She managed to learn five languages - her teachers were her brother-in-law, acquaintances and her children's books.Lakshmi Venkateshwaran looks like any 87-year old Tamilian maami, in a neatlytied saree with a thin gold border and the traditional five-point diamond nose ring. But that's where the similarity ends. She can read, write and speak in five Indian languages: English, Hindi, Tamil, Malayalam and Telugu.
And Lakshmi has not studied beyond Class VIII. Born in a traditional Palaghat Iyer family, little Lakshmi showed signs of scholarly success even in primary school. She excelled in Mathematics, learning her quarter-times tables, half-times tables and three-fourths times tables with ease, and picking up the beautiful and difficult classical language, Telugu. A bright student with a will to learn, Lakshmi always stood first in her class.
'I wish I could have studied more, but there were no schools for girls beyond the eighth standard in my neighbourhood at that time. Even though I was very good at my studies, my brother would just not allow me to go to a co-educational school, since I would have been the only girl in my class then!' Gaining knowledge Since she came from a background of Tamil-speaking people who lived in Kurnool in Andhra Pradesh, she had a variety of things to learn at home and at school.
At home, she learnt to read, write and speak her mother tongue, Tamil, and picked up the mantras and mythology of a priestly family. And at school, she received instructions in logical and scientific subjects such as Mathematics - in Telugu! By the time she was 10, she was simultaneously getting an informal as well as a formal education, and working in a different language for each one. Even after she'd given up school, she channelled her keen interest in learning into studying mythological stories.
"My brother just wouldn't allow me to go to a co-educational school, since I would have been the only girl in my class then!"
Marriage & beyond
At 15, life took a dramatic new turn. She was married to a dashing young man in the British Indian Army. But there was a new problem. Lakshmi's own family happened to be based in Andhra Pradesh. But traditionally, Palaghat Iyers live in Kerala. While her husband went off on posting to faraway places, the new Mrs Lakshmi Venkateshwaran was left behind with her in-laws in Palaghat.
They spoke Malayalam, not Tamil. People made fun of the young bride because she couldn't speak the local language. But the teenaged Lakshmi was determined to make a success of her life, to be the perfect wife and daughter-in-law. So she enlisted the help of her younger brother-in-law. Before her five-year stay at the in-laws' home ended, she had learnt not just to speak Malayalam, but to read and write the language!
A student still She then joined her husband, following the drum as an army wife. Raised in a sheltered, cosseted family home in the south, with a large family all around her, she was now catapulted into the unfamiliar north India, with just her husband by her side. She went to live in places such as Jammu, Pathankot, Jabalpur, Ramgarh (in Bihar) and Nashik. She also lived in a tent with her husband. And she learnt Hindi.
'It was difficult for me initially, because I could only speak Malayalam and Tamil. Almost everyone around me spoke Hindi, and sometimes English. I had a lot of trouble making myself understood,' she reminisces. Their children were admitted to schools where they began to learn how to read and write Hindi and English. Lakshmi, although she was a busy mother to six children, found time nevertheless to learn Hindi and English from her children's books, and from the people around her. And her thirst for knowledge was not restricted to languages.
She was also eager to learn the cuisine of northern India, and add new and "exotic" recipes to her repertoire. 'I wanted to learn how to make chapattis. But the Punjabi women didn't talk to me, because I was from the south, and didn't speak Hindi well then! It was a French lady, the wife of another officer, who taught me how to make chapattis,' she says. To this day, the hard-won know-how of making soft, perfectly round chapattis comes into play whenever she cooks a north-Indian meal for her family.
For her children
Six children (two of her boys were studying at boarding school) and a generous allowance sent regularly, month after month, to the large family of her husband's widowed sister meant that an expensive convent education was a strain on the family's resources. However, Lakshmi was determined. 'I didn't want my children to suffer the way I had suffered. I wanted them to learn English and Hindi.
So, I wanted my children to be able get on in the world, be able to communicate with everyone,' she explains. And so, leading one small child by the hand and carrying a toddler in her arms, the young Lakshmi spoke to nuns at the convent school nearby in her broken English. She managed to convince them to give her a reduction in school fees so that both her younger children could have the benefits of a convent education.
