Redundancy: The Signature of Success >>> The Individual Fades, but the work Continues : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Redundancy: The Signature of Success

The Individual Fades, but the work Continues

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

The Hans India (March 1, 2026)

              {{Redundancy marks a shift from ego to ecosystem: the individual recedes, yet the work continues. That continuity is not absence, but it is permanence. To say, ‘I am successfully redundant’ is not withdrawal but fulfillment. It means responsibility has been transferred, capacity multiplied, and the future no longer rests on a single pair of shoulders. Few achieve this, but many resist it. Success is measured not by how long one remains at the center, but by how well the circle holds after one steps away}} – The Hans India Editor’s Synoptic Note

Globally acknowledged and accredited by the Thames Valley University, MP Sethy, the first Indian Master Trainer and pioneer behind the National Training Policies, profoundly influenced my understanding of ‘Leadership and Training.’ We worked together at the Dr MCR HRD State Training Institute. Earlier, I received rigorous training and mentoring from him, in Training Skills, Design, Development, and Management. He often repeated a powerful thought, ‘I feel successful when I sit in the back bench, ask questions, receive right answers from those I trained, and in that moment, I become happily redundant’: thus, trainer leading by example.

That insight stayed with me, and prompted me to expand this idea into a larger reflection, that, ‘Redundancy’ often misunderstood as irrelevance or excess, may in fact, represent the highest form of success in leadership, training, and institution-building. ‘Redundancy’ is often associated with loss of purpose, excess, replacement, irrelevance, or failure. Yet such an understanding is incomplete. When viewed through the larger lens of human development and leadership, redundancy is not a mark of defeat, but it may, in fact, be the most reliable evidence of success.

A mother succeeds when her child functions without her. Father’s role is fulfilled when his next generation decides and stands independently. A teacher’s triumph lies in students who no longer require constant guidance. A manager matures into a leader when decision-making is distributed rather than centralized. Leadership is proven not by personal brilliance, but by the number of capable leaders it produces. The same principle applies to trainers, coaches, mentors, managers, and leaders. Each role carries an implicit responsibility, to become progressively less necessary, and ultimately, constructively redundant.

At the highest levels, for CEOs, Heads of Institutions, Prime Ministers, Heads of State, the test is even clearer. If authority collapses upon an individual’s exit, it reflects dependence. If systems endure beyond the individual, it reflects accomplishment. The ability to withdraw from the mainstream without causing disruption is not abdication, it is validation. When an individual can step aside knowing that others are prepared to carry forward the values, discipline, and direction established, redundancy becomes a quiet declaration of success: ‘I am successfully redundant in my arena.’

Indispensability is not the same as importance. The real failure is not becoming redundant, but remaining indispensable. An indispensable teacher has not truly taught, an indispensable administrator has not built procedure, and an indispensable leader has not built leadership. Presence becomes a crutch where transmission should have occurred. History repeatedly affirms this distinction. Institutions that endure under successors, even unsympathetic ones, reveal maturity because their architects never confused significance with permanence.

When a system can meet a fundamental need independently of its creator, redundancy has been earned. The individual becomes unnecessary not because they were erased, but because they succeeded beyond themselves. This measure applies equally to governance and public life. When even opponents operate within a framework once resisted, irreversibility has replaced personality. This principle is civilizational. Parents raise children so they may leave. Founders build organizations so they may outlast founders. Statesmen frame laws hoping they will be followed without invoking their names. The highest ambition is not remembrance, but irreversibility.

Redundancy, in this sense, marks a shift from ego to ecosystem: the individual recedes, yet the work continues. That continuity is not absence, but it is permanence. To say, ‘I am successfully redundant’ is not withdrawal but fulfillment. It means responsibility has been transferred, capacity multiplied, and the future no longer rests on a single pair of shoulders. Few achieve this, but many resist it. Success is measured not by how long one remains at the center, but by how well the circle holds after one steps away.

India’s Economic Liberalization of 1991 succeeded because it became irreversible. Subsequent governments, regardless of ideology, continued within the same framework. PV Narasimha Rao, who initiated the shift, may have become politically dispensable, but the transformation endured. Irreversibility, not electoral longevity, marked its success. The 108 Emergency Ambulance Service, initiated in Hyderabad by Satyam Computers Chairman B Ramalinga Raju, evolved from personal philanthropy into a structured, technology-driven public utility. Its real achievement lay in surviving beyond its founder. The individual stepped aside, but the function remained. Redundancy was achieved by embedding necessity into structure.

