Emancipation of the Indian women
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
An angry letter from a
young lady made JRD Tata change his rule Sudha was livid when a job
advertisement posted by a Tata company at the institution where she was
completing her post graduation stated that "Lady candidates need not apply". She
dashed off a post card to JRD Tata, protesting against the discrimination.
Following this, Sudha was called for an interview and she became the first
female engineer to work on the shop floor at Telco (now Tata Motors). It was the
beginning of an association that would change her life in more ways than one.
THERE are two photographs that hang on my office wall. Everyday when I entered
my office I look at them before starting my day. They are pictures of two old
people. One is of a gentleman in a blue suit and the other is a black and white
image of a man with dreamy eyes and a white beard. People have often asked me if
the people in the photographs are related to me. Some have even asked me, "Is
this black and white photo that of a Sufi saint or a religious Guru?" I smile
and reply "No, nor are they related to me. These people made an impact on my
life. I am grateful to them." "Who are they?" "The man in the blue suit is
Bharat Ratna JRD Tata and the black and white photo is of Jamsetji Tata." "But
why do you have them in your office?"" You can call it gratitude." Then,
invariably, I have to tell the person the following story. It was a long time
ago. I was young and bright, bold and idealistic. I was in the final year of my
Master's course in Computer Science at the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) in
Bangalore, then known as the Tata Institute. Life was full of fun and joy. I did
not know what helplessness or injustice meant. 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
Rs 30 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. I 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 Narayan 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