Vagabond in ITVille - Organizational alchemy
Organizations are great places for story building. On a daily basis stories are told and untold, with great excitement or utter despair, depending on if a ‘strategic goal’ is met or not, consciously or otherwise. The corridors of great organizations are like drama theaters where people act out these stories. Being a hero or a villain is purely a matter of luck and depended on who the story teller of the day was.
And then there are the actors. Some of them understand the leitmotif of organizational dynamics and continue to enjoy the fun watching it from afar, even if they end up being a hero or villain in the story. While some more understand the leitmotif but continue to act as if them being heroes is the reason why the story would have a happy ending. And then there are few others who simply watch in awe the heroes, and in disdain the villains. The last category are pretty much the wannabe heroes who one day will graduate from last rows to ring side and finally on to the stage.
I am not a great storyteller myself but will make an attempt at it just so I can feel happy that I could see through the multiple abstractions of one of the many stories that I heard in organizations. It will be no fun to retell the story in the same way it has been told originally, so here is a metaphorical allegory.
Once upon a time there was a vagabond who roamed the streets of a great kingdom called ITVille. He was a respectable person but had no real ambitions in life. He wanted to survive and see to it that he passed his time well and without too many things to worry about. The town’s people’s attitude towards the vagabond was the same as it was towards any other thing in the town that only existed because there was no reason for it not to exist. The only people who ever noticed his existence were the ones who moved at speeds lower than quarter of a kilometer per hour, excluding those who were seated. The slow movers would whisper among themselves when they saw him, “Look, there goes the vagabond. No one even knows his real name!” A lot of things happened in ITVille but the vagabond was neither a cause nor a contributor to any of them, important or not. That suited the vagabond too as he was insignificant and consequently had a free mind.
Days passed and the vagabond passed them too. He was almost middle aged and had shades of gray in his locks. Some of the younger ones in ITVille, who were still green behind the ears, some times tried to sought the vagabond out and seek advice from him. But the vagabond had none to give. He simply was amazed that those young ones actually wanted some advice. “Why are they bothering? What good is any advice? The time will pass irrespective of what they do and so shall they”. He never understood why they wanted to burden their minds with things that’ll only lead, alternately, to prolonged heart burn or instant gratification. But he enjoyed meeting some of the younger folk. He enjoyed their company as they were just on the borders of the free mind zone, yearning to move into the confused complexities of the “I want to change the world” mind zone. Over a period the younger folk would realiz that there was not much to be gleaned from the vagabond. He was after all, a vagabond, they'd realize or were told. So, they increased the speed of their movement to more than quarter of a kilometer an hour.
The vagabond felt unusual one day. Are there not any more people like him in ITVille, he thought? He was missing the new found company of the younger lot. He did not really understand why they were coming to him but somehow found it demeaning that they were not coming to him any more. The vagabond decided to sit under a tree and meditate. “The whole world is passing by me and I don’t feel like I am absorbing any of it”, he said to himself. He felt that despite being part of the kingdom for so many years, he did not really understand what goes on in the kingdom and why. As he sat under the tree to contemplate his life thus, he was hit on the head by a curiously shaped branch of tree. The branch was circular in shape and looked like a necklace made of wood. It hit his head and slowly slid onto his neck. He had no role to play even in that process. It all happened without his intervention or will. He opened his eyes just a bit and looked at the wooden necklace. “Curse my luck”, he said to himself. If it were a log of wood at least he could have been ridden of the mundane matters of ITVille once for all. If it were a necklace made of gold, he could be rich and famous. “What value is a wooden necklace? I don’t even think it will be useful as firewood”. He was also upset with the fact that he had no role to play in that wooden necklace ending up where it did. “Why should I even care? It could have at least waited till I pulled it down on to my neck. But no! It just comes and sits on my neck as if I do not matter!”. So he thought and just ignored the wooden necklace and let it hang around his neck as a punishment.
The tree under which vagabond was contemplating was quite big. It spread about and had some colorful leaves and flowers and also some tasty fruit. Passers by, those who walked at speeds ranging from less than quarter of a kilometer an hour to more than 4 kilometers an hour, usually watched the tree for more than a little while because it was strikingly big and also colorful. Some of those (you know their walking speed by now) also happened to watch the vagabond meditating under the tree, wooden necklace and all. They were amused but not really surprised by that sight. “After all what else can Vagabond get that is more valuable than wooden necklace”, they thought. The only thing they found different was the vagabond’s posture. “Is he meditating? What is he focusing on and why?” they said among themselves but moved on nevertheless. They knew nothing could happen in ITVille because of him and found it useless to go and enquire with him about his present condition.
As night fell, the vagabond felt tired and was ready to sleep. He looked around and found some of the tasty fruit that fell from the tree. He ate the fruit and decided to make bed right under the tree. He cleaned the ground a little bit and then slept on his back. As he did so, the wooden necklace hit the ground first and broke under the weight of vagabond’s head. It fell off of the vagabond’s neck, once again without his intervention. The vagabond felt happy that it met the right end. Those who come uninvited will go uncared for, he thought. He slept off.
