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    From Ouch to Oops
    From Ouch to Oops
    From Ouch to Oops
    Ebook152 pages2 hours

    From Ouch to Oops

    By RamG Vallath

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    RamG Vallath has everything going for him. He has studied at IIT, seen 200 per cent jumps in his salary and become one of the youngest chief operating officers of a telecom company in India. When he steps into the role of a director at a major international computer hardware firm, he thinks life is set.But life is soon about to come crashing down on him. He is diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disorder that weakens his muscles. Mundane tasks like buttoning up his shirt, climbing down steps and typing on a keyboard become excruciatingly difficult. To make things worse, he loses his job at a time when his annual hospitalization bill has steadily climbed to Rs 20 lakh.But even as the chips are down and hope starts to fade, RamG decides not to give up. He becomes the cheerleader at home and outside, spreading positivity wherever he goes and choosing to meet his fate with a brave face.From Ouch to Oops is the inspirational true story of RamG's life and holds lessons not just for people with disabilities but anyone with a mental demon. It will teach you grit and courage, make you laugh, and show how when the going gets tough, the tough get humorous. You will put it down knowing that RamG is the most positive person you have ever met.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateNov 1, 2014
    ISBN9789351368182
    From Ouch to Oops
    Author

    RamG Vallath

    Ramgopal Vallath, better known as RamG Vallath, is an IITian, a tech company co-founder, a much sought-after motivational speaker and the author of the best-selling autobiography From Ouch to Oops. He has inspired over 50,000 children with his talks and his life story is a chapter in one of the eighth-class textbooks for CBSE students. As a keynote speaker, RamG has addressed over one lakh people across the globe and helped them become more resilient, more positive, happier and more successful.

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      Book preview

      From Ouch to Oops - RamG Vallath

      1. Problem? Bring It On!

      I appreciate that springing the above episode on you without any background was a bit like putting the cart before the horse. So let me step back a bit and present to you the horse. I mean, let me walk you through some events in my life which taught me important lessons and helped shape me. This will also shed some light on the context of what I just described.

      To build the horse from scratch, I have to go all the way back and introduce you to my parents. They were the epitome of an average Indian middle class family of the 1970s. My father was an engineer in the Kerala State Electricity Board and my mother was a homemaker (referred to as a housewife in those days of political incorrectness). I had an elder brother, Balagopal Vallath, who was called BalG by everyone. I was born two years after him in 1968. I was called RamG, short for Ramgopal.

      After embracing a socialist model, the country had experienced slow economic growth. It was also disconnected from the global economy. Our closest ally was the Soviet Union. The West was, for us, a demon symbolizing greed and colonization.

      My parents, like most people of their generation, believed in socialism. They were also extraordinarily idealistic. In a country where caste lines were clear and rigid, they inculcated in us the belief that all human beings are born equal. In a country which has substantial representation of at least five religions and which had witnessed religious strife that caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people in just a few decades, they inculcated in us the belief that there is only one god and that all religions are true. In a country where the chasms between classes are unbridgeable, they taught us the concept of respecting every human being and treating everyone as an equal.

      My father had strong views about how we should be educated. He insisted on enrolling us in government schools—vernacular ones at that, where every subject was taught in Malayalam, my mother tongue. This was seen as an act of utter stupidity by his peers and relatives. They felt it was the equivalent of flushing us down the drain. Good English-medium education was seen as the only way for the middle class to break barriers and make a quantum leap into the upper or at least the upper-middle class and a government school was not perceived to be capable of delivering the kind of education required for this. Most middle class parents enrolled their kids in privately run or convent schools—the ones run by various parish churches. Consequently, I studied in the type of schools which were abandoned by the upper class and the middle class of society.

      Kerala, my home state, was an outlier in many socioeconomic parameters compared to the other states of India. In 1956, it had stunned the world by electing the first democratically elected communist government in the world. It had a strong activist middle class and very active trade unions which pushed for better working conditions for the masses. Indices such as the number of doctors per thousand population or number of hospitals per thousand population were comparable to those in developed countries in the West. The literacy rate in Kerala even in those days was nearing 90 per cent while the rest of the country languished at around 50 per cent. Education was given the highest priority, and parents would do anything to ensure that their children were sent to school.

      I was one of the privileged few in my school whose fathers were engineers (even though my father’s salary in those days was about Rs 2,000 a month). My classmates were mostly from underprivileged backgrounds and many of them had to walk several kilometres through difficult hilly terrain to reach school, often carrying two packets of rice, one for breakfast and one for lunch. There was no school uniform to speak of, except for a white shirt and white mundu, a rectangular piece of cloth which is wrapped around the waist. Nobody ever wore shoes. There were a few students who wore flip-flops, but most could not afford this luxury and were used to walking barefoot. It was not surprising that academically they were far below average, and thanks to the support I had from my parents, my scores were miles ahead of those of my classmates.

