Perils of Homecoming

Yesterday, I was reflecting that the road that takes people away from their hometowns and countries in search of better career opportunities is a one-way path that seldom returns home, and even if it does, it’s not usually a happy homecoming.


A distant uncle of mine who spent a considerable time in the US, initially as a student and then worker, had a tough time when he returned to India.

For a decade or so, he hopped from one job to another and then gave up on jobs and started his business which didn’t work either. Unable to adjust with professional disappointments, he became bitterly dismissive of India and everything Indian. Few years back, he returned to the US for good.

A friend, who had gone to Mumbai for jobs after his MBA, said the other day that he dropped his plan to return to Calcutta (his hometown) last year as his search for jobs in Calcutta turned futile with either unsatisfactory roles or salaries way lower than his current pay being offered to him.

But generally people want to return home even if it means a compromise in salary and position. What they remain cynical about, however, is whether they would be able to adjust to another work culture, especially one where the job market is not very good. Job markets shape workers’ attitudes towards their work and coworkers. You find politics and groupism everywhere, but they are more active in ailing economies where there are fewer jobs to around. An acquaintance who had a decent job in Kerela (a not so good job market and Leftist bastion) left it suddenly one day fed up of office politics.

Companies, in weaker markets, are also slow in taking decisions. Two months ago, I went through a selection process for a Calcutta position and cleared it. They said they would roll out the offer in a week or two but kept delaying it under some pretext or the other. Finally, I was dropped – and I still don’t know why. (I have written a mail to their HR detailing the experience I was put through, and will publish it in this blog after sometime.)

Partly, people migrating from advanced economies are also to blame - they suffer from a superiority complex which makes them reluctant to adjust. My US uncle’s pet complaint through his years in India was, “Everything is wrong with this country.” Nowadays, I find myself feeling guilty of taking similar gloomy views of everything about Calcutta. My friends snub me for doing so and immediately leap to the defense of the city.

Calcutta was among the strongest economies in the country until it started sliding back with the coming of Leftists to power in 1977 (a year after I was born). People, however, are expecting it to change in a year or two with assembly elections couple of months away and a non-Left party expected to dislodge the Leftist government that’s responsible for this economic stalemate. Bengalis staying outside Bengal and wanting to return home have their eyes set on this election.

So will a political change, if that’s followed by economic betterment, bring about change in work culture in Calcutta? I am keeping my fingers crossed.

Career? What Career?

Today an old friend/colleague called up to say he has got a job in Calcutta, his hometown, which would pay him more than what he is making right now. (I was happy as well as surprised because Calcutta doen't have a great job market.)


Meanwhile, his current employers are trying to delicately dissuade him from leaving them. Even after he resigned, they put him on a career training programme which will cost the company a tidy sum. They have also promised to move him to their Calcutta branch.

Whether he should stay or go has left my friend a little indecisive. He has worked in his current company for almost four years, done well and been promoted. He is comfortable with his job and can continue for couple of years more and probably grow without too many challenges. But this comfortable environment mayn’t offer him much to learn.

Although the next company is smaller than his current one, the role would include some amount of learning. The role has some technical elements (my friend is a generalist) which the company would train him in. He would also get a few thousands more.

So should my friend stay or leave?

My friend’s problem is a typical mid-career problem where we struggle to balance mainly three concerns– money, career and skills. I am no management guru; still my thoughts may be worth reading.

The current company will help him have a comfortable job with a decent salary and some growth prospects. But his skills as a worker will remain the same. And few years on, with little bit of growth both in salary and position, he will either find himself in a project management or people management role. By the time he reaches there, he would be in his mid to late thirties with an over-bloated IT salary, minimal options outside his company and good 20 years of work life left before him.

But some would argue there is nothing wrong with this situation. It will make his career stable and he can also grow slowly. This simplistic approach misses more than it catches.

People who have stayed in companies for very long know staying doesn’t necessarily mean growing. Most stagnate, some grow, only to eventually stagnate. By the time they stagnate, their bloated salaries and high position minimize the availability of employment options in the market.
But, if a company is looking to cut cost, won’t old employees be at a lesser risk of job loss than the newer ones? How people in high-cost geographies lost jobs during recession, some of whom even after spending long years with their employers, blows this conventional theory to bits.

The reason why people like to spend long time in companies is that they place more importance on career than skills. What they forget is we don’t work for a vague indefinable thing like career but to meet immediate needs, ensure material prosperity and security. Of course, concern for career remains but it occupies a secondary position.

