in the night sky. The sight seemed so significant today as my life searched for an answer to the questions that plagued me. I have always believed that ones life is ones own creation. I never failed to take pride in being the sole creator of my own life. Inch by inch, I have created it with my very hands. I have toiled and worked hard to achieve this stature and position. In the 25 years of my working life, I never imagined being faced with a day when my life would come to a standstill, confronting me with questions, challenging my conscience. The most unpleasant things happen without a reason, unexpectedly. They strike hard when confidence is at its peak. Who would have imagined that things would ever go wrong when I have always won the race? It surprises me as I estimate the extent of my thoughts. Thoughts resemble that mythical sea bird which soared high in the sky beyond the heights that the eyes could focus on. I thought I could always control my thoughts. They had never drifted away without my permission. They have always been well - aligned and well - controlled within the levels of my confidence and belief. But today, they seemed to drift way into the darkness along with me. The sound of the clashing waves has always been the most pleasant of sounds to my ears. Perhaps, I hoped against hope that the closeness of the sea would ease my suffocation. A star-studded sky covering the sea always inspired me. Those little dots of inspiration got me to introspect within. My restless mind groped like a blind man into the past and I felt myself drifting away into space.
3

Sabyasachi Mohanty

I tried some deep breathing. Whenever, I am not in the right frame of mind, I take recourse to this simple trick, and take stock of myself. But, the more I tried to breathe, the more choked I felt. This didnt seem to pull me out of my abyss. Swamped in the muddiest waters of my life, I cried aloud to free myself from the suffocation. I have to survive this long night before I meet Maya. It is just the matter of a few hours before the stars can hand over command to the sun once again. In a few hours Maya would be here. Neither the twinkling stars, nor the crescent moon seemed effective enough to dilute the darkness that has shrouded me and my life. I walked back to lie down again on my bed, now and then allowing myself to peep out through the glass panes to watch the twinkling stars. Numbness seemed to have crippled my reasoning. While a part of me was weakened by my failure, another part of me took a walk down the memory lane. Thoughts intertwined with memories of the past always have an overwhelming effect. The stars were now twinkling brighter against a darkening background. I tried to estimate the time but somehow it did not matter. My mind only wanted to take cognizance of the past, a time that was no more. I moved closer to the window again and stood there lifeless. Tiny droplets of water mixed with the sea breeze softly caressed my face. It was wonderful feeling the moist sea breeze so closely. My mind travelled back into the past. I was there again in the midst of familiar faces racing up and down the office aisles. Some carried papers and others hard - bound files. I have always loved that view, that sense of achievement I
4

45 Years and 1 Night

felt watching the hustle - bustle outside my glass cabin as I sipped my coffee. Just three months ago, mine was one of the most respected names in the maritime business. The maritime consultancy firm which I had co-founded was amongst the busiest of its kind. I was considered a successful negotiator by ship-owners as well as ports, shipyards and maritime authorities. My aim was to ensure maximum profitability for my clients in their respective lines of business. I had done this reasonably well until one fine day I was accused by the Maritime Authorities in Singapore of wilful misconduct with respect to avoidable and harmful consequences. In simple words, I was one of the accused in the recent marine pollution incident when the unfortunate oil tanker Mercy sank close to the Singapore coastline. While the maritime authorities, the statutory organizations and various other claimants race to prove their case against me, I will have no choice but to remain a silent spectator awaiting the verdict. I have been accused of wilful misconduct. Wilful misconduct refers to an intentional, conscious or reckless disregard of good and prudent industry practice. I might be proved guilty of a criminal offence in getting Mercy to sail against the decision of the technical surveyor. According to the technical surveyor, Mercy was a 28 - year old single hull tanker with rickety engines and machines that could be rendered nonfunctional at any moment. Instead of sailing, she should have been scrapped. According to me, the ship would earn USD 30,000 every day as long as she was chartered to clients of the ship owner. I had done it so many times before. That
5

Sabyasachi Mohanty

was my job. That was exactly why I was invited by ship owners from around the globe to prove the seaworthiness of ships. Once again, I took advantage of the existing loopholes of the system to ensure that the ship was cleared to sail. I earned my commission from the owners of the ship. But this time, the ship did not survive the voyage and sank into the depths of the ocean, taking the crew down with her. She was also responsible for a devastating marine pollution off the Singapore coast, besides devastating my life as well. Was she alone responsible? I pondered. I didnt want to know the answer, or rather, face it. Perhaps, I am solely responsible for what has happened to my life. After all, I have always been master of all I surveyed. There is a lot of talk in maritime circles about my case, and lot of mud - slinging too. The ship - owners have smartly transferred the blame onto me. The surveyor said he had advised me against the sailing of the ship. There was truth in their accusations. I was culpable but unable to get myself to accept this reality. When the news broke three months back, my mail box was inundated with messages and e-mails. Some of them read like condolence messages, others like threats. Some others sounded like sarcastic remarks made by competitors. People remembered me for different reasons. In the beginning, I hated those moments because it appeared as if they were all against me. I knew I was not above criticism or hatred but I never expected that it will be a tirade against me some day. It was not only the press and channels, but some very old colleagues and friends who openly went against me. These
6

45 Years and 1 Night

were the same people who had showered me with hefty praise and accolades in the past. My confidence in people ended up in a landfill. Attacks were rampant. It is a terrible thing to accept the ordeals associated with the process of sliding. The last few days have made me realize that success never earns you respect. Success alienates. The mails in my mail box have alienated me from myself. As for the others, I was alienated from them long ago. It is only that the realization has dawned now... It is not just my fears preparing themselves to hear tomorrows verdict. I can also sense a deepening guilt shrouding my fears. It is this combined feeling that has fuelled and propelled the abnormal restlessness within. Looking out of the window towards the sky, I can see the patches of broken clouds wrapping the moon, just as fate has wrapped my fortunes and plunged them into a downward spiral. As my eyes lowered down, I saw the magnificent view of Singapore lighting up bathed in the first rays of moonlight.

