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This is a story of advice and friendship.

We have been good friends with a couple, for many years. About four years ago, the husband called me and asked if he could talk over an issue that he was going through, to get a second opinion, another point of view. I agreed readily, since I liked him very much.

Vibhu, as I shall call him, is a suave chap, very prim and proper, educated in an olde world British school. After an MBA, he built a career in a large organisation in the sales function. I will mention here that the industry he was working in, is Mumbai-centric – most companies have their Head Offices there and branches in the large metros. Well, Vibhu’s performance at work was excellent and he rose to a level which was about the peak for the organisation’s office in Bangalore – if he needed to climb the ladder any more, he’d have to move to Mumbai, something that no self-respecting Bangalorean will consider, if he has his senses about him. Shortly after his promotion in this company, he quit and joined a competitor at a slightly higher level, reporting to the Branch Head. The salary and responsibilities were higher, though there would still be the inevitable Mumbai-move sometime in the future.

It was a bad decision. Vibhu’s gut (and a couple of colleagues) had warned him against the culture of the competitor, one that encouraged snake-oil salesmen and rewarded short term thinking. To top his discomfort, he had a particularly bad boss, who was as insecure as he was rude and who often alluded to Vibhu’s previous organisation with derision, something that got him particularly incensed.

As we sat down to talk, beer in hand, Vibhu told me that he wanted to quit this company immediately. He had no idea of what he wished to do, yet the stress of working here was taking his toll. His boss in the earlier organisation, on knowing of his discomfort, had sent feelers to him, asking him to come back to the same job he had held earlier, yet……..

“Why don’t you go back?” I asked.

The answer was long-winded. I sensed that he had set high standards of growth for himself and this would reek of failure. He was, in addition, concerned about how others in the old organisation would see him. This was where I had a point or two. “Vibhu, I have done just this. I left CDC in the late ‘90s to join a software product company as a domain specialist, realised that it wasn’t what I wanted and approached my boss in CDC within a month, before he had recruited a replacement. I felt the same way as you do now, but for a few days. My colleagues went out of their way to welcome me back. Don’t worry – our fears are in our heads.” I concluded.

“What about my growth?” he queried.

There was little to offer here, of course. He could choose to continue in the new organisation (“No, no, not a chance”), join his old organisation back (“Not sure of this, Gopa”) or just sit at home and hope for a job (which was most unlikely to come by).

“Here’s what I suggest, Vibhu,” I added, “There are often times when you have to go back to move forward. Go back to your old organisation, bide your time and look to change the industry you work in, moving to one where senior management positions exist in Bangalore.” I went back to my story. “Vibhu, quitting a job at this stage of your career without a Plan B, is not advised. I can tell you with confidence that, if you left a company with mutual goodwill, they’d be happy to have you back. Besides, your old Boss has sent the feeler first, hasn’t he? But don’t stay at home, its very depressing to be doing nothing.” Perhaps, in retrospect, I was being forceful, when I should have been gentle.

As the conversation progressed, he became quieter. We left after a couple of hours, some beer time included, and shook hands, while I wished him the best for the future.

It can’t be hard for you to guess the decision he took. He quit the new organisation, did not join the old one and, instead, spent a couple of exacting years at home, till a new, average job came his way. The impact on our friendship was rather hard as well; Vibhu stayed away, though his wife kept in touch with us. I have only once met him since that meeting and that was on a sidewalk. He has aged a decade, with his hair now vastly peppered, a cigarette in hand and some excess weight and when I reflect on the person I knew earlier it is cause for some despondency. It has made me wonder on the human tendency to self-destruct and, as you can see, how people see themselves has a big role to play in this process of emaciation.

I trust I learnt some lessons here, the prime among them being to not get passionate about solving other people’s problems.