Welfare systems that redefine state–citizen relationships survive political change because they institutionalize consensus rather than preference. Market reforms persist when reversal becomes impractical. Constitutional frameworks endure when authority rests in rules, not individuals. In each case, success is measured not by applause at inception, but by continuity after departure. Leadership styles dependent on charisma, control, or constant intervention collapse when the individual exits. Policies that require perpetual defense reveal conceptual fragility. Institutions that weaken in the absence of a single authority expose a failure to distribute competence. Dependence masquerading as loyalty is not success; it is deferred failure.

From this emerges a clear standard. Anyone entrusted with responsibility, be the parent, teacher, administrator, executive, political leader, must ask a simple but uncomfortable question: If I step away tomorrow, what continues unchanged? If the answer is confusion, vacuum, or regression, redundancy has not been earned. If the answer is continuity, refinement, and confident succession, success has already occurred. Therefore, it requires patience and perseverance to train, develop, and mentor successors in knowledge, skill, attitude, ethics, and values rather than command followers for self-validation.  It demands discipline and foresight to withdraw at the right moment.

History does not celebrate those who remained indispensable. It validates those who became replaceable without consequence. When continuity no longer depends on personal consent, redundancy moves from possibility to proof. In that moment, leadership fulfills its purpose. The individual steps back not diminished, but complete, having converted personal capacity into collective competence. That transformation is the highest form of success, and redundancy its unmistakable signature. To those who stand at the helm of corporations, governments, institutions, or movements, this reflection is offered not as instruction, but as observation born of experience.

Excellence earns authority. It does not entitle permanence. The higher the position, the greater the obligation to think in terms of withdrawal, not hurried or reluctant withdrawal, but prepared, dignified, and deliberate. The true measure of leadership is not how long one remains indispensable, but how confidently one can step aside without consequence. There comes a stage when staying on shifts from contribution to occupation. That moment is subtle and rarely announces itself. Over-centralized systems do not fail loudly. They simply stop growing. Talent does not always revolt. It waits, stagnates, or leaves.

What appears as stability may be arrested development. None is indispensable, not as a rebuke, but as a liberating truth. It frees leaders from the burden of personal continuity and directs attention to what truly matters: preparing others to carry forward what was built. To excel is admirable. To enable others to excel is completion. Withdrawal, when earned, is not disappearance but affirmation. It signals trust in the system and confidence in people. It protects against history’s unkind verdict on those who stayed too long, when past brilliance is overshadowed by prolonged presence.

The wisest leaders leave not when forced or fatigued, but when others are ready. They vacate space not in retreat, but in respect for continuity. Legacy is secured not by holding on, but by letting go at the right moment. Those who truly excel ensure that many others excel on the foundation they laid. They affirm, explicitly and implicitly, that none is indispensable. The moment indispensability is claimed, growth elsewhere is constrained. Sometimes, taking the back bench is the surest way to move the institution forward.

For leadership reaches its highest form not in command, but in continuity. When the work advances without you, your purpose has been fulfilled. 

Friday Evenings at Press Club Hyderabad Continue ..... Memory Deepens into Dialogue in Today’s Get-Together : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Friday Evenings at Press Club Hyderabad Continue

Memory Deepens into Dialogue in Today’s Get-Together

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

(February 27, 2026)

If the first get-together at the Press Club Hyderabad was about planting a seed, the second Friday evening (February 27, 2026) proved that the seed had already begun to sprout. What was earlier described as a gentle experiment in collective memory, now unfolded with greater ease, deeper candor, and a widening circle of shared recollections. The idea remained simple: ‘Meet, Converse, Reflect, and Document.’ Yet, as often happens with meaningful initiatives, simplicity began revealing layers.

The familiar faces joined: Devulapalli Amar, GK Murthy, Bhandaru Srinivasa Rao, Press Club Secretary Ramesh Varikuppala, Vice-President Aruna Atthaluri, and myself. Joining us prominently this time was BS Ramakrishna, whose presence added a fresh rhythm to the evening’s reflections. Over a social drink and informal seating, pyramid dissolved once again into fellowship.