Different shades

f the span of human life be taken as a benchmark, twenty five years is no short a time. It is probably more than half of the most productive professional period of an individuals life. Layers and layers of events are coated within this life in the form of memories. But, I face no difficulty in recollecting the chapters which shaped my life years ago... These chapters seem to have arranged themselves almost in an immaculate precision, one after another. A subtler look allows one to appreciate the fact of how bits and pieces merge together to create the perfect smoothness that is visible only in hindsight. This smoothness has evolved out of the effects of a series of connecting and almost coincidental events, which are instrumental in defining the linkage between the chapters and in guiding the same towards merging borderlines. Over the last two and a half decades, I have enjoyed a colourful and exciting relationship with my professional career. During this span, I have gradually grown in stature from a master mariner to a multinational executive of a shipping company and finally, a global maritime consultant.
8

45 Years and 1 Night

I strongly focussed on identifying and exploring different channels targeted towards my definition of success. Every professional chapter was a snapshot of a desire to unlock my potential for growth. I tried to regularly reinvent myself to fit into the demands of the business. I picked up the paces with great pleasure until one day, I was derailed out of the race. If there is anything in common which creates a sense of bonding amongst all the roles that I essayed, it is the maritime industry. I loved the sea and I loved ships. The sea always attracted me right from the very day I set my eyes on it and felt lost in its depths. I loved visiting different countries and loved trying new things, meeting new people and visiting new lands. I dont remember how old I was then but I remember those moments fairly well. I was creating a ruckus at home and wanted to go out with my father. We had recently moved in from Assam to Goa. My father was in charge of a fishing company in Goa responsible for supplying fish to ships. There was an issue with one of the deliveries and he had to meet the personnel involved to sort the matter out. He had taken me along on board the ship and that was the first time I saw the sea in its entirety. Gazing out of the local bus, I exclaimed, Look papa water...water everywhere. My father had laughed and told me that it was the sea. The endless blue waters were wondrous. A burst of the pleasant sea breeze carried a few droplets from the sea and splashed on my face. For the first time, I sensed the smell of the sea water. The whole experience was magical beyond imagination. I remember to this day how amazing going aboard the ship was. I remember asking
9

Sabyasachi Mohanty

my father whether the ship was the same as those paper contraptions he had taught me to make all those years; and remember the happy nod my father gave me then. It was difficult for me to then perceive that the sea could prove so fateful for me some day. The huge ship anchored to the sea shore looked magnificent. I had asked my father Papa, do you work here? On this ship? and my father had said, No, but would you want to work here some day? See that man there...wearing the white uniform with a cap on his head...he is the captain of the ship...when you grow up you can be one too. My first experience of the sea and the ship got embedded within me. From that day on, I craved to be on a ship some day. To experience it. To experience manoeuvring that magnificent piece of art over the blue waters of the sea. To experience the touch of the white uniform and the cap on my head. Little did I realise that one day my life will be attuned to the frequency of the sea that captured my childhood heart. Childhood memories are so evanescent. They reenter without notice. And they vanish within moments. But every time they appear, they make adults understand the power of childhood dreams. The dreams of childhood were further bolstered with the practicality of adulthood. I realized quite early in my career that success is closely linked with exploring the right partnerships with the right people. In sync with my career, different people regularly crossed my path. These were people who defined and redefined the journey of my life. Some left dents while others were subtler. Some touched my life for a very short period, while others accompanied me for
10

45 Years and 1 Night

much longer periods. I learnt from people who preceded me and passed on all that I learnt to those who followed me...Hold on. It might be wrong to consider what I learnt as learning. I would rather like to term them rules- the rules of the game. Or, to be more precise, games. I believe in experience. Be it education, jobs, or anything, the bouquet of experience I collected gave me the confidence to think and act big. But thinking big comes at its own risk. It is almost impossible to locate a situation when greed and restrain do not cross paths. The bigger one thinks, the further one moves away from restraint. I have heard people talk about success. I have heard others talk about greed. What comes under the context of success can be defined as greed to others. From where I am standing now, I have come to believe that what I used to call success earlier is nothing less than greed today. The prime reason why I find myself in this situation is probably because of my greed for success. But, trust me, it is never easy to distinguish between success and greed. There is no distinct line of demarcation. Perhaps only destiny can distinguish between the two. For the lucky ones, the final verdict will be success. For others, it can be different. I took it for granted that destiny would forever remain an ally. I was wrong. Initially, I raced past my competitors; and then I raced past my own self. I tried to run too hard. During this process, I met some generous coaches and friends who shared with me the tricks of the trade. I owed them a lot and I still do. I also met others whose tricks of life were not appealing enough to follow. I never thought I owe them as much. Then
11

Sabyasachi Mohanty

there were others who I thought were not blessed with any tricks to display. I guess I was wrong. It was I who failed to decipher their tricks. Looking back in retrospect, even years after, I can quite clearly identify those faces. Analyzing the past might probably help me derive some much - needed mental comfort. It is like taking a peep into the past to understand who actually shaped me during the course of my life and more importantly, my professional career. Its not an easy feeling when hope and guilt simultaneously overwhelm an individual. Guilt and hope have numbed me many times earlier, but they never intertwined themselves in the manner they have done so cosily now. This is, in fact, getting unbearable; crossing the barriers of tolerance, and challenging me to question myself again and again. Why did I do what I did? Is it because of the way I was brought up or, because my upbringing was influenced by all those people who had crossed my path sometime or the other? Am I a person moulded out of a mix that was shaped by the opinions of all these who crossed my path, and all those situations and experiences?