Her dedication to education and learning finally paid off. Not only did the children grow up speaking English like a first language, but she too learnt English! The children's schoolbooks, old copies of Reader's Digest, story books and many conversations with her children made her proficient in the language. Happy in the present Six months ago, she had a heart attack, and doctor's orders have her recovering in her son's home.
Today, she watches every Hindi movie she can, and writes letters to all her children in flowing, fluent English. All the latest issues of various magazines, in a hotchpotch of languages - right from Malayalam Manorama to Reader's Digest - are always found scattered on her bed for afternoon reading, along with the spectacle case containing her reading glasses, which she uses daily. A living example of the triumph of the human spirit, Lakshmi has, quite literally, turned the hardships and obstacles in her life into learning experiences, coming out a winner. And that has made all the difference.
As told to Radhika Sangam.
Three women who've dared to tread out of chartered routes, make their own, sometimes unusual, choices... and emerged winners
Mind over matter
Sharmili Rajput, 39, is Director Marketing at Oriflame. Her tips to women who dream big and want the best for their families...
Staying on top is a tough job. Ask any World Cup winner or a tennis champion who has a title to defend. And as Director Marketing at Oriflame,
Sharmili Rajput sure has a tough job - of managing people, promotions, finances and strategies every day to keep her company at its top position in the Indian direct selling market.
Add to it the responsibility of raising a two-and-a-half-year-old daughter and managing a home, and Sharmili has her plate full. A plate she balances on her manicured nails, but with her feet - in running shoes - firmly on the ground. True to her surname, she says her first commandment for happiness is to take the bull by its horn.
Act, don't whine, to solve your problems
'When I was working at a bank earlier, meetings between the marketing team and the product-development team were always fraught with, "that idea won't work in the market" attitudes. So I did my homework, researched every suggestion I made, and proved its viability.
That brought down the negative attitudes of people, because they could not prove me wrong. Just complaining someone has a bad attitude rarely makes it go away. Whether it is about work, about putting on weight, or dealing with a family issue, whining doesn't solve it. You have to take action.'
Everyone can go that extra mile
Fifteen years in high-stress positions and having built herself and her teams from scratch, she says most of us, especially women, underestimate our mental and physical capacities. That we rarely give our minds and our bodies the chance to perform at their peak. 'I began running when I was 28 years old. I wasn't an athlete.
But I was determined that I could run 5km at one go. I was determined to do something that is not easy.' She took blood, blisters and the pain in her stride and gradually increased her speed from jogging at the speed of 6 to running at 10 on her treadmill. Today, she runs at least 8km every day, rising at 5.45am. If this makes you breathless, this is what she has to say to you: 'Unless you have a physical infirmity, you can do it too.
It's all in the mind. If you have the intention your body will listen to you.' Sharmili is fit, has more staying power, and the endorphins the exercise releases in her body help her maintain a state of grace when the going gets tough. Also, having a baby at 36 has spurred her to take exercise seriously. 'I do not want to be an unfit and tired mother when my daughter turns 20,' she says.
Combine the heart and the mind in whatever you do
'I've grown in confidence from my days as an MBA student by ensuring I'm good at what I do. Skill comes from the mind, and the intention and pride of doing a job well comes from the heart.' This has given her the courage to speak her mind without fear, because people have seen Sharmili deliver, and know it's worth listening when she makes a point.
Attitudes are cultivated, so why grow negative ones?
'I've had failures and losses that affected me deeply. But I always talk myself out of negative feelings. People that obstruct or harm you rarely lose sleep over it. So why should you? I don't believe we are born with an attitude. We cultivate it. I've trained myself to stay positive.'
Stress is a part of life; choose your battles
'There are things you can change and those you cannot. Concentrate on the former and let the latter go. Most of our worries are self-inflicted.
Here's an example:
The laundry has not come in time. You have two options
1. You worry that the dhobi (laundry man) has run away with the clothes, is using them himself, or ruined them.
Or
2. Use other clothes and linen. And if the inefficiency of the service continues, replace the laundry man. The second option liberates because it has a plan of action. The first one just adds frown lines to your face, and weighs on you without pointing to a solution.'