The evening opened on an unexpectedly playful note. BS Ramakrishna initiated what he called a ‘Photo Quiz.’ A photograph taken over fifty years ago was circulated among the group. It depicted a well-known personality, someone deeply familiar to all of us. Guesswork, laughter, teasing recollections, and half-remembered anecdotes filled the table. Interestingly, the quizmaster himself ultimately revealed the answer. The identity of the person, described affectionately as a ‘Friend in Need and Friend Indeed,’ was less important than what the exercise triggered: shared memory as collective ownership.

It was a reminder that journalism is not only about events, but about relationships built across decades. From there, the conversation flowed naturally into the evolution of print media. The transformation of print newspapers into predominantly digital platforms was observed without bitterness, but with curiosity. What truly defines ‘Largest Circulated’ in today’s context? Is it sheer printed copies? Is it digital reach? Is it influence? Or is it credibility?

The discussion, though light in tone, remained objective. The distinction between ‘Volume’ and ‘Issue’ numbers of publications surfaced as an unexpectedly technical yet significant point, particularly and especially in relation to government recognition and institutional benefits. What may appear as mere numbering carries structural implications for legitimacy and continuity.

The name of Andhra Prabha inevitably entered the discussion. There was a time when it was considered the most coveted Telugu newspaper for any aspiring journalist. To secure a position there was to earn professional validation. Some of those among us who had been associated with it, even briefly, or aspired to associate, recalled its editorial culture, discipline, and the pride it instilled. It was not merely employment, but it was apprenticeship in standards. The conversation gently evoked comparisons with present conditions, not as complaint, but in contemplation.

Mannerisms coupled with display of knowledge and skill of some senior journalists of earlier decades, and yester years, surfaced next, wondering as to how they carried themselves, how they edited copy with precision, how silence in the newsroom could be more instructive than lectures. There was mention of a group of three journalists fondly known as the ‘Three Musketeers’ whose camaraderie and intellectual sparring became part of newsroom folklore. Such recollections were not gossip, but they were unwritten chapters of institutional culture.

The dialogue inevitably touched upon the period of the Emergency under Indira Gandhi. The tone remained measured. The focus was not political accusation but professional memory, and how newspapers functioned, how pressures were navigated, and how editorial decisions were shaped by circumstance. References were made to figures such as Siddhartha Shankar Ray, DK Barooah, and AR Antulay, whose roles during that period had left impressions on media narratives of the time. The discussion remained reflective rather than rhetorical. Memory was treated as documentation, not debate. Just an objective critical appraisal.

Throughout the evening, contributions from BS Ramakrishna, Bhandaru Srinivasa Rao, and Devulapalli Amar anchored the discussion with historical clarity and contextual depth. My own role, as in the first meeting, was more of a listener and elicitor, nevertheless with occasional inputs, drawing out details that might otherwise remain unspoken. The pattern emerging from these gatherings is becoming clearer that, no single voice dominates, and instead, memory rotates.

GK Murthy then steered the evening toward a more personal recollection. He narrated, with warmth and detail, his long association with a Rajya Sabha member several times and TTD Chairman couple of times, from an initial acquaintance to close friendship. Through that association, he was able to assist several friends in obtaining darshan at Tirumala. The mention of a former Doordarsan Director known for his helpful disposition, added another strand to the tapestry of interconnected professional lives.

Such anecdotes illustrated how journalism, administration, public relations, and cultural institutions often intersect beyond formal boundaries. What distinguished this second meeting from the first was a subtle shift: from establishing the idea to inhabiting it. The first Friday proved that such a gathering could happen. The second demonstrated that it could sustain itself with fresh content, spontaneity, and intellectual seriousness without losing warmth. What is in store for next meeting is optimistic.

Once again, the meeting concluded not with formal resolutions but with quiet consensus. We would meet the following Friday. More members would be invited. More memoirs of public interest would be documented. The aim is not to create a closed circle, but an expanding forum: informal yet purposeful.

If the first article on Friday Meetings spoke of converting memory into meaning, the second meeting showed how meaning deepens through repetition. Institutions survive not merely through infrastructure but through conversation. The Press Club provides the venue, the participants provide continuity, but the idea provides life.

In an age when discourse often becomes fragmented and hurried, these Friday evenings offer a counter-model: unhurried dialogue, respectful disagreement, laughter sprinkled with learning, and documentation without dramatization.

The formula remains unchanged-

Meet. Reflect. Document. Continue.