12

The song of the sea

here are so many invisible dots that have subtly defined me and my perceptions of life. During the course of my professional career, I must have met scores of extremely smart people. The kind of people who had the ability to sell ice to an Eskimo or the kind of people who could talk for fifteen minutes and negotiate a multimillion dollar deal. There were people who could build companies and others who were policy makers for countries. Bakshi was not one of them because he had none of these abilities. It happened two and a half decades back, but seems just a blink away. As I shut my eyes, I can almost visualise it happening afresh. I was in my early twenties and on my first professional assignment. It was my first job. It was the realisation of my childhood dream. It was the moment of my life I was so desperately looking forward to. After a long wait at Mumbai airport, and the turbulence of Chinese airspace, I finally landed at Incheon Airport in the South Korean capital of Seoul. It was my first international flight. For the first time I experienced a temperature of 13

Sabyasachi Mohanty

15 degrees outside. For the first time ever, I found myself inside a car that moved at 160 km/hr. I was only twenty one years old, and I loved every moment of it. I had joined the profession after graduating from the Maritime Institute. I was to join a mid-size oil tanker as a junior officer. The company which I had joined was a Korean shipping major with a fleet of oil tankers and dry cargo ships. I was very happy. Every moment was filled with success as I had known until then. Everything I craved for was there an entry into the glamorous shipping world, a job on the high seas, a salary that made me quite rich for my age and imparted a sense of satisfaction and feeling of freedom. The dream I had once dreamt was now real. Every moment was real. My first colleagues, the ships crew of about twenty one people included a diverse set of people from different countries; they were Korean, Japanese, Dutch and Indian. The Captain, a Dutch gentleman, had assigned me to assist the chief officer of the ship. A Korean gentleman named Bakshi (the Korean way of addressing Mr. Park), was the chief officer of the ship. He was the senior deck officer responsible for the loading and discharging of cargo. Bakshi had an immaculate understanding of the ships pipelines and valves. With Bakshi, I commenced on my journey of understanding the pipelines of one of the mightiest engineering marvels of mankind. He was in his mid - 40s when I first met him. But there was one thing that intrigued me. At an age when seafarers were senior Captains, Bakshi remained a Chief Officer, that is, the deputy of the Captain. As a fourth officer, I started assisting Bakshi during the pipe line inspections and the cargo room operations. The
14

45 Years and 1 Night

pipelines were meant for transferring different kind of fluids be it cargo, fuel oil or fresh water. The pipelines were extremely critical and one couldnt afford to make a mistake with respect to the pipeline operations. Any leak in the pipelines, if not detected at the correct time, could be disastrous for the ship. Opening up the wrong valves could lead to cargo contamination, which could pose real threat to the safety of the ship. I remember the attire, which we wore during these inspections: a white boiler suit that bore the logo of our Company, a safety belt and helmet on the head and a pocket of instruments which were imperative for the inspections. Entering within those intricate pipeline systems was an experience in itself. One had to creep, crawl and twist to successfully complete one round of inspection. And I was busy learning the tricks from Bakshi. I thought I loved what I was doing. One of the traits of a successful deck officer was his level of fitness. It was a demanding job in terms of physical work involved wherein we had to climb the full height of a ship and walk the complete length of a ship dozens of time every day. Then there were the complicated pipelines and other obstructions on which we had to crawl and cross. Bakshi, almost double my age, was fitter than anyone else in the team. Probably his long career in sea had kept him fit. At twenty one, I often felt a sense of guilt for not matching the fitness levels of the older man. Often, he found me lagging behind during the inspections and gently smiled at me to encourage me to match the tempo of our activities. The initial transition period moved towards conclusion.
15

Sabyasachi Mohanty

As a response to my sincere learning efforts, I was elevated to play my role as a third officer after 6 months. Bakshi had endorsed to the fact that I was now capable of conducting independent inspections. Though our regular daily interactions were now reduced, the bond we shared grew stronger. My interaction with Bakshi continued on and off during the early days of my career. We met in different ships during the course of my sailing career. With time and experience, the nature of my interactions with Bakshi changed. It went beyond the tutor-student formality and evolved into an informal friendship. You are almost my sons age I was like you when I was your age You like Betty Kims songs? Youngsters dont like it normally. Its people of my generation who enjoy her songs. Strange...Very strange you like them What was striking about the accent of Bakshi was the tinge of music in his speech. Bakshi was not a peoples man. During office hours, he could be traced in the wheel-house understanding the cargo discharge plans or the cargo loading plans. At other times, he was busy trying to understand the arrangement of the valves of the pipelines. It was as if he was deriving some sort of magical pleasure in spending so much time with the pipelines and the cargo room. Rarely could anyone trace him talking loudly in a group or party. He loved being with the pipelines and the cargo control room with his set of equipment and machinery, contributing his bit towards the smooth operations of the ship. Bakshi loved every part of the ship. It was as if he could perceive some form of life within
16

