The Farm Perfection

Once upon a time, nestled deep in the heartland, existed a certain farm named ‘Farm Perfection’.

Unlike your run-of-the-mill barnyard fowl, this farm had a unique asset: a goose that had mastered the art of laying golden eggs, thanks to meticulous training from the farm’s owner to maximize its productivity. Soon dubbed the ‘Golden Goose’, it quickly became the envy and gossip of the entire animal congregation.

As the goose’s fame skyrocketed, so did the owner’s wealth, turning him from humble agriculturist to glittering entrepreneur. But with great riches came great possessiveness. Very well aware that other animals might harm it, the owner, driven by a mix of care and pride, encased the goose in a golden cage—a luxurious prison if there ever was one.

Here, the goose continued its high-output egg production with the focus and discipline of a seasoned CEO. Admirers from distant lands came not just to buy eggs but to catch a glimpse of the fabled goose.

The farm, formerly known simply as ‘Farm Perfection’, was now called the ‘Golden Goose Farm’.

Sensing a branding catastrophe in motion, the owner quickly erected a wall around the goose’s enclosure, sparing only a tiny window for food and a door to harvest the golden bounty.

Initially, the owner tended to the goose with the dedication of a helicopter parent and a micro-managing supervisor, feeding it multiple times a day and whispering sweet nothings about market expansion. But as time went on, and the owner’s ambitions swelled to franchise dreams, the door opened less frequently. From daily meals to weekly crumbs, the care dwindled until one day, the door shut for good, leaving only the window operational for egg collection.

In this new setup, the goose, now more a golden egg machine than a living creature, continued to produce.

But even golden geese have their limits. One morning, the window swung open to reveal a glaring absence: no egg.

The owner alarmed yet clueless, saw the goose’s weakened state and hastily delegated the feeding task to a farmhand of the canine variety.

However, envy runs deep in farmyard politics. While the goose honked, the jealous canine, seizing an opportunity, abused, harmed, and killed the golden goose, replacing it with an ordinary one – just for fun.

Alas, the next day still yielded no golden eggs.

The owner, blissfully unaware of the switcheroo, attributed the failure to the Golden Goose’s decline and decided it was time to capitalize on its remaining value. The goose was sold off as ‘fresh premium chicken’.

Moral of the story? No matter the sheen of your eggs, without genuine care and understanding, you’re just another chicken waiting for the chop. In the end, it’s not the golden eggs that matter, but the hand that feeds, or fails to feed, the goose.

If you are a goose, honk louder to save the farm’s reputation. And if you have a goose, listen when it honks; it’s often signaling something essential.

Professional Heartbreak?

Ever experienced professional heartbreak? I know someone who had a severe one last week, and the surprising thing is that they were aware it would happen – but they decided to jump in – and finally barge out of it.

They said that they are experiencing disappointment, loss, and feelings of disillusionment.

Basically, we live in a society that doesn’t believe in understanding or even accepting others’ emotions or thoughts in a professional setup, and sadly – even at a personal level! 

Be a human. Don’t be an emotionally-challenged ‘Bing’.

We don’t even ask people if everything is okay in day-to-day life, even when we are working with them every single day – even if one day they look stressed.

We don’t know what to say when someone loses their loved one or is undergoing something severe on a personal front. 

We expect consistency in their behavior even if they have experienced betrayal, denial, or dismissal – that too, from us!

We have no idea how to process uncomfortable conversations – we never trained ourselves for that! And we call this ‘professionalism’.

And then we wonder why people are making tiny mistakes. Why is someone not paying attention to details the way they previously did? Or why is someone not behaving or treating us the same way they used to?

I told them that, basically, someone’s consistent unwillingness to hear us out when we are hurt is not an indication that our hurt is invalid. It’s their deliberate and thoughtful choice.

While now you may have trained your heart and mind to accept disappointments from the people you trust more than yourselves, remember that patterns are louder than the occasional breadcrumbs.

We need to understand that sometimes, people don’t want to ‘win’ the argument or prove themselves ‘right’. That’s never the objective. They just want to feel like the person they are talking to has come to an understanding of the issue at hand and appreciates the conversation – and will ensure that things are better in the future. It’s a phase where both of them can talk and feel heard and understood. It’s not a competition – it never is.

If you want to make a difference in someone’s life, you don’t need to be powerful, rich, famous, intelligent, or perfect. You just need to care – especially for the ones who care for you.

Sit. Converse. Resolve. And speak out.

Heatwave

“Do you have a 2000 rupee change?” An employee of a business organization asked another.

“Yes, I might. Let me check”, she said.

“Of course, you women always have cash. Men, like us, have to deal with the finances of the household, pay the taxes, bills, healthcare, medicines, etc. How lucky can women get with all the savings!” he said.

“Really? That’s not funny. I am handling most of the expenses at my home”, she said, counting the currency notes from her wallet.

“Great, you have cash! So much money, still you want a salary raise and a promotion? You girls always have the option of finding a guy who earns more and getting settled. For guys, it’s never the other way around!” he asked, trying to break the ice, somewhat surprised.

“Huh? How is promotion at the workplace related to someone’s personal life and not to the skills and dedication? And why do you feel that daughters, wives, sisters, women don’t, can’t and shouldn’t contribute to their family expenses?”, she cross-questioned, organizing and assembling the currency notes in her hand.

“Oh, please. Once in a blue moon, the greatest contribution from your end could be a teeny-tiny juice box, chocolates, or a recharge. Do you consider Rs. 500 as contributing to the family financially?”, he chuckled, taking the notes from her, counting them once again after she had done so.

She smiled at him. “I pay the electricity bills for a three-floored house every month. I pay the taxes. I get the grocery for my entire family. I pay the bills for my parents’ medicines. I pay for all the luxury and comfort I can offer my family without asking for it. And, I ensure I save some. And oh, yes, a 500 rupee mobile recharge doesn’t count. My family is priceless. I could spend my life on them, and this is JUST money.”

“Nice. Thanks for the cash, though”, he walked away.

The conversation was friendly. But why is it hard for people to believe or work with or even know a financially independent woman doing well on her own and contributing to her family?

Lately, I came across several employees (both male and female) from different organizations who have resigned – for a substantial better opportunity – yes. Maybe for higher studies too. But also because of the sarcastic, parched work culture and mentality. Eight out of ten of these employees are women.

It’s like an encouragement drought and deficit amidst an uncalled cold war in an organization. It’s incredible, soothing greenery to the outside world. Still, the impact of an inner heatwave shedding its best employees is visible only when you pay attention, stay unbiased and focus. Like this image.

Click by me, this summer, during the heatwave.

What’s required for an organization to bloom and get rid of the heatwave? Thoughts?