But now, there is an added line born of experience-

Repeat, so that memory becomes tradition.

(As these evenings gradually find their rhythm, it is only natural that more like-minded journalists and Press Club members may, in due course, find themselves drawn into the circle, strengthening the continuity of shared professional memory.)

Cricket Then, When I played and watched and Now, when I only watch with no Kick : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Cricket Then, When I played and watched

and Now, when I only watch with no Kick

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

Today’s cricket is technology-driven. Decisions are no longer left entirely to the naked eye of umpires. There is DRS (Decision Review System), Ultra-Edge, Ball-Tracking, Slow-Motion Replays, Spider-Cam, LED Stumps, and instant Third-Umpire Irrevocable Verdicts, flashing on giant screens. Every No-Ball is checked frame by frame. Every appeal is dissected precisely. The game has become faster, louder, commercially vibrant, from Five Day Test Matches to One Day Internationals, to T20s. The cricket of the 1960s, when I played and watched it was pure, patient, and played in what was proudly called as the ‘Sportsman spirit.’  

In the absence of television sets, we listened to every word of Radio Commentators like Vizzy (Maharaj Kumar of Vizianagaram) and Chakrapani. Cricket lovers imagined every stroke and every wicket. For instance, in January 1964, the England Team, then officially known as the Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC), the historic London-Based Club that governed English cricket for decades, toured India. Under the captaincy of MJK Smith, MCC played five Test Matches and two first-class (County) Matches.

Match between South Zone and MCC, was played in Hyderabad, at Fateh Maidan, (LB Stadium) from January 7–9, 1964. South Zone was defeated by an innings and 27 runs. MCC player Wilson displayed outstanding skill in both batting with a century, and bowling in that match. The then Hyderabad (and National) Cricket Star ML Jaisimha, did not make a good score. Out of our love for cricket, some of us who were studying at Khammam College came to Hyderabad for the first time to watch that match.  

Before the county match against South Zone, MCC played the first county match against the Indian Board President’s XI in Bangalore from January 3–5. That match ended in a draw. Apart from captain Smith, players who represented England were: Brian Bolus, Fred Titmus, John Mortimore, John Price, Colin Cowdrey, David Larter, Barry Knight, Jim Parks, Ken Barrington, and others. On the Indian side, the players included captain Mansoor Ali Khan the Nawab of Pataudi, Buddhi Kunderan, Chandu Borde, Bapu Nadkarni, Salim Abdul Durani, Bhagwat Chandrasekhar, Dilip Sardesai, ML Jaisimha, Rama Kant Desai, Hanumant Singh etc.

All five Test matches ended in draws. Pataudi won the toss in all five matches. In the first match held at Madras, Farokh Engineer, who was to have played as opener and wicketkeeper, was not included in the team at the last moment due to injury, and in his place, Buddhi Kunderan played. In that match, India’s first innings score was 457/7 (declared). Since Buddhi Kunderan scored 192 runs, he was retained as the opener-wicketkeeper for the remaining four matches. In the final match held at Kanpur, Pataudi despite winning the toss, surprising many, chose to put England in to bat first.

England scored a massive 559 runs for the loss of 8 wickets, throwing a big challenge before India, since it was forced to follow on as feared. India were all out for just 266 runs in their first innings. Since Nadkarni, who had come in at the end as a bowler in the first innings, played well and remained not out, captain Pataudi promoted him to open the batting in the second innings. Nadkarni responded magnificently with a century and remained unbeaten, saving India from defeat. It was tactical brilliance by Pataudi, and extraordinary character from Nadkarni.

One unforgettable reminiscence was that, the legendary bowling of Bapu Nadkarni. In one famous spell (Madras Test against MCC), he bowled an astonishing 32 consecutive overs, with 27 maidens including 21 consecutive or 131 dot balls in a row, conceding just five runs. Today, with aggressive batting, fielding restrictions, and powerplays, such an achievement of sustained accuracy is unimaginable, and would be nearly impossible. Nadkarni represented discipline, control, and mental strength. He was not dramatic, but he was relentless. Batsmen simply could not score off him.  

Each player had distinct stylish mannerisms, that won many hearts. ML Jaisimha of MCC (Maredpally Cricket Club, Hyderabad), the elegant, with a princely bearing, was admired for his grace at the crease. The Charismatic, fearless, tactically sharp Captain Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi, despite losing vision in one eye, captained with boldness. His double century in the series demonstrated both class and courage. Salim A Durrani, was a crowd favorite. Spectators would shout, ‘Durrani Six!’ and often he would oblige, though basically he was a Bowler! He brought romance into cricket. He was both unpredictable and magical.