45 Years and 1 Night

them. And possibly this sense of connection made him love every equipment, every machine of the ship. Bakshi was often considered the trouble - shooter of the ship. Be it his role in manoeuvring the ship in harsh weather or getting some serious defect repaired, we knew what Bakshi was capable of. I still recollect an incident which made all of us, present on board, raise a silent toast of admiration to Bakshi. During that voyage I was a second officer, a rank below Bakshi in ship parlance. It was a foggy February morning in the port of Zhejiang in China for our dry cargo ship which was to load coal at Zhejiang. We were given a time frame of two weeks to complete loading activities by the vessel charterers. A two week period was the norm for a ship of that size for similar cargo. But it had so happened that one of the ships main cranes showed some problems during the loading process. The loading could not be accomplished without the crane operating. This was no minor issue. First, it was not easy to find out why the crane had failed and secondly, there were no technicians available to visit the ship and urgently repair the crane. The earliest we could get a technician from Shanghai was after a week. The Chinese New Year celebrations had slowed down all activities. Both the ship owners and charterers were pressurising the ship to find a way out of the situation. Collective losses faced by the owners and charterers were measured at about a million dollars per day. This was quite an amount twenty years ago. In fact, it is a colossal amount even today! It was a difficult situation. All of us deck officers, including Bakshi, were at the railings of this mighty marine
17

Sabyasachi Mohanty

crane which refused to accept any orders from its operator. Each one of us tried tinkering with various parts of the crane hoping against hope for some miracle to have it move. We kept trying for the entire day but by dusk, we had accepted it to be a hopeless task. Resigned to the situation, we moved back to our respective cabins. I remember how gloomy the dining hall was that evening. The captain was depressed and the chief engineer tense. The deck officers and engineers preferred maintaining a grave, solemn silence. None of us realised that one of us had not joined us for dinner...Only after completing dinner and whilst proceeding to my cabin did I notice some activity around the crane. It suddenly struck me that Bakshi was still under the crane. On that chilly February evening, when the entire crew was busy trying to find their comfort under the sheets, Bakshi was struggling to communicate with the stubborn crane. I jumped out of bed and rushed down the stairways to help Bakshi. When I reached midship and was close to the crane, Bakshi noticed me and waved at me. I reciprocated by waving my hand. I saw Bakshi working diligently at the wiring of the crane motor. There were wires of four different colours that needed to be worked upon. Proceeding most cautiously, Bakshi was working at getting some connections done. I had no choice but to wait and watch. I decided to walk back to my cabin and gather some sleep for a tough day that would follow. That night, until sleep crept over me, I kept looking out through the glass panes of my cabin and admiring Bakshis dedication. I did not remember when I had fallen asleep but on waking up, I realised that I had my head riveted in the same position as last night - to look out
18

45 Years and 1 Night

at the crane through the glass panes in my cabin. What I saw was unbelievable, in fact, almost magical. The crane boom was moving as the crane operator adjusted the joysticks. As I leaned further, I saw Bakshi. He was standing on the deck guiding the crane operator with the crane...Such was Bakshi. Bakshi was not the only one of his kind. I sailed in different ships and came across people of different nationalities. They were different from one another save for one common link. They enjoyed being seafarers. I remember Nagotosan from Japan, Rosino Ferera from Sri Lanka, Edwardo from Brazil and many others. Nagotosan was a second officer when I was the third officer on probably my fourth voyage. He had a strange habit. He used to carry his violin to the monkey island of the ship and used to play violin for hours together, completely immersing himself in its rhythm. Rosino was a third officer when I was a second officer. Rosino was like a junior Bakshi. His love for pipelines, manoeuvring, cargo systems and engines was just remarkable. He used to spend hours with the machines and pipelines humming folk tunes from Sri Lanka just as Bakshi used to hum Betty Kims songs while he scanned the pipelines. Edwardo had joined as a fourth officer when I was a chief officer. Edwardo was attached to me for training just as I was attached to Bakshi seven years ago for my initial training. Edwardo was an amazing cook. He used to treat the entire crew with the varieties of Brazilian barbeque which he so caringly cooked once a week. Life was as beautiful as it could be with the ships. Very few things could match the pleasure of sailing on a ship
19

Sabyasachi Mohanty

when the sea was good. The reflection of the evening sky in the sea, the sea gulls escorting the ship, the enigmatic acoustic variations from the machineries as the ship sailed majestically, the waveforms-everything was so enchanting. And, there were people who formed a close bond with each other. I was charmed by all these. I was charmed with the sea and the distant lands we visited. Every day was a new day in a new location. I vividly remember one of my voyages as a third officer. I was sailing in the freezing North Sea in an oil tanker in the month of January. It is always a spellbinding experience if you sail North Sea in the winters. North Sea is never kind and takes immense satisfaction in being at its ruthless best in winter. Rolling can easily touch the 35 degree mark when the ship is in ballast; when mixed with pitching, it can make life really uncomfortable. Even the most seasoned of sailors finds it tough sailing the North Sea in winter. The complete span of this trip was more than two months. The weather was almost uniformly chilly. But one day, the sun rose and the sea was not as rough. I decided to move to the bridge wings and saw the most panoramic view ever - the rays of the sun were playing with the shimmering waves, some rare species of sea fish were jumping high into the air, huge colorful sea birds were flying not very far from our ship against a colorful horizon. I still recall the day which enlightened me to the beauty of natures creation. This was an image of the Divinity that made me believe in the unfathomable Absolute. Eight long years passed by and I was elevated to take over as the Captain of an oil tanker. I was twenty eight when I
20