It was a night for action elsewhere though. A thief, who stole gold valuables from ITVille’s palace, was on the run. He was not sure if some one was chasing him or he was running because that was the plan. He ran all the same and quickly climbed on to the big tree under which the Vagabond was sleeping. The thief felt safe there and was happy he is executing most of the plan right. He opened the bag containing the loot and under the moon light started examining the valuables. As he did so, one of the gold necklaces fell out of the bag and landed straight in the neck of the vagabond who was sleeping under the tree. The vagabond did not move and continued to sleep. The thief did not notice the necklace falling and after a while, he got down from the tree and went home. He was extremely satisfied that he has reached new levels of professionalism. “How many people execute plans so well?” he thought and walked away.
Next morning, the vagabond woke up early. He did not feel like going anywhere from where he was. He was well rested and found the tree to be a nice place to relax. He went back to his meditating posture and did not even notice the new ornament on his neck. The gold necklace though was of exquisite beauty and shined greatly. Later in the day when people started walking about at their designated speeds, they started to pass by the tree and for a change noticed the vagabond more than the tree. People of all speeds were noticing him or his necklace. Some of less speed ones were commenting about the necklace that was wooden the day before and how the vagabond seemed to have been focusing on something, which was quite unusual. One of them yelled suddenly, “He is an Alchemist. He can convert wood into gold!” The word spread quickly. People from all walks and speeds of life came about to see the miraculous abilities of the vagabond. They started inquiring each other about this seemingly great man. “What’s his name?” some were curious. Some one who wanted to feel important answered without thinking twice. “He is Mr. Bond. Vaga Bond”. “What does Vaga mean?” some more curiosity. It means ‘purity’ some one had a ready answer. All through this, the vagabond remained shocked and silent. He did not understand what was going on, as usual.
Things happened in a hurry after that. ITVille’s leadership quickly recognized that Mr. Vaga Bond’s capabilities are something that the town cannot survive without. They immediately created a new role for Mr. Bond in the town’s parliament and assigned him the due respect and salary. The man himself had no clue how a wooden necklace got converted into a gold necklace but was happily playing along. He never felt instant gratification in the past so he did not realize what he was going through and was thoroughly enjoying it. He was given the rights to the big tree under which he now had his office where he operated from. People spread rumors that Alchemists lose their powers after they do one act of Alchemy and will need at least couple of years to repeat the same. No one cared, the town had a new hero and everyone celebrated his achievements.
Now everyone stops by the vagabond’s office. They wish him and introduce themselves. He smiles knowingly, proffers the hand and says, “The name is Bond. Vaga Bond”.
And then there are the actors. Some of them understand the leitmotif of organizational dynamics and continue to enjoy the fun watching it from afar, even if they end up being a hero or villain in the story. While some more understand the leitmotif but continue to act as if them being heroes is the reason why the story would have a happy ending. And then there are few others who simply watch in awe the heroes, and in disdain the villains. The last category are pretty much the wannabe heroes who one day will graduate from last rows to ring side and finally on to the stage.
I am not a great storyteller myself but will make an attempt at it just so I can feel happy that I could see through the multiple abstractions of one of the many stories that I heard in organizations. It will be no fun to retell the story in the same way it has been told originally, so here is a metaphorical allegory.
Once upon a time there was a vagabond who roamed the streets of a great kingdom called ITVille. He was a respectable person but had no real ambitions in life. He wanted to survive and see to it that he passed his time well and without too many things to worry about. The town’s people’s attitude towards the vagabond was the same as it was towards any other thing in the town that only existed because there was no reason for it not to exist. The only people who ever noticed his existence were the ones who moved at speeds lower than quarter of a kilometer per hour, excluding those who were seated. The slow movers would whisper among themselves when they saw him, “Look, there goes the vagabond. No one even knows his real name!” A lot of things happened in ITVille but the vagabond was neither a cause nor a contributor to any of them, important or not. That suited the vagabond too as he was insignificant and consequently had a free mind.
Days passed and the vagabond passed them too. He was almost middle aged and had shades of gray in his locks. Some of the younger ones in ITVille, who were still green behind the ears, some times tried to sought the vagabond out and seek advice from him. But the vagabond had none to give. He simply was amazed that those young ones actually wanted some advice. “Why are they bothering? What good is any advice? The time will pass irrespective of what they do and so shall they”. He never understood why they wanted to burden their minds with things that’ll only lead, alternately, to prolonged heart burn or instant gratification. But he enjoyed meeting some of the younger folk. He enjoyed their company as they were just on the borders of the free mind zone, yearning to move into the confused complexities of the “I want to change the world” mind zone. Over a period the younger folk would realiz that there was not much to be gleaned from the vagabond. He was after all, a vagabond, they'd realize or were told. So, they increased the speed of their movement to more than quarter of a kilometer an hour.