Chandu Borde was, as always, the ‘Dependable Sheet Anchor’ of the Indian batting line-up. In an era where pitches were uncovered and unpredictable, Borde combined technique with temperament. He stabilized innings when early wickets fell. His value was not always in flashy strokes but in resilience. Dilip Sardesai was compact and dependable, rebuilding innings with quiet determination and admirable concentration. BS Chandrasekhar, with unorthodox action and deceptive leg-spin, could suddenly transform a match, keeping batsmen uncertain and spectators spellbound.

On the England side, players like Brian Bolus, Colin Cowdrey, Fred Titmus, and MJK Smith were technically sound and disciplined cricketers. The weather however, did not suit them. I recall that, there was an instance during the series when several England (MCC) players fell ill. At one stage, they did not have eleven fully fit players to field. Indian players stepped in to field for them. It was all in the true ‘Sportsman Spirit’ unlike today.

Overall, combining all the matches, the highest run-scorers for India were Buddhi Kunderan (525), Dilip Sardesai (449), and ML Jaisimha (444). For England, Brian Bolus (391), Colin Cowdrey (309), and MJK Smith (306) scored the most runs. From both sides, Salim Durani took 11 wickets, Chandrasekhar 10 wickets, Bapu Nadkarni 9 wickets, Titmus 27 wickets, John Price 14 wickets, and Wilson 9 wickets. I remember that Hanumant Singh scored a century in the very first match he played. Likewise, Pataudi also scored a double century.

There was no talk of ‘Match Fixing.’ No betting scandals. No media trials. Just pride in performance and respect for the opponent. Cricket today is faster, richer, and scientifically analyzed. Cricket then was slower, quieter, and emotionally deeper. Today’s players are global celebrities. Those days’ players were admired like artists. Today we watch in ultra-HD clarity. Then we listened and imagined. And perhaps that imagination made the memories even more beautiful.

I also vividly recall John Reid’s inspiring captaincy for New Zealand during his visit to Hyderabad, when he had great difficulty pronouncing the name of off-spinner Venkat Raghavan, whom he generously praised as a future Test great: a fine gesture of sportsmanship that left a deep impression on me. I remember how ML Jaisimha was initially overlooked for the Australia tour, only to be recalled as indispensable, and how later, rewarding the selectors with a fine century in the second innings. I also remember Syed Abid Ali of Hyderabad excelling as opening bowler, opening batsman, and even wicketkeeper.

At one stage, the Indian Test side (almost all) was dominated by South Zone Players, many from Hyderabad, including Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi of Jaisimha’s MCC. I clearly recall Garfield Sobers taking a catch against South Zone in Hyderabad and expressing doubt, as he felt his fingers might have touched the ground. Despite the umpire seeking clarification, Sobers honestly admitting his uncertainty, strangely, the next day, sections of the media criticized him for not speaking up before being formally asked, an ironic response to an act of rare integrity.

Then, cricket was guided by conscience and character, when a player’s word could decide an outcome, and we trusted the spirit of the game. Now, it is governed by cameras and precision, where technology confirms every verdict. From conscience to cameras, that, perhaps, is ‘Then and Now.’

Beyond All Doctrines, Toward Universal Secular Humanism ..... Civilization Synthesis for the Future : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Beyond All Doctrines, Toward Universal Secular Humanism

Civilization Synthesis for the Future

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

‘Human History’ may be understood as a sustained ascent of consciousness seeking coherence amidst complexity. Across ages and civilizations, humanity generated systems of thought to interpret existence, regulate society, and inspire moral action. Each intellectual movement, ancient, medieval, or modern, offered a distinct lens through which reality, justice, power, devotion, reason, and progress were examined. Karl Marx interpreted ‘Human History’ as ‘Shaped by Class Struggle’ arising from control over the means of production, a central idea in ‘Historical Materialism’ developed with Friedrich Engels to explain social change.