Empower the people around you
At home: 'In Mumbai, as I was starting out my career, I would leave small cue cards for the maid, writing on each which vegetable was to be cooked and what her chores were. I had to because as a rookie there's no way you can take phone calls from a maid in the middle of meetings.'
At work: 'I recruit competent people. I know they will not disturb me with issues they can handle on their own. I always encourage initiative. Yes, sometimes there are errors, but fixing them strengthens the system. Why do the work you have recruited a team to do?'
It is important to indulge yourself on a regular basis
It's easy to bypass yourself in the daily list of things to do. But dark chocolate spiced with chilli, massages, shopping and reading The Frog Prince fairytale to her daughter every night charges her batteries like nothing else. 'I make the most of my free time when I'm travelling on work.
The shopping and massages in Bangkok - our region's headquarters - get me back into action always. We all need to do at least that one thing for ourselves that makes us relax and smile. My time with my daughter Ivana does all that and more.'
'Be it about work, putting on weight, or dealing with a family issue, whining doesn't solve it... you have to take action'
There is no place for egos in raising a family
Sharmili married Vir Inder, her batchmate from IIM. They began and grew in their marketing careers in Mumbai and then suddenly 'Vir got an offer of a lifetime, but it was in Delhi. We made the decision to shift as a couple. Every time I travel and Ivana is at home, he makes sure he is with her as soon as he can get away from work.
Also, we have de-prioritised our socialising to a great extent. A demanding job and a growing baby are both important. Vir and I back each other up as professionals and parents. There's little place for a "we" to thrive if we think only of our individual joys.'
Sharmili's 24 hours
5.45am to 7.30am: Wake up, have a cup of cappuccino and a digestive biscuit. Run on the treadmill for at least 8km. Or hit the hotel gym if she is travelling.
7.30am: Ivana time. Prepping her for playschool, post which her nanny takes over as Sharmili gets ready for office.
8.30am: Ready for office fortified with two stuffed parathas or poha or eggs, bread and muesli.
9.30am to 1.30pm: Meetings, presentations, reviews and spreadsheet analysis at her glass-fronted corner office at Connaught Place, New Delhi's premier business district.
1.30pm: Lunch from the canteen. A tad oily, but filling.
7.30, 8 or 9pm: Home at last and complete attention on Ivana. Her playschool stories, her cartoon films, the reading of The Frog Prince, and her dinner.
9.30pm: Dinner with Vir. Usually on the menu is roti, vegetables, dal, salad and raita. Followed by a short walk together, with Ivana in tow.
11pm: Asleep after reading a bit of non-fiction or a bestseller.
As told to Alina sen.
Ameera Shah, 31, CEO and Executive Director of Metropolis Healthcare Ltd, on how she made her father's company grow from strength to strength.
Despite the fact that only at age 31, Ameera Shah heads Metropolis Healthcare Ltd, a multinational chain of diagnostic centres, she comes across as self-effacing, and down-to-earth.
The birth of a dream, for father and daughter
'My father, Dr Sushil Shah, was running a pathology laboratory in Mumbai. I studied finance in Austin College, US. When I came back, I got a job offer. I had reasonable work experience; I had worked for Goldman Sachs and a few start-up companies.
But I told my father, "This is not my cup of tea, I want to do something where I can see the results; and this kind of work would be demotivating." My father asked me, "Do you want to be an entrepreneur or an executive?" and I said I don't know the difference! I was just 21.' On her father's advice, she spent the next few months watching what he was doing. And then Ameera transformed the laboratory into a business.
'It was a common brainchild. My father and I sat together and discussed the idea. I worked at setting it up; even now, he is not involved in the day-to-day running of the business. That's my job.' Today, Ameera has 2,500 people working for her, with centres in UAE, South Africa and Sri Lanka.
Surviving in a maledominated industry
She has to strive that much harder to be taken seriously. 'I think there are two basic issues. One is age - the people I deal with are all much older. The second is gender - ours is a male-dominated industry. To top it all, I am not a doctor nor do I have a pathology degree; which makes it all the more difficult for them to accept me.'
