Curiosity

"Sir, may I ask you a question?

"Go ahead” I said.

"How does one become the head of an institution like ours?"

Our institution happens to be a public institution, and quite a prestigious one at that. The young girl asking me the question was not asking me that question out of curiosity. She was not that close to me. She was one of the juniors. We had discussed things a couple of times, not more than an hour every time. I was in quite a senior position myself, and a person that young would never engage in idle talk with me. She did not seem to be asking that question with a view of grooming herself to be the head of an institution one day. Perhaps she would, but that did not seem to be the intention. On the other hand, I knew she had been associated with the head in connection with something not very important to the head, but very important to her.

"Why do you want to know such a thing?" I countered the question with one of my own.

“Just like that," she said evasively.

I knew it wasn't just like that. An intelligent person does not talk shop with someone so senior and hitherto not well known to self. She was intelligent. When she had been telling me about the problems she was facing and the effect of all that on her, I had advised her to read Stephen Covey. It appeared that she had already read Covey while in school. I had advised her to read that book again, but I had been impressed. Reading Covey in school and understanding him was no small thing. A person who had understood Covey was finding difficulty coping with things. That might sound unlikely. However I could understand it, because I knew Covey had not known how things worked where we were. She sounded as if she was disillusioned and either needed confirmation, or just wanted to let me know what she was convinced about was the truth.

"The head of the institute is selected by public service commission" I said.

“And what are the selection criteria?”

“Merit is essential. You have to be in the position of head of a section for a specified period, and that cannot happen without essential qualifications." I knew that. I was a section head myself,

"Is that all?" she asked.

"No, then they see your scientific publications, research, and administrative abilities. There is actually an interview by a group of specialists," I said.

"----" she wanted more information.

I debated whether to tell her the whole truth. At her age, I myself had believed that merit was supreme. Some people had told me I was wrong. I had believed I knew better. But as age advances, one sees a lot of things. I had seen a lot and learnt a lot.

She kept looking at me expectantly, partly because I had stopped abruptly, as if there was more to come, and probably also because I could not keep an impassive face and she could read my thoughts.

“I know that there are a lot of people who have similar qualifications, and it becomes a bit difficult to choose one person from so many. I don't know for sure, but I understand that one also needs influence of people like ministers, references from powerful persons in business circles, and even payment of large sums to get selected. I hear sometimes these become the primary deciding factors”.

“Uh! That explains a lot of things," she said. "Thank you very much sir."

She left. I still don't know if I did the right thing by telling her all, or I should have let her find out the hard facts of life on her own. She was old enough to vote. She wanted to know. I told her the truth. If this logic is true, why am I uncomfortable now, long after she left? Is it because I made a cynic out of a young person, depriving her of years of happiness in pursuit of the top post, or is it because I fear she might opt to adopt the unfair means rather than hard work to achieve her goals?