Professionals, either in the peak of their career or en route there, are changing gears to smaller, `satisfying' vocations and lifestyles. What is their rationale? Namita M. Anand finds out.

Fables have always insisted that the hard-working ant is far superior to the carefree cricket. But in the new millennium, the ant-grasshopper equation hangs in the balance. In the fable's latest version, the ant is so intent on toiling that it does not even take its customary winter break to sit back and enjoy the reserves built up during summer. Thus, soon after the grasshopper has died of starvation, the ant dies of exhaustion.

Likening the 21st-century Indian yuppie to the ant may sound simplistic, but a majority of the new-age professionals do not seem to know when to say `stop' to work. Relationships, health, hobbies, even the self... all are sacrificed at the altar of professional success.

A direct fallout has been the increasing incidence of burn-outs, stress-induced physical ailments, divorce and breakdown in family ties. While most professionals view these problems as excess baggage accompanying success, a minuscule few are refusing to buckle down under the system.

Tired of the many personal sacrifices that a high-profile job demands, these ``rebels'' are re-orienting/ downscaling/ abandoning their careers to pursue a work life in sync with their individual priorities. The change in track often results in material losses -- be it money, power, fame or opportunities -- but they don't seem to mind; in holistic terms, they have been net gainers from the trade-off, they feel.

Rahul Jain, a former World Bank consultant, now weaves cloth. Eight years ago, Rahul, armed with a masters in Economics (Syracuse), was working with some of the most brilliant people in his field and earning $40,000 per annum (tax-free, of course) in the US. He had been accepted by Massachusetts Institute of Technology for a Ph.D. programme. He seemingly had the world before him.

But, somehow, that world was just not enough for Rahul. He chucked it all and returned to India to weave his dreams, literally. The economist runs a small hand-weaving unit in Delhi, where he lives with his parents, has artisans for colleagues, earns Rs. 10,000 per month and claims that he is better off than he was in the US.

``I had a very good material life in the States. But despite this I felt hollow. I am a person of diverse interests that range from art to astrophysics. Logging in 18-hour work-days for seven days a week left me with no time to pursue any other interest and this started getting to me. I had to get out of the groove,'' says Rahul.

Work as therapy

His love affair with weaving started in the picturesque Kullu-Manali. Back home on vacation, the economist chanced upon a hill-woman weaving. ``It was love at first sight. I had never seen hand-weaving before and I found it completely mind-boggling. It was the slowest, most tedious process I had seen and, despite this, the woman seemed to be enjoying herself. I decided right there that this was something I needed to learn.''

Rahul enrolled in a crafts workshop in the US to learn weaving during the weekends. The more he learnt, the more he was hooked. ``It was such an elemental activity, almost like therapy.'' In the next two years, he began spending more and more time on the loom, and in libraries and museums researching textiles. Finally, he decided to quit his job, return to India and recreate woven masterpieces from bygone eras. ``People called me stupid but it did not bother me. I knew I had to do this.''

Rahul's first project involved spinning cloth woven with real gold and silver thread, a legacy of the Moghul courts. He bought a loom, hired craftsmen and started work. It took him four long years to perfect the technique but, in the end, he got what he wanted -- material that looked as if it was enamelled in gold and seemed more like jewellery than cloth.

Fame, of sorts, followed. Textile museums now display Rahul's work, the Who's Who of Indian glitterati sport his stoles and each piece created at his workshop sells for a fabulous price. The earnings go to a trust that supports the workshop. The trust covers Rahul's expenses and pays him a stipend of Rs. 10,000 per month.

The money may seem little but Rahul claims it is enough to meet his needs. The fact that he has no family to support and stays with his parents, of course, helps. But there are some others with families and other financial liabilities who have also forsaken the security of the monthly pay cheque.

Neelima Rao, a National Institute of Design graduate, and her husband, an infotech professional, were expecting their child when they decided to quit their regular jobs and freelance. In terms of conventional wisdom, harakiri, but in terms of personal growth, Neelima insists, ``an absolute must''. ``The stench of the armpits, the 9.30 a.m. to 5.30 p.m. routine, the chartered bus, designing the same old book covers, it was getting to be mind-numbing. I, for one, had to get out.''

