Are you the big boss who reaches out to a team member in distress or ill health?
Not just those who are in your inner circle or directly report to you, but two or three levels below or more.
As the top boss, this could be the most impactful action on your part in terms of employee engagement.
In a large organisation, it may not be possible to do so in every case. But even if you apply in some cases, you stand to strike a chord with them forever. For instance, they could be top performers, rising stars, or thorough professionals who are completely invested in their roles.
You Should Read This:
If you are a founder/MD/CEO, or if you are getting there or aspire to get there. Or if you are the Head of a Department or even a team lead.
While leaders at all levels should practice this; the higher your level, the more impactful it gets.
My experience from Y2K will show you how.
But before that, here’s a disclosure: the story is long and personal, there is a backstory to the story, and you need to read it fully to understand the context and consequences.
The Backstory
I was a junior producer, among many others.
Shyatto Raha, who then produced one of NDTV’s flagship shows, proceeded on his honeymoon leave. He handed over the charge of the show to me for a month. In addition to my other duties, I would be stepping in for him for four weeks while he was away.
The show produced by NDTV for BBC World was shot in a hired studio, and its format required a large audience and therefore necessitated a big studio floor.
While setting up the shoot, the Manager of the Studio casually mentioned to me that the studio was unavailable three weeks later. He said he had shared this with the Producer, but somehow, this information had not reached me.
There were very few studios of that size in the National Capital Region (NCR). I contacted the office of another adjacent studio with a large floor, but that was booked. Ditto for the third and the only other studio of that size.
I was in a quandary and had to fix it – soon.
The Story Begins Here
For the next two weeks, I’d head to scout for large physical spaces available for hire before my shift began, or after it ended. Some were not as comfortable or too far out for the guests invited to the show.
The daily juggling between my shift at the office and the recce in search of an appropriate location took a toll on my body. I skipped meals or ate much too late. The anxiety of securing an appropriate location for the shoot stressed me out. I suffered from an acute attack of acidity that led to an ulcer (which I didn’t know until a few weeks later).
I knew I had to consult a doctor, but first, I had to complete my tenure as a stand-in producer successfully.
Two weeks after I had begun my search, I secured an auditorium that ticked most boxes, though it was not ideal.
On the day of the recording, Habib Faisal, the lighting director assigned for that episode (now a Bollywood director), noticed something I had not paid attention to. I had lost weight, but my belly was enlarged.
He suggested I consult our company doctor – Dr Nazli Siddiqi. The director of the show (during that period), Anasuya, insisted I do so right away.
I phoned Dr Nazli and shared my symptoms. She recommended a gastroenterologist to consult at the earliest and kindly offered to secure an appointment. I requested that she fix a date after my show was done and dusted.
On the appointed day, I set out to meet Dr (Col) Arun Kumar, a former Army doctor, engaged with a private hospital. He heard me out before asking me to lie on a cot in his chamber. He knocked a few times on my belly and seemed to have nailed the issue. But he chose not to break it to me until he completed an ultrasound and endoscopy and extracted a tissue to be sent for examination.
“Young man, you have tuberculosis in the abdomen,” he said, breaking the news to me.
My heart sank.
I was due to leave for a brief holiday to Goa the same weekend. It was a trip I had been looking forward to eagerly and enthusiastically.
“Can I make it to Goa this weekend?” I asked, hoping against hope that he would say yes.
“If you can find home-cooked, boiled food and water, manage enough rest and take all your medicines on time, you may consider going,” he said with a smile.
“No one goes to Goa to do all that,” I said.
The doctor gathered that I was in denial, and it was time to put the record straight.
“Young man, you will have many opportunities to go there in the future. But right now, you have to fight this disease to live. You need medicines over a period of nine months before you can hope to recover.”
I felt as if a truck had hit me.
“But how can I get it,” I demanded to know – still in shock and disbelief.
“1 in 2 Indians are infected with TB bacteria, but most have latent TB inside their body; it is only when their immunity falls below a threshold that the disease hits them,” explained Dr Kumar.
It was only then that I began to comprehend how serious it was.
He called up Dr Nazli and reported my condition, and a few hours later, I found her beside my bed in the hospital. Dr Nazli Siddiqui is a warm and endearing doctor. She had carried a book, A Passage to India, and read an extract to calm me.
At that moment, I was in no condition to absorb what she read, but I tried. I knew she wanted to divert my attention to put me at ease. It didn’t work.
Dr Nazli put the book on the bedside table and enquired about the sequence of events leading up to my condition, which I narrated lifelessly.
Before she left, she wished me a quick recovery though she knew the journey was long and hard.
Later, she reported my illness (and I suspect the events leading to it) to Radhika Roy – NDTV’s Co-founder and its Managing Director then.
Mrs Roy (that’s how I address her) called me the day I reached home after being discharged from the hospital and spent the next 40 minutes checking every detail of how I was taking care of myself.
She had heard that I lived alone, and that worried her.
I told her my parents were expected the following day and would take me back home as soon as the doctor declared me fit to travel.
She offered every single help, including:
- assigning a rider outside my home for any emergency needs
- having my parents picked up from the airport and securing accommodation for them
- offering home-cooked food to be delivered to my doorstep.
I thanked her for her concern and politely turned down her generous offer. Before she hung up, she made me promise that I would reach out to her for any and every assistance needed. She banned me from entering the office till I was fully fit, no matter how long it took.
After the call ended, I still couldn’t believe she had called.
Here’s why:
- I was not a high-ranking official in the company. I was a junior producer entrusted with a key assignment for four weeks.
- She was the boss of my boss’s boss. That made her my super-duper boss (I know there’s no such term)
- Before this call, there was barely any interaction between us except greeting each other when our paths crossed.
- She did not need to spend almost an hour of her busy schedule checking on me. She could have just asked Dr Nazli to keep her posted if anything needed her attention.
But she went much beyond that. Because she cared.
I still get goosebumps when I recall that call. Her call came out of the blue. But it was not just the call.
It was her tone and tenor that overwhelmed me. She cared as a family member would. I could make out she was worried and wanted to help in every way she could.
Her call and her concern meant much to me. The rest (what she offered to do), I had figured out.
In a nearly three-decade-long career, Radhika Roy’s call stands out for me, among other highlights. From her, I learnt how to care as the big boss and how much difference it can make for the receiver. There are very few who do what she did. Her call was a healing touch that helped soothe my nerves and touched my heart in a manner I have rarely experienced.
Why (as the Big Boss) Should You Care
In every workplace, there are individuals who go through all kinds of personal crises. A few may have put duty before self, which could have led to or aggravated the crisis. Reach out to them.
A gesture – big or small – at this stage on the part of the big boss is likely to remain forever etched in the heart and mind of the recipient.
Notice how the story goes back 23 years and is still rooted in the heart and mind of this writer. There are three things that make it special:
- It was unexpected.
- It came from the big/top boss.
- And most importantly, it came from the heart.
If you – as the big boss or as a boss at any level – are unsure how to respond in such situations, just put yourself in the shoes of the team member in distress, and you will know what to do.
It’s really that simple.
You can thank me later 😊
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