Tribute To The Front-Line
"People don’t want hot tubs. They don’t want free snacks or pingpong tables. What they really want is freedom and responsibility. They want to be loosely held but tightly aligned"
Have you seen the recent Vaseline advert from HUL? A lovely ode to frontline workers in every field, who kept us going during the most troubling times of our lives. Whether the healthcare worker tirelessly serving the sick or the soldier guarding our borders against any unfriendly aggression or the frontline salesperson supplying essentials to the consumer and keeping the economic engine up and about. HUL touches the right note by paying a befitting tribute to the nation’s frontline. Whatever it does to Vaseline sales is anybody’s guess and I wish them good luck!
A few weeks back I saw an intriguing picture in an English tabloid. A morning scene of a heavy Calcutta downpour; a man rides a squeaky bicycle, wearing a bright orange raincoat and a mask to cover his face; three 40-litre milk cans hung precariously by his sides; a score of stationary yellow taxis parked on the side, won’t move an inch; only a couple of two wheelers with headlights on to thwart poor visibility and just one city bus moving alongside this orange-raincoat milkman. Far from the normal din and bustle of a busy Calcutta street for that time of the day. The city has come to a standstill. For one, the early arrival of monsoon and the other that has made the world stop going round; COVID-19. But this man on his cycle moves on. He is on his way to supply milk to sweetshops that will in turn feed the citizens of the ‘city of joy’, its daily dose of ‘rosogolla’. Rosogolla, as you would know, is Calcutta’s most essential consumer staple and not something that can wait for another day.
The picture stayed with me. It must have been a routine job for decades for the man in an orange raincoat, to wake up early in the morning, hang cans of milk on the sides of his bicycle and set-off for the last mile delivery, negotiating normal adversities of life. But this time the adversity is much bigger. It is not his old, rickety bicycle; not the potholes nor the traffic on the roads; not the pollution or his meagre means; it is something that has brought the world to a stop. But not him. You can’t stop the unstoppable frontline.
"The frontline workers have gone far and beyond their call of duty to support the country during these troubling times"
During this crisis consequent to a very brutal lockdown, it is the frontline that has kept us going. Would you be upset if you don’t get your pouch of milk at your doorstep by 7 in the morning? Would you be disappointed if you don’t find your favourite cup of curd or buttermilk at the nearest store? Yes, you would be and you are justified. Also, you need your oodles of cheese on your home-delivered pizza, infants and seniors need their supplements, you need cookies and chocolates (made of milk ingredients) to lift your mood and all that you can’t do without. How do you get all of these at the comfort of your home, delivered right where you are conferencing with the rest of the world, on Zoom or MS Teams? There is an ebullient frontline working for you. The farmer is out in the field milking the cows; the milk collection teams are at work bringing milk to the factories from lakhs of village collection centres; factory workers are tirelessly producing what you need; the sales and delivery systems are moving seamlessly to reach your favourite items to you. All of this, when a virus has threatened the daylight out of our lives.
What does it take to get some people to brave all odds and be of use to the rest of the world and be happy doing it? What are the factors that really drive the satisfaction of those relentless frontline workers? The answer is surprisingly simple.
Several years back, I was employed with one of India’s leading multi-industry conglomerates. My office was in the middle of few dozens of beautifully landscaped acres, a knowledge city near Mumbai named after the group patriarch. The campus boasted of every good thing money could buy walking paths, a theatre, a full restaurant, a health club, basketball courts, fitness studios and an Olympic-size pool. As be-fits a company where nothing is too good for its employees, there was a hot tub too. But even a Jacuzzi wasn’t enough to ensure that everyone was happy. People were often found complaining behind the backs of the top bosses. What is it that was wanting?
People want to be treated like adults. They want to have a mission they believe in, a problem to solve and space to solve it. They want to be surrounded by other adults whose abilities they respect. People don’t want hot tubs. They don’t want free snacks or pingpong tables. What they really want is freedom and responsibility. They want to be loosely held but tightly aligned.
This is what happened with the sales officers, the milk procurement associates, the truckers, the factory workers, the delivery executives, the distributors, the retailers and all the front-line workers. They were driven by a mission to achieve, a problem to solve and a world to sup-port.
The hands that take care of others, need to be taken care of. Those who risk it all for others, in times of strife; those who put their all in the line for the country; those who get busy weaving a safer, better tomorrow, earn the right to be cared for, earn respect. The frontline workers have gone far and beyond their call of duty to support the country during these troubling times. Kudos.
About the author:
Rajiv Mitra is the CEO & Director, Prabhat Dairy, part of the world’s largest dairy company, Lactalis. Mitra is a commentator on social and economic affairs, member and office bearer at several industry bodies, on advisory boards of post-graduate institutions, MSMEs and startup companies and a keen mentor to students and professionals.