45 Years and 1 Night

took command of my ship. I was proud to wear the white uniform with the cap. It was what my father had made me dream of in my childhood. My maiden assignment as Captain was followed by one ship after another under my control. One voyage after another on the high seas. But somewhere within me I was beginning to drift. As I continued at sea, I realized that my initial enthusiasm with my job had waned. I felt incomplete and dissatisfied. This was probably because my role began and ended with each ship I commanded. Each voyage was a repeat of the previous. My role never allowed me to stretch beyond controlling a ship. For instance, I knew nothing about the commercial aspects ruling the ships. Nor could I understand why ship owners behaved the way they did. Probably, I was too inquisitive. I wanted to step into the financial decision-making process of the maritime industry. Gradually the initial excitement of understanding the ship and admiring the sea started subsiding. The white uniform with a cap was no more a source of pride. I was overwhelmed with a strong desire to understand commercial shipping. I wanted to take bigger commercial decisions, and decide on which ships to buy and sell, and which markets to explore and which to let go. Every time I saw people from the head office visit the ship, I longed to be like them. I wanted to have the power to decide the fate of a ship and not be limited to controlling her during a voyage. This was also the time when I saw some of my friends moving into corporate shipping and climbing up the hierarchy into top positions. I craved for more. My restive heart now decided to look out for opportunities away from
21

Sabyasachi Mohanty

the sea. And life presented exactly the opportunity I was looking for. Two and a half decades later I understand that I was in reality craving to don the arrogance of corporate hierarchy. Its all about business and its all about money. Ships are just a medium to earn this money. They are no objects of mere magnificence and beauty. Years after, looking out at the night sky studded with the stars, I feel a terrible, momentary longing to move back to the days when I used to sail. To meet people like Bakshi, Nagotosan, Edwardo, Rosino and many others whose names slowly get refreshed in my memory. I did not even consider remaining in touch with Bakshi after I quit sailing. It is peculiar that years after, when I am devastated, I am longing to meet him. Probably because, Bakshi was the simplest man I ever met. Besides, in spite of he being my first professional mentor, I could never truly appreciate his simplicity. Bakshi built the foundation on which rose the edifice of my professional career. Without him, I now realize, I would not have been successful in understanding ships so well. I used this foundation to kickstart my career and build my future. Did Bakshi never feel like exploring the vastness beyond? Was he not ambitious enough or did he genuinely love what he did to the extent that he never thought of exploring any other career options during the course of his long career as a chief officer. Possibly he just loved ships, the way they are. How he continued doing that for decades is something which I could never fathom.
22

45 Years and 1 Night

What would have happened if I had continued in my first job? Just like Bakshi. I had laughed at him then. Subconsciously within me, I had branded him as a failure in life. Years after, I wonder whether I would have been happier today had I remained a sailor. With steel and machines to play with and colleagues like Bakshi in a ship, my life could not have been simpler. Today, I am of the same age as Bakshi was when I had first met him in sailing out of the port of Busan in South Korea. He was a simple man who desired a simple life. He did not even want to become a Captain. He only wanted to spend time the way he loved. Some people have such an amazing control over their lives that they define it in a manner too simple for complex - minded persons like me to understand. I realize today as I think of Bakshi - Life is never meant to be complex. It can be very simple indeed, provided we choose to let it be so. Once again, I could see Bakshis tall self, standing right in front of me smiling his fatherly smile, simple at heart. His smile always reflected the simplicity of his being genuine. A sense of contentment. And today, I could see him standing there and smiling at me just as he had always done. My mobile phone rang aloud breaking through the silence. It was Maya. She was at Mumbai airport waiting to board a flight for Singapore.

23

The journey continues

can clearly remember the day I quit sailing. Some of my ex-colleagues had gathered to bid me farewell and wish me luck. Bakshi was also present. While wishing me luck in my new venture, Bakshi had told me Wish you luck as you pursue your dreams in the corporate jungle. Hope life remains simple. I had never understood the gravity of his statement then. I was this dreamy eyed boy who had accomplished his wild dreams of sailing and was all set to embark on his next voyage to explore higher dreams. My new dream was to take bigger decisions in the context of an organization. With that dream, I had applied for a suitable job to various shipping firms. A reputed Norwegian shipping company selected me to be part of their international business development team in Singapore. My role involved fixing the companys ships to various oil majors for the transfer of oil and oil products, and in the process, build the top line of the company. Within a few months after my initial orientation in Singapore, I was deputed to West Africa. West Africa, I was told, was the land of future business
24

