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on the floor. I did make it to the hospital and pulled through the crisis but in those days of uncertainty and loneliness in the ICU, I realized that the most important thing in my life was my family. I realised that it was not the next promotion or designation that mattered in life. In some ways, perhaps, all these years since then have been a bonus for me, but that episode helped me shape what is truly important in life and how we should not get consumed by so many trivialities and pettiness in everyday life. Faced with the uncertainty of life and certainty of death, I have shaped my life by scripting in my head the ‘obituary’ that I would like to have for myself. With that script it becomes so much easier to make choices in life.

Like every professional going through the ‘rough and fun’ journey, I had choices to make but in my head, since that harrowing time in our lives, there has never been any confusion on the priority between family and work. I have often shared this with my colleagues when they seek permission or time off for something important at home: In our work environment, we have succession planning and role sharing; at home there are no ‘backfills’. Work does go on in our absence (and sometimes that humbles us); but there is no substitute for us, at home. Important events and occasions in your personal life never come back but at work, you can make a difference in the next quarter or close the next deal. Which is why, I often made those really long detours for two-day visits to USA when your little Sahil was a tiny tot. My friends and yours too, commented on the strangeness of a detour to USA when I was actually meant to do London-Mumbai, but I would not have missed seeing him take his first steps or mouthing his first words, for anything in the world. For me, spending time with my children, three wonderful grandchildren and their lovely spouses Minu and Aseem, is not about work-life balance… it is about LIFE itself; not to be confused with what we do for a ‘living!’ What matters in the end for all of us is the lasting impression that we leave behind. Was he a caring, nurturing, humble human being? Did he leave a legacy of honesty, sincerity and love behind him? That is what matters…

For me retirement has not brought the slowing down that it brings along for most people. I continue to work as hard, only this time it is with projects that I enjoy taking up, the ones that make a difference to the people around me. I am engaging myself with many educational institutions like IIMs, Symbiosis, not only for teaching but in the journey of institution-building. I have intimate relationship with NGOs and of course steer so many CII initiatives. It means the world to me that my Pune Power Model and Green Factory experiment are case studies used at IIM Bangalore and Ahmedabad respectively. And even though I still have long hours and endless things to do, I know that at the end of the day, I get to unwind in the company of my grandchildren and that is enough to take away the fatigue.

Pooja, when I see you head to the school bus stop every morning, holding Diya’s little hand, I remember taking you to the school bus stop in Delhi thirty years ago. When I see Sahil on the tennis court for coaching, I can almost see Amit in him so many years ago. If growing old gives you an opportunity to see your children in your grandchildren, I would have welcomed it much earlier. One of the biggest joys of our life has been seeing both of your grow up with good, home grown sanskars. The credit for the wholesome upbringing goes to your mother, who, without any hesitation, gave up her career as an architect, to focus on you both. Her efforts have more than paid off—and we can see her magic work with her grandchildren.

I want to close this letter with the fun question we all used to chuckle about as you kids were growing up—how did God choose to send the best son and best daughter in the world to the same parents. Gudiya, I am still posing the same question to God and am grateful to him for his kindness.

Lots of love and blessings,

Papa

Prakash Padukone

eeting Prakash Padukone was in some way a dream come true for me, the one rare occasion when I was completely tongue-tied and at a loss for words. I still remember that school-going girl that I was then, sitting on the edge of the sofa in our drawing room, with my badminton-loving father seated beside me. I was too young to know the intricacies of the game but was used to hitting the shuttle around, with my father on the other side of the net, during our summer holidays in my home town, Kerala.

Back then, even if I did not know the rules of the game, I remember being struck by the intensity on face of the striking young man on television and his dogged determination to get the better of his rival on the other side. I can’t even recall the names of the tournaments that he participated in but I do remember watching several of them, each of which got wildly applauded not just by my father and me but by the entire country. India did not have multiple television channels back in the late seventies. In fact, there was just one dedicated to sports and we got to largely watch cricket, hockey, or badminton, the last of which this young man had brought into the limelight with his brilliance. Along the way, the young man

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