The central question before humanity, however, is how diverse inheritances may converge constructively. Contemporary Society calls for synthesis and integrative imagination rather than fragmentation. It requires a framework capable of holding plurality without erasing difference. ‘Universal Humanism’ may be viewed as a forward-looking civilizational proposition that seeks to articulate ‘Shared Human Values’ strong enough to guide collective aspiration across borders. Civilizations have risen and declined, yet the quest for knowledge, harmony, and higher purpose has endured, though not always with the dynamism that changing times demand.

Across centuries, thinkers, sages, philosophers, and reformers moved ahead of their times, illuminating pathways for generations that followed. Visionaries from social and scientific spheres, including those shaping transformative technologies such as Artificial Intelligence, have influenced the rhythm of human advancement. Their contributions were not isolated flashes but enduring sources of guidance that continue to shape collective understanding. In the fertile intellectual landscape of Bharata Varsha, foundations were laid through the Vedas, Upanishads, Eighteen Puranas, Adi Kavya, Jaya Samhita, and Prabhanda literature, forming living dialogues between humanity and cosmos, and between inquiry and insight.

The sages, some celebrated and some beyond the visible margins of recorded history, crafted frameworks of thought that transcended geography and era. They imparted to humanity dharma, self-realization, compassion, nonviolence, and unity amidst diversity. From this foundation emerged philosophical streams such as Adi Shankara’s Advaita, Ramanuja’s Visishtadvaita, and Madhvacharya’s Dvaita, each reflecting a many-sided search for truth. Across India and other parts of the world, Buddha taught the middle path and liberation from suffering, Mahavira upheld nonviolence, Jesus Christ emphasized love and forgiveness, and Prophet Mohammad proclaimed devotion to one God with justice and responsibility, enriching humanity’s ethical horizon.

The spirit of Vedism evolved and adapted, pacing continually toward ‘Next, Next, and Next.’ In the modern age, Mahatma Gandhi transformed Truth and Non-Violence into a moral force in public life. Across continents, Hegelian Dialectics, Marxism, Leninism, Mao Thought, Feudalism, Capitalism, Socialism, and other frameworks emerged in response to changing historical conditions. These systems were responses to human aspiration as well as human suffering, deliberate attempts to structure justice, growth, equity, and social progress within defined philosophical parameters.

The Vedas represent the earliest structured articulation of spiritual inquiry, cosmic order, and ethical living, presenting knowledge as both revelation and disciplined reflection. The Upanishads deepened this inquiry into philosophical introspection, centering upon the identity of the individual self, Atman, with ultimate reality, Brahman. The Eighteen Puranas rendered abstract metaphysics into narrative theology, ethics, cosmology, and cultural memory, thereby extending philosophical understanding to the broader society.

The Adi Kavya, traditionally associated with the Valmiki Ramayana, portrayed ethical dilemmas and righteous conduct through epic narrative, presenting dharma in lived and relatable human situations. The Jaya Samhita, forming the nucleus of the Veda Vyasa Mahabharata, examined the complexity of moral conflict, governance, and human choice under conditions of crisis and responsibility. Prabhanda literature marked a later flowering of classical thought into poetic, historical, and didactic compositions that blended aesthetic refinement with ethical instruction, sustaining continuity between reflection and social life.

Adi Shankara’s Advaita asserts the non-dual reality of Brahman, affirming the essential unity of existence beyond apparent multiplicity and directing inquiry toward realization through knowledge. Ramanuja’s Visishtadvaita presents qualified non-dualism, recognizing unity enriched by diversity, where the individual soul remains distinct yet inseparable from the Divine. Madhvacharya’s Dvaita emphasizes an eternal distinction between the individual soul and the Supreme, underscoring relational devotion, moral responsibility, and divine grace as central to spiritual fulfillment.

Mahatma Gandhi reinterpreted ancient ethical principles into an actionable philosophy of public life grounded in ‘Satya and Ahimsa,’ crystallized through ‘Satyagraha,’ which profoundly influenced movements for civil rights and national freedom across the world. Hegelian dialectics described historical progress as the unfolding of ideas through ‘Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis’ emphasizing the evolution of human consciousness as the dynamic force shaping institutions and society. His method was rooted in philosophical idealism, viewing reality as ultimately shaped by the development of thought.

Marx reformulated dialectics upon a materialist foundation, focusing on economic conditions and class relations as decisive factors in historical transformation. Marxism analyzed social development through material production and class struggle, asserting that economic structures significantly influence political and cultural formations. Lenin, in developing Leninism and in works such as ‘One Step Forward, Two Steps Back’ extended this framework into a theory of organized revolutionary leadership and disciplined political action suited to modern state structures.