The vagabond felt unusual one day. Are there not any more people like him in ITVille, he thought? He was missing the new found company of the younger lot. He did not really understand why they were coming to him but somehow found it demeaning that they were not coming to him any more. The vagabond decided to sit under a tree and meditate. “The whole world is passing by me and I don’t feel like I am absorbing any of it”, he said to himself. He felt that despite being part of the kingdom for so many years, he did not really understand what goes on in the kingdom and why. As he sat under the tree to contemplate his life thus, he was hit on the head by a curiously shaped branch of tree. The branch was circular in shape and looked like a necklace made of wood. It hit his head and slowly slid onto his neck. He had no role to play even in that process. It all happened without his intervention or will. He opened his eyes just a bit and looked at the wooden necklace. “Curse my luck”, he said to himself. If it were a log of wood at least he could have been ridden of the mundane matters of ITVille once for all. If it were a necklace made of gold, he could be rich and famous. “What value is a wooden necklace? I don’t even think it will be useful as firewood”. He was also upset with the fact that he had no role to play in that wooden necklace ending up where it did. “Why should I even care? It could have at least waited till I pulled it down on to my neck. But no! It just comes and sits on my neck as if I do not matter!”. So he thought and just ignored the wooden necklace and let it hang around his neck as a punishment.
The tree under which vagabond was contemplating was quite big. It spread about and had some colorful leaves and flowers and also some tasty fruit. Passers by, those who walked at speeds ranging from less than quarter of a kilometer an hour to more than 4 kilometers an hour, usually watched the tree for more than a little while because it was strikingly big and also colorful. Some of those (you know their walking speed by now) also happened to watch the vagabond meditating under the tree, wooden necklace and all. They were amused but not really surprised by that sight. “After all what else can Vagabond get that is more valuable than wooden necklace”, they thought. The only thing they found different was the vagabond’s posture. “Is he meditating? What is he focusing on and why?” they said among themselves but moved on nevertheless. They knew nothing could happen in ITVille because of him and found it useless to go and enquire with him about his present condition.
As night fell, the vagabond felt tired and was ready to sleep. He looked around and found some of the tasty fruit that fell from the tree. He ate the fruit and decided to make bed right under the tree. He cleaned the ground a little bit and then slept on his back. As he did so, the wooden necklace hit the ground first and broke under the weight of vagabond’s head. It fell off of the vagabond’s neck, once again without his intervention. The vagabond felt happy that it met the right end. Those who come uninvited will go uncared for, he thought. He slept off.
It was a night for action elsewhere though. A thief, who stole gold valuables from ITVille’s palace, was on the run. He was not sure if some one was chasing him or he was running because that was the plan. He ran all the same and quickly climbed on to the big tree under which the Vagabond was sleeping. The thief felt safe there and was happy he is executing most of the plan right. He opened the bag containing the loot and under the moon light started examining the valuables. As he did so, one of the gold necklaces fell out of the bag and landed straight in the neck of the vagabond who was sleeping under the tree. The vagabond did not move and continued to sleep. The thief did not notice the necklace falling and after a while, he got down from the tree and went home. He was extremely satisfied that he has reached new levels of professionalism. “How many people execute plans so well?” he thought and walked away.
Next morning, the vagabond woke up early. He did not feel like going anywhere from where he was. He was well rested and found the tree to be a nice place to relax. He went back to his meditating posture and did not even notice the new ornament on his neck. The gold necklace though was of exquisite beauty and shined greatly. Later in the day when people started walking about at their designated speeds, they started to pass by the tree and for a change noticed the vagabond more than the tree. People of all speeds were noticing him or his necklace. Some of less speed ones were commenting about the necklace that was wooden the day before and how the vagabond seemed to have been focusing on something, which was quite unusual. One of them yelled suddenly, “He is an Alchemist. He can convert wood into gold!” The word spread quickly. People from all walks and speeds of life came about to see the miraculous abilities of the vagabond. They started inquiring each other about this seemingly great man. “What’s his name?” some were curious. Some one who wanted to feel important answered without thinking twice. “He is Mr. Bond. Vaga Bond”. “What does Vaga mean?” some more curiosity. It means ‘purity’ some one had a ready answer. All through this, the vagabond remained shocked and silent. He did not understand what was going on, as usual.
Things happened in a hurry after that. ITVille’s leadership quickly recognized that Mr. Vaga Bond’s capabilities are something that the town cannot survive without. They immediately created a new role for Mr. Bond in the town’s parliament and assigned him the due respect and salary. The man himself had no clue how a wooden necklace got converted into a gold necklace but was happily playing along. He never felt instant gratification in the past so he did not realize what he was going through and was thoroughly enjoying it. He was given the rights to the big tree under which he now had his office where he operated from. People spread rumors that Alchemists lose their powers after they do one act of Alchemy and will need at least couple of years to repeat the same. No one cared, the town had a new hero and everyone celebrated his achievements.
Now everyone stops by the vagabond’s office. They wish him and introduce themselves. He smiles knowingly, proffers the hand and says, “The name is Bond. Vaga Bond”.
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