Her good looks are actually an added disadvantage. 'I think it depends on the industry you are in. Nowadays, there are a lot of smart young women in the financial services. Healthcare, on the other hand, is still conservative. There are few women in this industry, good looking or otherwise.' The first five years were especially difficult for Ameera. The fact that she was Dr Shah's daughter went against her.
'It was assumed that I was put in that position because I was the daughter and not because I was qualified for the job. You see a lot of that happening around you - company owners' children being promoted to vice-president or president just because they are related. But I didn't have a choice. I had to work that much harder.'
She has to strive that much harder to be taken seriously. 'There are two basic issues. One is age, the other is gender'
Starting on the bottom rung of the corporate ladder
Ameera began her career from the grassroots, literally. 'I started at the customer service desk in my father's company.' It took a while for the people around her to take her seriously.
'I used to constantly be asked questions such as, "Are you working part-time here?" or "You must be taking care of the housekeeping department!" 'When I joined his business, I was 21, I wasn't good at anything, and I didn't have any skills to speak of. But this is not necessarily about being good at something. It is about being committed, being open to learning, doing something with integrity.'
But Ameera also feels it is important to keep things in perspective. 'What I have achieved is nothing in comparison to what many other people have done; be it giving back to society in the form of fighting for a social cause or for the freedom of the country.' Does she tend to favour women? 'It's vice versa. One disadvantage is that they are less committed.
Second, I find women tend to be more emotional, and there tends to be a lot of politics and less professionalism. In our office, we have more men working than women. They are more logical, not too emotional - I find that easier to deal with.' But quick to clarify, she adds, 'I am talking about this industry. I don't think it applies to, say, finance or the media. They are more mature industries. Our industry is still in a fledgling state.'
On her commitment to work, and leisure
Ameera puts in around 10 hours a day at work. 'Of course this is besides the fact that from the time I get up in the morning to the time I sleep, I check my mail or talk on the phone. I may be available, but not necessarily working.'
As her father is not involved in the administrative side of things, Ameera generally travels alone on her business trips. While she wears Western formals to work, when she is visiting centres in smaller towns across India, Ameera prefers to wear a saree. 'When I travel to places like, say, Baroda, I wear sarees.
My staff there is already intimidated by the fact that I'm a woman, and if I wear a business suit, they will say "Yeh MBA-type aa gayi!"' Ameera plays tennis, loves sailing and hiking. 'I love the sun, the fresh air when I am sailing, I see the occasional movie. I need to spend at least an hour in the morning reading the newspapers. I read a lot of fiction (mostly thrillers) as well as non-fiction.'
Does Ameera follow a special diet to maintain her figure? 'I am trying to eat better. I have green tea the minute I come to the office. My assistant brings me my daily quota of nuts and dried fruits. Lunch too is healthy - a multigrain sandwich or fruits… For dinner, there's multigrain chapattis. 'Sometimes I do eat rubbish!' Ameera admits.
'I have a sweet tooth, and eat a minimum of two sweets or chocolates a day! But I am trying to moderate that,' she says. She believes in weighing herself every day. 'I feel the body self-regulates whenever there is a fluctuation. That is my motto on weight reduction.'
'When I joined his business, I was 21, I wasn't good at anything, and I didn't have any skills to speak of...'
A sterling lineage, and the importance of a family
She was brought up in a well-grounded environment. Her grandfather was a general physician and her parents are both doctors. 'But we were not rich - we never had an air-conditioner at home. My parents brought my elder sister (now a pathologist in Miami) and me up saying, "You have to be satisfied with the minimum".'
When Ameera went to the US to study, she didn't want her parents to pay. While they did pay for the first year, the next three years, she worked her way through, surviving on scholarships and on what she earned. Ameera has been financially independent since the age of 18. 'I don't know how far mothers would want their daughters to be like me!' she laughs.
'It can become a major obstacle where marriage is concerned!' Ameera's mother, Dr Duru Shah, is a gynaecologist and obstetrician. 'She wears many caps. She has a thriving practice (she runs a fertility clinic in Mumbai), heads medical organisations, has written many books, and does a lot of charity work. Though she has a very busy life, she has always been a good wife and mother. She works for almost 14 hours a day!' says Ameera.