45 Years and 1 Night

opportunities and considering the strategic importance of the continent for global business, I must take advantage of the situation and prove myself there. This was fifteen years ago. Huge oil reserves had just been discovered off the Atlantic coast of West Africa. Oil and Gas exploration activities had crossed the nascent phase with Nigeria and Angola found to have reserves enough to upset the dynamics of global oil trade. Congo and Gabon were also expected to have adequate oil reserves. Numerous companies and individuals had evinced interest in the new developments. My company did not want to miss the first mover advantage and was amongst the earliest organisations to have opened an office in the region. One of its smartest professionals, another Indian named Mr. Yash Narayanan was in charge of the African SBU (the short form of Strategic Business Unit, as we used to call it) as Country Manager. With our African corporate office based out of Cape Town in South Africa, we had easy mobility to almost all the oil rich countries of West Africa. The major hubs of operation were in Nigeria, Angola, Congo and Gabon. Those early days of my corporate career are still so fresh in my memory. I had arrived in Cape Town to assist Yash. The company had provided me with an apartment in one of the localities where a lot of foreigners lived. Though I had recently married, I had decided not to bring my wife Maya to Africa. Safety was one issue and secondly, my job contract entitled me to a months leave for every two months of stay in West Africa. This allowed Maya to continue in her chosen profession and at the same time allowed us a month of quality time for every two months of separation. We had
25

Sabyasachi Mohanty

convinced ourselves that this was the best solution. Yash stayed close by and when I visited his apartment a few days after, I realized how small my apartment was. Yash loved to live life king-size. Yash was one of the interviewers when I was interviewed for selection by the company. I had met him for the first time during that interview in Singapore. I was unable to identify any means by which I could connect with him. There was humility in his voice, and arrogance in his tone. He had the ability to come close one instant and distance himself in the very next. It was difficult to decipher him, especially for someone like me who had only spent a decade in the industry until then. Yash was about fifteen years senior to me in the corporate ladder. And until the last time I met him a few months ago, this man remained as undecipherable as ever. Of course, he is now retired from active corporate life. Yash believed in precision and measurement. His attire, his conversations, his very being everything about him happened to be well measured. It was as if someone residing within him contemplated a thousand times before delivering any word out of him. Yet the immaculate flow of sentences from him demanded a very attentive listener to grasp the essence of his speech. He was flawlessly clear and religiously logical. To be honest, I am yet to discover someone as no-nonsensical and matter of fact as Yash was. He was undoubtedly a born marketeer and a natural salesman. He was the kind of person who could successfully sell ice cubes to an eskimo in Iceland and profit out of it. But unlike many successful marketeers, he was an astute investor with a strong understanding of finance. This mix
26

45 Years and 1 Night

of talents was what made him the perfect businessman. Yash believed in a very simple concept. As long as the end brought happiness and satisfaction to all stakeholders, it was worth pursuing. The means did not matter much. The not-so-white means could be easily overlooked if collective success was achieved in the end, and brought smiles to all the stakeholders of the organization. I worked with Yash for almost half a decade and that was the time which probably infused in me all the traits that were indispensable to thrive in a corporate setup. It was undoubtedly a phase of transformation for me. It laid the foundation for all future material successes that life could offer me in my role of a corporate executive. I was glad to have someone like Yash as my mentor. Yet, I often felt confused and could not satisfactorily convince myself about the ethical propriety of the means we followed. In spite of hailing from India where stark inequalities divide different strata of the population, West Africa left me deeply disturbed. At the individual level, the experience of living a life of luxury in a continent where people struggled for their very existence, left me unsettled. And these people were the natives of the land, the real owners of West Africa. At the business level, I witnessed the tremendous profits foreign companies garnered from oil exploration, production and transfer. In spite of being terribly poor, these countries were extremely rich in oil. While I felt terribly sad within seeing the plight of the natives here, a fresh excitement invigorated me when it came to business. At the company level, it was no secret that the West African SBU had the highest profit margins amongst
27

Sabyasachi Mohanty

all the other SBUs of the company. Yash had ensured that a strong market entry was associated with a rich bottomline for the profit and loss statement. The time was just apt to add more business, or, in other words, bring in more ships under the purview of the said SBU to increase its size. Yash had managed to bring in only 4 of the companys fleet of about 75 ships into West Africa in the last two years after he was entrusted with its responsibility. Bringing in 4 ships within two years of operations and running them profitably was no mean achievement. But Yash wanted more. More ships in West Africa, more revenues and more profits. That was the first time I learnt about the concept of more in the corporate context. I learnt that the sky is the limit I continually battled my own self as I found it difficult to accept certain norms that characterized our dealings in West Africa. It was a clash of basic ideals. Until then, I had always questioned the ethicality of offering gifts to manage clients and win business. What is actually a gift in the corporate setup? Is it a gift that a friend offers to another so that he can take advantage of the inefficiencies of the market? Or is it the means to achieve something that will be beneficial to the organization one works for? But every time I handed a gift to achieve something, my conscience deprived me of my sense of achievement. However, as taught by Yash, I told myself, I am here to do business. I am here to win contracts. I am here to enhance my top line and bottom line and create value for my stakeholders. I am clear in my objectives. Initially, I found it hard to abide by this philosophy, but practicality did not offer any better
28

45 Years and 1 Night

alternatives. And at the end of the day, what is ethics? If gifting something to a friend to gain an advantage over competitors is wrong, then how do you endorse the other routes which are devised to build relationships between client and vendor? Until today, I am unable to fix reasonable boundaries to what people like to call ethics. And that is precisely why I find myself in the situation I am in. I still remember the instant when I offered my first gift to an official of the Nigerian government. That was a major turning point in my career. I had seen my seniors doing this on a regular basis over the years...Yet, I had fumbled badly when I offered the gifts after the business lunch in a hotel in the Nigerian capital of Lagos. The departing handshake left me awkward. But that was how I won my first individual deal. It was worth a million US Dollars in business for my organization. Moreover, the prospect of getting repeat orders increased manifold after this. I now knew how to win deals. We always have the choice of a different path to move away from the difficulties of our current state. In the event that we dont exercise this choice, does that mean that our net subconscious satisfaction level is positive? Somewhere within, we feel satisfied. Somewhere within, we are happy with the way things are moving. Yash was absolutely immaculate in every art of West African business culture. What Yash achieved only the smartest could. The means he employed to achieve them only the greediest could. I distinctly remember the complications I had faced in those early days in West Africa.
29