Mao adapted Marxism and Leninism to agrarian conditions, emphasizing mass mobilization, cultural reorientation, and continuing transformation within society. During the Cultural Revolution, religion and traditional practices were targeted under the campaign against the Four Olds: ‘Old Ideas, Culture, Customs, and Old Habits.’ Mao’s strategic formulation was expressed in the maxim: ‘When the enemy advances we retreat, when the enemy camps we harass, when the enemy tires we attack, and when the enemy retreats we pursue.’

Feudalism described a hierarchical social and economic order structured around land ownership, allegiance, and inherited privilege, providing stability within clearly defined ranks while limiting mobility. Capitalism organized economic life around private ownership, market competition, and capital accumulation, stimulating innovation, productivity, and individual enterprise. Socialism advocated collective or state stewardship of essential resources to promote distributive justice and social welfare through coordinated planning. Despite this wide spectrum of ideological arrangements, humanity continues to seek an integrative horizon that reconciles efficiency with equity and freedom with responsibility.

Prestigious recognitions such as the Nobel Prize, Academy Awards, Pulitzer Prize, Ramon Magsaysay Award, Booker Prize, Order of Lenin, and the Jawaharlal Nehru Award for International Understanding celebrate excellence within defined spheres of achievement. Yet a deeper aspiration persists, envisioning a framework that can synthesize wisdom traditions, modern thought, scientific inquiry, ethical reflection, economic organization, and human empathy into shared covenant of values.

Within this context, ‘Universal Humanism’ maybe conceived as a ‘Civilization Mission’ that seeks not to replace existing systems but to harmonize them, acknowledging contributions from capitalism, socialism, and enduring spiritual traditions while upholding human dignity, knowledge, compassion, and responsibility as common denominators. It aspires to integrate spiritual insight, ethical accountability, scientific temper, and social justice into a coherent and forward-looking orientation.

Movement toward such a horizon requires first a clarity of message affirming that humanity is capable of synthesis without uniformity, unity without erasure, and progress without exploitation. It requires next a culture of structured dialogue across civilizations, disciplines, and generations, where listening is valued as highly as assertion. It requires also enabling mechanisms, institutional as well as cultural, that translate ideals into educational frameworks, research collaborations, and public policy initiatives. As society advances continually toward what may be called ‘Next, Next, and Next,’ the purpose is not to negate inherited wisdom but to refine and extend it in light of present realities.

If the past, since the days of Vedic chants, offered philosophies and the present provides platforms, the future must ensure integration. Scholars of Vedanta must converse with economists, technologists with ethicists, policymakers with philosophers, and youth with elders. Universities, research institutes, international bodies, think tanks, interfaith forums, and digital platforms may engage these themes not as debate for victory or assertion of superiority, but as exploration for convergence, leading to a ‘Universal Humanism Award’ honoring those who bridge divides with conscience.

AN OPINION By Arun Kumar Pendyala.... On ‘PROFESSIONS, CHECKERED CAREER, AND LESSONS’ : Book Authored By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 AN OPINION By Arun Kumar Pendyala

(Private Secretary to Leader of the Opposition, TG Legislative Council

And Former Private Secretary to Former CM KCR)

On ‘PROFESSIONS, CHECKERED CAREER, AND LESSONS’

Book Authored By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons is not merely an autobiography; it is a layered document of lived governance, institutional memory, and moral inquiry. Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao’s narrative spans more than seven decades of Indian public life, moving from a remote Telangana village to the highest corridors of constitutional authority. What makes this work distinctive is not the variety of positions the author held, but the reflective integrity with which he examines each phase of his journey.

At its core, the book explores how individuals are shaped by institutions and how institutions, in turn, are shaped by individuals who choose conscience over convenience. The author’s life from a Khangi school education to working with Governors, Chief Ministers, and building institutions such as EMRI and Chetana becomes a prism through which post-Independence India’s administrative evolution can be understood.

One of the book’s greatest strengths lies in its unembellished honesty. Jwala Rao does not present himself as a flawless achiever or a conventionally “successful” academic. On the contrary, he openly acknowledges academic setbacks, third classes, compartmental, and abandoned degrees and juxtaposes them with moments of intellectual awakening and professional excellence. This candor lends credibility and relatability to the narrative, especially for readers conditioned to equate merit only with linear success.

