Moving through the shadows: A corporate lesson

During my corporate career spanning nearly four decades, I have handled a wide array of responsibilities, traversed myriad business environments, worked with leaders of different management styles, and encountered a steady stream of professional and personal challenges. On this long journey, there have been moments of accomplishment and recognition, as well as phases that tested my patience and resilience to the hilt. Looking back now, one posting remains vividly etched in my memory - not because of its duration, but because of the clarity it eventually offered.

During that phase, I reported to a manager who very often faltered on both depth and finesse, whose communication was, on several occasions, unclear and repetitive, whose instructions hovered precariously close to the red lines of consistency, and whose expectations, more often than not, were difficult to understand. He liked to lay excessive emphasis on monitoring - where one went, how long one stayed, and what one did - especially during outstation assignments. While this approach may have stemmed from a belief in discipline and diligence, for me it created an atmosphere of unease that began to haunt me and eat into my morale, till, slowly but perceptibly, my productivity went into a tailspin. Within me, stress accumulated to dangerous levels, and the workplace, once a source of engagement and purpose, became increasingly demanding. I found myself withdrawing into a shell, focusing more on self-preservation rather than on productivity or gainful contribution. Eventually, recognising the need to pause and regain equilibrium, I went on a sabbatical and stepped back. That period of distance revealed an important truth to me: that professional environments and personal well-being are closely intertwined with each other, and that prolonged emotional strain rarely remains confined to the mind, but also manifests itself in the form of psychosomatic patterns - as happened with me; sadly, some of these bother me even today.

I might have continued to drift on this tumultuous course, had a timely human intervention - in the form of a mentor from an earlier stage of my career - not come to my rescue. Over a period, he discerned a marked shift in my demeanour, upon which, with empathy, experience, and an intuitive understanding, he reached out to me. He listened without judgement, understood my predicament, and offered support with quiet decisiveness. There was no melodrama, no demonstration of rendering a favour, but only reassurance and direction at a moment when both were needed.

Returning to work under his guidance felt steady and reassuring, and gradually, my confidence was restored. With his encouragement and trust in my capabilities, my performance stabilised, and the remainder of that posting passed smoothly. What could easily have become a prolonged period of disengagement turned into years of consistent contribution and renewed self-belief.

Now, when I reminisce, I realise that the experience reinforced a simple yet powerful lesson for me - that while leadership has the capacity to unsettle and discourage, it also carries within it the power to restore, strengthen, and inspire. The difference lies not in authority, but in compassion and awareness. And for the mentor who helped me regain balance at a crucial juncture, I remain deeply indebted. His intervention shaped my understanding of what humane and effective leadership truly means.

The writer is a corporate professional and an astute observer of everyday life; views are personal