When you consider a new offer, first you look at two things: how the additional ten thousand (your increased salary will bring) will help you pay your car EMIs and whether you would be able to play the role comfortably. And then you look at how big the company is.

Your salary will help you meet your needs and your ability to perform your role will help you sustain the salary. The size of your company, on the other hand, will give you long-term stability which will help your career. But if the new role hadn’t fetched additional ten thousand or if you hadn’t been very confident of whether you would be able to perform the role, would you still join the company because of its size? No.

So skills are more important. They help you survive not just in one company but in any company. Regard for skills is where comes the willingness to acquire new skills and that keeps you mentally agile helping you to respond to varied situations and challenges either through use of existing skills or by acquiring new ones. And if you have the wit to survive, you will also find a way to grow.

Spending long time in companies has a merit, too. It exposes you to various challenges and it's by overcoming them that you can stay. So it's not necessary that if you stay in a  company for long, you don't learn. But you have to constatly remind yourself that just because  you have a comfortable job today, it doesn't mean tomorrow you will not need  to look for another one. And keep yourself ready for that.

A job that helps you get another job is a good job.

A Belated Post

After a long and futile job search in Calcutta, when I planned to go to Mumbai to resume my job hunt, my father asked me to once try my luck in Delhi.

The choice of Delhi was based more on our familiarity with the place, as we had spent a few years in the city some years back, than any analysis of its job market.

And that my father has many friends in Delhi made the capital city all the more preferable to Mumbai.

After some deliberation, I agreed to go to Delhi, although I was more interested in the city of films, slums and local trains, Mumbai.

My father telephoned Pande uncle, one of his closest friends in Delhi, and uncle readily invited to stay at his place in Karol Bagh, Delhi.

Delhi and Punde uncle conjured up childhood memories for me.

Those days Pande uncle used to stay in Golmarket, roughly 10 minutes’ walk from where we resided.

Uncle’s family wasn’t without its woes: his wife had poor eyesight, for which she had undergone a few operations without much success. Puja, uncle’s eldest daughter, would look after the kitchen balancing it perfectly with her studies. Puja was a bright student.

Uncle also had a younger son.

After staying for four years in Delhi, my father was transferred, and we returned to our home town, Calcutta.

Following our return to Calcutta, I didn’t hear much of Punde uncle and his family, or maybe didn’t pay much attention, although my father kept in touch with uncle through phone calls and letters.

The last I heard of uncle’s wife, Pande Anty (as I called her), was that her vision had deteriorated further, further restricting her activities.

For my job hunt, I decided to stay for seven days in Delhi. My father asked me to stay at uncle’s place for half the duration and move to a hotel for rest of the time.

My train reached the capital city on a wintry morning of December. The thick fog, the Punjabized Hindi, the chilling cold together greeted me to the city I had left almost fourteen years ago.

By the time I reached uncle’s home it was afternoon, and the warmth of the sun had somewhat tamed the unrelenting cold.

As Puja, uncle’s daughter, ushered me into the home, I found Pande Anty sitting in a chair. “Train me kui taktliv to nei hui,” Anty gushed with excitement and warmth. I suspected the genuineness of the warmth but the suspicion was short lived.

She enquired about my parents and said they should visit Delhi once.

Meanwhile, I set down my luggage in a corner following the instructions of Anty. She seemed familiar with every nook and cranny of the house despite her visual impairment.

After freshening up, when I sank into the sofa opposite her, she embarked on a variety of topics ranging from the climate of Delhi to its people and changing trends.

She was curiously informed about the world she could hardly see!

I had spoken to Anty in bits and pieces as a kid but this time our conversation was by far the longest.

Puja was training to be a teacher and the little boy had grown into an eighteen-year old teenager who would soon be back from college.

I luckily got a job offer on my second day in Delhi and spent the rest of the time visiting the places I was familiar with as a kid.

The locality I had stayed in – Golmarket – had considerably changed and so had many other things.

Finally, it was time to return to Calcutta; I would meet my parents and come back to Delhi to join my job.

I spent around two years in Delhi and moved to Bangalore to join a new company. All the while in Delhi I was in touch with uncle’s family but, while in Bangalore, eager to get on with a new city and priorities, I lost touch with Pande uncle and his family again although my mother filled me in on them from time to time.

But for Pande Anty’s deteriorating health and eyesight, they were generally doing well as a family.


Early last year, as we were preparing to take on the challenges of a new year, I was told that Anty passed away of a heart attack.

PS: I had written this last year, a few days after Aunty passed away. I had left the piece incomplete; today I thought to complete the piece and post it.