On marriage, and finding the right balance
'People frequently tell me that I should get married, assuming that after marriage, I'll stop working. It does get irritating after a point. When I say my career is as important to me as any man's, they automatically assume that I am the type of woman for whom family life is just not important!' Does she ever get the impression that people tend to take her less seriously because of her good looks?
'It's funny you should ask that because a few days ago, I went out with some friends and a guy said, "Ameera, you are so beautiful! It is such a waste you are working!" They feel I should have caught a rich guy, married him, stayed at home and had babies! How can what I am doing be a "waste"? This is my baby - I have brought it up from one lab to 65 labs!' On future plans as far as matrimony is concerned, Ameera says, 'It's not any time soon.
But I think all aspects of life are equally important and it is just a matter of finding the right balance between a career and a family.' Ameera feels that the capacity to delegate work, whether it be on the home front or at the office, is necessary. 'It is when you strive for perfection - be it as a mother, housewife or career woman - that the problems arise. It is not possible. I am not a perfectionist. I still think a lot of areas in the business need my attention,' she says.
Her take on the quintessential Indian housewife
'I don't think a working woman is in any way better than a housewife. You give a housewife `2,000 and tell her to manage; she will figure out the needs of everyone in the family and spend accordingly. She is an entrepreneur in her own right.' Ameera feels it is unfortunate that many Indian women lack the confidence and the opportunity to prove themselves.
'Being a housewife is a tough job, more so as Indian men, by and large, are not exactly tolerant or forgiving. They are hard taskmasters, not very appreciative. It is difficult to put a financial value on the contribution of a housewife.' Ameera is frank about her own skills as a cook and a housekeeper: 'I live alone and manage my own house. I can cook but don't have a passion for it.
I have a maid who takes care of things when I am at work.' Her parents' house is not too far away and she joins them for Sunday lunch. Does it get lonely? 'Not really. I meet my friends, and travel a lot… so a little peace when I come home is a welcome change.'
Future plans for business, and the responsibilities...
She would like to see her company grow into a chain in the emerging markets, in India and abroad. 'Yes, the prospect is exciting, but a lot needs to be done. We try not to treat our business like a factory. We give each blood sample importance.
We realise that it can be a matter of life and death. Today, Metropolis is the leading lab across the country; we do a range of 4,500 variations of tests, where specialised skills and equipment are required. It's a huge responsibility.'
As told to Minakshi S Desai.
Arti Shah, a top distributor at Tupperware, has not let cancer affect her will to work...
Arti got married at an early age, and was two months pregnant when she went to collect her plus-two certificate from school. She continued as a homemaker. In 1999, her husband Kumar's sheet metal fabrication business took a downturn. 'People told us to cut down our expenses, stop spending on higher education for our two daughters.
Some even suggested I cook and sell tiffins to offices' It was heartbreaking to think that the tough times would blight her daughters' futures. Dhara was in high school, and Priyanka was in Class XII and wanted to do engineering. 'How could we think of taking them out of school? The only solution was to get in an alternate source of income. That is when my relationship with Tupperware began,' she says. Arti went on to do record sales in her business.
'From those days, I remember three names without whom our lives would be very different. Three names whose favours I don't want to return because I want to remember them with gratitude always. Usha Shah, my sister-in-law, who introduced me to the company; who lent me money when I had none to get my kit; and for constantly encouraging me.
Geetubhai Parekh, a sterling gentleman. He stood by us, gave me contacts to sell the products to, and money to settle the business. The company itself - it brought me money, friends, confidence and hope in my life. I could bring up my daughters the way I wanted to.'
The shock of discovery, and the pain of despair
Last year, when she was in Kochi on a business trip, the wall-to-wall mirror at the hotel reflected Arti's first frown of anxiety. She had just noticed a lump on her right breast. She called Kumar back in Aurangabad, 'I have noticed a lump. What if'
It was 25 January, 2011. 'I knew there was something wrong when my daughter, with the report in hand, instead to rushing to say all is well, went straight to the doctor. Those 10 minutes of waiting to know were terrible. And Kumar was not even in town that day. My mother and daughter were there with me in the consultation room, when the doctor confirmed I had cancer. We were three generations of Shah women. We cried.',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
