The CEO as muse
The Hindu
On getting inspired by the likes of Sundar Pichai and Elon Musk
It is a common misconception among my readers – all three of them – that I am a purely literary type (even if a lowbrow one). You’ll be surprised, my friends, if you only knew how much inspiration I take from the CEOs and CFOs of the world to run my life like a well-oiled wet grinder.
For example, when Rojabai, the lady who gives me my meals, asked for a raise the other day, I quoted our very own Sundar Pichai when he was faced with a similar situation at Google:
‘Forget money,’ I said. ‘Just have fun at work.’ When Rojabai came dressed as Thillana Mohanambal the next day, and made purple-coloured dosas with coconut chutney that smelt like Fevikwik, I gave her the raise (a significantly higher one than what she’d originally asked for, plus interest). And told her to go easy on the fun. That put her right in her place. You’ve got to show them who’s the boss.
But what Elon Musk has done with Twitter after his takeover as ‘Twitter Complaint Hotline Operator’ has really got me. And I decided to implement similar changes in my own business, by which I mean home, and finally turn it into a profitable venture.
Following in Musk’s footsteps, my first order of business was to remove rest days for both Rojabai and Kanakam, the lady who purportedly helps out with other stuff at home. ‘No more Sundays off for you,’ I said. ‘You two need to shape up or ship out.’
You won’t believe how well that worked. Both of them arrive sharp at 7am on Sundays now. But they have not been coming on weekdays. You think that worries me? Not one bit. I am waking up at 4am and getting everything done. And my wife hasn’t even noticed they’re not coming. Ha. So easy to fool, these women, I tell you.
I take the advice of women CEOs, too. I recently read that Sara Blakely, CEO of Spanx, drives around her neighbourhood even though she lives close to her office. Why? She believes that the car is where her best thinking happens. Brilliant, no? So, every morning, I, too put on my formal pants with front crease, pick up my empty briefcase, and drive around the greater Adyar area for exactly eight minutes before heading back home and parking the car in its spot. Because that’s when my neighbour drives off to work and is liable to miss his car. I get so many ideas on this commute, I tell you. And don’t spend a rupee on fuel. Talk of win-win.