The early chapters, describing a rural upbringing amid communist-influenced villages and orthodox family traditions, are particularly significant. They establish an enduring ideological duality, socialist humanism and spiritual grounding that continues to inform the author’s worldview. His early exposure to rural exploitation and governance failure explains his lifelong ‘Quest for Meaningful and Acceptable Governance,’ a phrase that recurs throughout the book like a moral compass.

Equally compelling is the author’s portrayal of education as character formation rather than credential accumulation. Accounts of single-teacher schools, rigorous higher secondary education, and intellectually demanding university systems stand in sharp contrast to contemporary learning environments. These sections are not nostalgic indulgences but subtle critiques of diluted academic rigor and weakened teacher-student relationships today. The transition from science to the humanities, and eventually to public administration, marks a philosophical turning point.

The influence of teachers such as Professor VS Murthy and Professor NGS. Kini is narrated with both reverence and analytical depth. Their ideological disagreements particularly on Marxism and Indira Gandhi, are presented as lessons in intellectual pluralism rather than partisan rivalry. Few autobiographies capture the classroom as a crucible of democratic thinking as effectively as this one. Professionally, the book is strongest when detailing the author’s evolution through institutions rather than positions.

Whether as BHEL Higher Secondary School Librarian, Dr MCR HRDI Faculty Member, Chetana Administrative Officer in Raj Bhavan, PRO and CPRO to Chief Ministers, Jwala N Rao repeatedly underscores that authority flows from competence, trust, and ethical clarity not designation. His emphasis on ‘Task Accomplishment and Target Fulfillment’ even at the cost of procedural discomfort, raises enduring questions about bureaucratic rigidity versus outcome-oriented governance.

The Raj Bhavan chapters are among the most powerful in the book. Governor Kumud Ben Joshi emerges not merely as a constitutional figure but as a humane leader who dismantled hierarchy through personal example. The account of efforts to eradicate the Jogini system, including the historic registered marriages conducted at Raj Bhavan, stands as rare documentation of moral courage translated into administrative action. These chapters alone justify the book’s relevance for students of public administration and social reform.

Similarly, the chapters on EMRI 108 emergency services offer an insider’s view of how institutional discipline, rigorous review mechanisms, and visionary leadership particularly under Venkat Changavalli can transform a public-private partnership into a lifesaving national model. These passages read like management case studies while remaining grounded in human consequence rather than corporate abstraction.

The author’s tenure as PRO to Chief Minister Dr Marri Channa Reddy and later as CPRO to Chief Minister K Chandrashekhar Rao adds another critical dimension: the ethics of political communication. Jwala Rao rejects propaganda-driven public relations, advocating instead fidelity to thought, nuance, and constitutional responsibility. His reflections on power, insecurity around authority, and silent sidelining are written without bitterness, revealing maturity shaped by long engagement rather than short ambition.

K Chandrashekhar Rao (KCR) is presented as a leader of uncommon stature, as observed through sustained and close association. What stands out is his clarity of vision, disciplined decision-making, and deep respect for institutional processes. The book reflects how KCR’s leadership blends cultural rootedness with modern governance, driven by rigorous review, consultation, and system-building rather than impulse. His ability to convert public aspirations into long-term welfare and development frameworks earns him admiration across the administrative spectrum.

As portrayed in the book, KCR emerges not merely as a Chief Minister, but as a statesman committed to durable, people-centric governance. Stylistically, the book is dense and occasionally repetitive, reflecting its origin as lived memory rather than curated literature. Yet this density is also its strength. It preserves texture, names, contexts, and institutional detail that future historians and administrators will find invaluable. The narrative demands patience but rewards attentiveness.

In conclusion, Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons is a rare genre-defying work: part autobiography, part governance manual, part ethical meditation. It neither glorifies power nor offers simplistic prescriptions. Instead, it reminds readers that public life, at its best, is an exercise in restraint, responsibility, and relevance.

For young administrators, journalists, policy thinkers, and anyone interested in the moral architecture of Indian governance, this book is not just worth reading it is worth revisiting. It teaches that careers may be checkered, but values need not be compromised; that institutions matter, but people matter more; and that dignity, once earned through integrity, outlives office and authority.

{{From my Forthcoming Book

Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons

(From Librarian to CPRO to CM KCR)

A Journey from Khangi School to Center for Excellence}}