Sabyasachi Mohanty

Soon, I started accompanying Yash on his business development initiatives to different countries. In spite of the fact that civil wars had stopped, there was a risk attached in each of these countries. Intermittent acts of violence could emerge anytime in Nigeria while Angola was known for hidden landmines. Countries like Gabon and Congo were relatively safer. Yash knew exactly what precautions to take while visiting the respective countries. We had local agents assisting us whenever we visited Nigeria. Angola was safe as long as we did not venture into unknown regions. We could manage on our own when we visited countries like Congo and Gabon. I was just beginning to understand this mysterious Continent which the world had once identified as the Dark Continent. This was the time when I was expected to take over all the business development activities from Yash so that he could give more time to other strategic activities. This was also the time when I was fighting a strong ethical debate with my own self. Doing business in Africa had its own nuances that ruled the game. But then as Yash used to say Its the end which is important and not the means and the end in our context is to create value for all the stakeholders. I remember once trying to argue with Yash over the concept of ethics. Yash was a perfectionist. No one argued with him. Everything was either black or white. There were no grey areas; no middle path. He had no time for explanations. But years later, after his retirement he had once confessed, Yes my boy. It did stop me. But I didnt. He always addressed us as boys. When I bluntly asked him,
30

45 Years and 1 Night

You mean you never felt you were doing injustice to anyone. He had donned his usual smile and said My boy! Injustice? To whom? Never did injustice to my organization and to the hundreds of people it employed who could have otherwise gone unemployed. Clients also got business from us at cheaper rates. And as for rivals, if I would have done them justice they would have done injustice to me and my company. So somewhere within him he had found a genuine reason. And genuine it was. One of the most interesting aspects of the corporate world is that it gets one to disown ones much - adored principles in life. Every time, I welcomed a fresh batch of employees into the organization, I loved spending some time promoting my concepts of ethics to them. Ethics, I would stress, happen to be the foundations on which rest the pillars of successful business. Alike my seniors, I would keep the definition of ethics as open - ended as possible. I had been left free to fix my parameters of ethics as I had progressed. I allowed the same freedom to those who followed me. I sometimes wondered why I stood preaching the concepts of ethics that I rarely ever practised. It was probably because the mentor I admired most - Yash - had done the same. I re-discovered myself in those early days of my corporate career, or perhaps, re-invented myself as never before, metamorphosing into an individual stripped of any ideology. Soon, I had no problems with what I was doing. I never had any formal business education. As a self taught professional, I was impressed with the concept of free price mechanism. It was so magical that if I had pursued
31

Sabyasachi Mohanty

an academic career, I would have been a strong advocate of this theory. However, in real life, I practised the exact opposite professionally. I always tried my best to block a free market wherever possible. I reckoned it to be the best means to kill weak competition which, if left uncrushed, could create a problem in me pushing ahead. Co-existing was never easy. Compromise was the basis of co-existence. And I did not want to compromise as business never thrived on compromises. But now I wonder, what if I had not offered that first gift to clinch my first deal in Nigeria? Probably I wouldnt have won my first contract and got my first crucial promotion or even the subsequent contracts and promotions that marked my career graph. Probably, I would not have found myself in the corner office so early in life charting routes to enhance value for all our stakeholders. Investors loved our companys shares and employees loved working here because they were paid well. The company got the day zero slot in business school campuses to get the crme de la crme of talent. If I had not offered my first gift, would all these still be happening? As I moved ahead, I learnt one of the most subtle aspects of corporate life. I learnt to manipulate my exterior appearance so as to hide the bouquet of emotions deep inside. It meant giving my warmest smile notwithstanding the demands of my heart; learning when to speak and when to maintain silence. As shrewd businessmen say, learn to control your emotions. Mastering these techniques marks the beginning of a successful career. I had learnt this well. I could hold myself back from a deep desire for introspection.
32

45 Years and 1 Night

I also learnt the tricks of successful communication. Communication is more than conveying our thoughts and understanding of an issue to another person. It can be as silent as a nod, it can be as warm as a hug, and it can be as sweet as a smile. It can be anything that gives us a chance to connect with another person and vice versa. Communication is not a uni-directional flow. It is about understanding and being understood. But I learnt how important a tool it can be. Yash had mastered the skills of flawless communication. He would always assess the other person before he spoke and uttered only what that person could connect with. This ensured that he always had his way as smoothly as possible. It definitely takes a lifetime to understand the tricks of communication and study the psyche of the opposite person. And the sooner one masters this skill, the faster one rises up the corporate ladder. Whenever, I think of Yash, I cannot but help thinking of business in all its colours. During the entire course of my career I have admired Yash not for the means he followed but for the ends he achieved. Still, as I think of Yash, I cannot but help question the conventional definitions of honesty and respect. Thinking back about somebody with whom one has spent a reasonable chunk of time professionally evokes a feeling of nostalgia. If that person happens to have been a boss, a guide and a friend, this sense of nostalgia can further evolve into something far deeper. Working closely with Yash and learning from him the art of lateral thinking as well as the conventional wisdom of
33