      One of the pitfalls of using a strong sense of nationalism to drive home the values enshrined in the nation’s Constitution is that it makes one believe that one’s country is morally superior to others. This was what happened to me. I became a reverse snob. In my mind, much like with many others of my generation, English-medium schooling, urbanization, the private sector, profit making, Western culture, the United States of America, and so on, became things to be looked down upon. Of course, in my case, in addition, I also believed that the Malayali from Kerala was the true proponent of the true religion, communism, and hence superior to all other Indians, who were in turn superior to everyone else (except the Russians). So the pecking order, according to me, was Lenin, Marx, Malayalis, Russians, other Indians and then the rest of the world. Right at the bottom, jostling with the devil, were Americans and the British.

      Fortunately for me, this deep dislike for the English-speaking population of the world did not extend to English books. I was a voracious reader and started reading English books when I was about eleven. I was motivated to read the works of P.G. Wodehouse and the stories of Sherlock Holmes in their original form as my father had already introduced me to them in Malayalam. My parents supported our reading habit by enrolling us in public libraries and encouraging us to borrow English books.

      A turning point in my life came about when, over some conversation, my father spoke to me about Mark Antony’s speech in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. I was so affected by its power that I read the whole play to understand the context. It was bloody difficult, and I must have understood only about 30 per cent of the content. But I took this as a challenge, and by the time I was in Class 10, I had read half a dozen of Shakespeare’s plays—all original unabridged versions—and could mutter ‘Hark! Methinks though art a moron’ in my sleep. Consequently, my grasp of the English language and its literature was better than that of our teacher, who used to teach us the subject in Malayalam.

      One of the clear positive sides of studying in a school where the standards were low was that I had to focus on becoming a good student on an absolute scale, having no clue whatsoever how good or bad I was relative to academically sound kids across the country. In my Class 10 board exams, the pass percentage in my school was an abysmal 20 per cent.

      In Class 11 and 12, when I moved to a pre-degree course in a government college (the equivalent of the junior and senior years of high school), the standard improved substantially, but it was still lower than that of the top institutes in the country. Those two years were pure, unadulterated fun. I realized just how much of a nerd I was. This amazing self-realization happened when I started a correspondence coaching programme for the IIT JEE exams.

      For those who are not familiar with IIT JEE, or IIT for that matter, let me give a brief explanation. The IITs or the Indian Institutes of Technology—five in my time, sixteen today—were the ultimate destination for undergraduate learning of technology in India. Each year, about 2,00,000 hopeful students would vie for a total of 2,000 seats in these five institutes. Admission was solely based on the Joint Entrance Exam, the IIT JEE, arguably the toughest exam in the universe. It was so tough that a huge number of kids (about a million) who wanted to do their graduation in technology did not even take it and settled for other engineering colleges, knowing full well that they didn’t stand a chance of getting through.

      I had a huge and unfair advantage. I had no clue about these daunting statistics at that time. I also had no clue about where I stood, since there weren’t too many academically strong students of that league around me to compare myself with. Consequently, unfettered by any feeling of inferiority, I dived into the preparation with complete glee.

      The other advantage I had, which was almost as important as the earlier one, was that I loved the subjects of study: math and science. Again, I must thank my government school education and my parents for this love of science and my inquisitive nature. The schools I studied in hardly ever loaded me with homework and I had ample time to pursue my scientific curiosities by reading hundreds of science books written in Malayalam and published by an extraordinarily progressive organization called the Kerala Shastra Sahitya Parishad, which worked towards enhancing the standards of education in the state. I also had plenty of opportunities to conduct innumerable experiments on my own using the chemicals, test tubes and other scientific paraphernalia my parents had bought for me at a very young age. (My secret desire was to discover a new element and I spent many hours on this quest, burning various chemicals or mixing them together in our kitchen.)

      During the days of my preparation for the IIT entrance exam, I would each month receive a packet from Brilliant Tutorials, a correspondence coaching institute. These had sets of workbooks with problems that were so tough that they would make one’s hair curl. But as for me, I attacked them happily. I was a nerd and was proud to be one. There were problems that would knock the living daylights out of me—quite literally, since I would lie awake at night, trying out various permutations and combinations to crack them. But I would never leave a problem unsolved. There were occasions when I spent several days solving a single problem. My distraught mother would think I was heartbroken over some girl and contemplating suicide, when, in actuality, I would be breaking my head over what on earth the value of X was.

      But I knew that if I spent enough time on a problem and looked at it from all angles, I would be able to solve it. I used to be so immersed in my preparations that I would often forget to eat or socialize. I was like an athlete who was ‘in the zone’. Just in case you think I was a hopeless nerd with

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