Sabyasachi Mohanty

business was a dream opportunity for a novice aspiring to reach the stars. I started considering myself extremely lucky. I learnt from him what he respected religiously. I almost followed the same trajectory which he had carved out in his life. In many ways, my corporate career took the same turns and bends as his. Gradually, I transformed myself into a firm believer of ends and life was never the same again. I worked under the tutelage of Yash until he moved out of West Africa to become a part of the top management in the Norwegian head office. Though our regular interactions became limited, we remained in touch with each other. Since I idolized Yash and considered him my inspiration early on in my corporate career, my learning mirrored his methods and processes. From where I am today, I have this tremendous desire to know if time had had any impact on this man. Did Yash ever feel a sense of discomfort while offering gifts? Did his heart always endorse and approve of what he actually did? Did he ever feel the way I am feeling now? I know he was lucky, I am not. At this stage of life, as a retired professional from an active corporate career, I am sure he will not mind speaking his heart out. But more than anything else, there is a fear lurking within me. Did I make a mistake in identifying my means and ends correctly? Was it wrong on my part to accept the definition of ends and means as defined by Yash?. oo By the time I was summoned back from West Africa to join the head office in Norway, the size of the SBU had
34

45 Years and 1 Night

increased to 12 ships, an annual revenue of about USD 100 million and a very handsome bottomline. In other words, the West African SBU accounted for about 20% of the Companys revenues and there were reasonable opportunities for further enhancement of revenues. I was rated amongst the star performers of the Company and was hence asked to join the management team at the corporate head office. For a reason I could not fathom, the move did not leave me particularly happy...Perhaps, I was deeply attached to the unit that I had helped successfully build. Probably, I felt possessive about it, or else, looked upon myself as the creator of the West African SBU. In hindsight, I now realize that I feared losing my freedom. Although moving to the corporate office was associated with higher responsibilities and monetary rewards, I possibly feared that regular board room discussions would rob me of the freedom to take quick decisions at the ground level. I remember the day when my exit formalities from West Africa were complete. One Norwegian gentleman named Mike was to take over the responsibilities of West Africa from me. Over the last couple of months, I had devoted enough time and energy to ensure a smooth transition. We had visited all the West African countries together, met all our regular clients and agents who mattered in our business. I ensured that Mike was conversant with the country - specific and client - specific cultural issues and the means of doing business, that I learnt from Yash eight years ago. Bidding goodbye to Africa, I decided to move on. Norway was a much more comfortable place where I could relocate
35

Sabyasachi Mohanty

with my family. I was sure that my wife and daughter would have no issues to move along with me now. It was a positive development in my personal life. Finally, there would be no more two - months work and one month holiday to catch up with my family. I arrived in Oslo at the peak of winter in the month of January. The temperature was well below the sub-zero level. I was to join the company as President - Corporate Affairs, a role extremely critical for the overall health of the organization. However, things did not turn out as beautiful as they had seemed from afar. Though, the quality of life was far more comfortable than it was in West Africa, I came across several problems. It was not feasible to shift my family from Shimla to Oslo. Maya had recently resigned her teachers job and was in the process of starting an NGO. My daughter, Asmi had just completed her primary schooling and Maya wanted her to continue in Shimla. I was disappointed. But I ensured that I was granted a weeks leave for every month of service. The two month-one month schedule was now replaced with a one month-one week schedule. As life went on, the loneliness in my personal life overshadowed the excitement in my professional career, and left me dejected and forlorn. My professional life was complicated and involved dealing with the highest level of global corporate affairs. Yash had retired from the company and relocated to India. Things were not as easy as they had been in West Africa. I was perhaps not too comfortable attuning myself to the cultural sensitivities of Scandinavian life. There was no pleasure in winning contracts, and ornamenting the P&L
36

45 Years and 1 Night

statement. The higher pay and respect had been at the cost of my own freedom and decision making powers. Heading corporate affairs was a completely different ball game. Boardroom arguments and lack of a fast moving professional decision making process was not very appealing. A different breed of professionals now held sway here. There was this class of people whose typical traits had irritated me in the past but impressed me with time. Come what may, these individuals easily swam through their daily rituals without anything affecting their exterior calm. Their emotions held no correlation with the judgment of their critics. They were happy creatures with limited capability to empathize with lesser mortals. They were well versed with the rules of mortal success, and occupied the highest echelons of the Company. Unfortunately, I could not exactly classify myself as among them. Neither could I fit into this category in spite of my best efforts. During this period of frustration, I received a mail from one of my old acquaintances Capt. Vladimir. We had shared a few common ships between us as sailors many years ago. After a successful corporate career, Capt Vladimir was about to embark on an entrepreneurial venture in maritime consultancy, He wanted to know if I would like to join him as a partner. Capt. Vladimir was the kind of person who could get new dishes added in the menu card of a restaurant by his charms. Blessed with what psychologists like to call perceptive intelligence, Capt Vladimir could easily gauge
37

Sabyasachi Mohanty

what was going on in the head of any person in his vicinity, and carve out a win-win situation out of anything. I decided to quit the Company which I had served for nine years. UK was going to be my next destination where our entrepreneurial venture, a maritime consultancy firm, was being launched.

38