``We just went on the gut-feel that we would get enough work.'' And what if they didn't? ``Well, we thought, what the heck, we would just buy cheaper diapers,'' chuckles Neelima. Fortunately, three years later, everything seems to have worked out well. ``I work at my own pace, design different products and actually get my hands dirty. This is basically what I wanted.''

The choices made by the Raos and Jain are not isolated cases. Shiv Aggarwal, Manager, ABC Placement Services, notes that Corporate India is seeing an increasing number of bright young professionals forsaking the bandwagon to do their own thing, which is generally a more peaceful, laid-back activity.

Breaking stereotypes

`We cannot call this a trend yet,'' clarifies Aggarwal, ``but yes, we are seeing a lot more youngsters, generally premier institution products, making off-beat career choices -- social work, teaching, whatever -- today. These kids are not obsessed with stereotypes. They are interested in adding value to themselves and the ongoing liberalisation has made many more options available to them.''

Dr. Avdesh Sharma, prominent Delhi psychiatrist, concurs with Aggarwal's view. But he hastens to add that youngsters are not the only ones going off the beaten track. ``There is another set of people -- achievers, generally forty-something, who have peaked in their field and are in the process of redefining their priorities -- that is getting off.''

Ganesh Eashwar, a top name in advertising circles till recently, qualifies for this group. Three years ago, Eashwar was a director on the board of RK Swamy/BBDO. Today he runs an organic farm near Bangalore.

When Eashwar quit RK Swamy/BBDO in August 1997 he had no intentions of farming. ``I believed I was going to move to another job. I had a few options in South-East Asia around that time, but then the entire region's economy collapsed and so did my plans. I was 47. And suddenly there was no job.''

The organic farm happened then. ``There was nothing dramatic about the decision,'' reminisces Eashwar. ``I had always been interested in nature and things natural. I had at different times toyed with recycling of wastes/ plastics/ glass, manufacturing hand-made paper, marketing eco-friendly cleaning agents and similar pursuits. So organic farming was a natural move for me. Reading about the large incidence of DDT in breast-milk was the ultimate push I needed.''

In January 1998, Eashwar and his wife, Jayashree, set about converting the ``kharab'' land they owned outside Bangalore into a genuine organic farm. It has not been easy work. The Eashwars have had to plough in all their savings and more into the farm. ``But finally,'' says Eashwar, ``it looks as if we'll get to see the other side. The farm has begun to yield.''

Still, the farm does not yield the kind of income advertising did and the family has had to trim its lifestyle. However, they have no intention of turning their 15-acre project into a large corporate-type farm that can generate higher returns.

Quiz Eashwar on whether he misses being ``boss'', and he replies, ``I still am, of my own time.'' What he does miss is the camaraderie and the peer-group interactions of the advertising world. The adman-turned-farmer does maintain contact with his old world and even takes up occasional assignments. For, as he is quick to point out, the switch to farming does not mean that ``I have taken E-Sanyas''.

The organic produce of the farm will soon be converted into value-added products and Eashwar is looking forward to creating his own brand, something he has done for others for years.

Yet another group of people, probably the bravest of them all, who are down-scaling/ changing careers, consists of individuals who cannot deal with certain aspects of their work life and have no qualms about admitting this to themselves and the world.

Dr. K, a leading paediatrician in the Capital, also holds a degree in oncology, a branch of medicine that deals with the treatment of cancer. Very few people know this because Dr. K stopped his practice in oncology years ago because it made him ``miserable''.

``I lost so many patients, lovely kids, to cancer that it started depressing me. I was attached to these children. I could not take their deaths.'' He knew that as a doctor he should be able to deal with the death situation but since he could not he decided to distance himself from it. ``I quit oncology and went back to plain, simple paediatrics.''

For Jyoti Punj, sister of Atul Punj, the Chairman of Punj-Lloyd, the problem was more mundane. She lacked business sense. A serious handicap, indeed, when you run the country's largest interior design store and belong to an illustrious corporate house. ``But then,'' Jyoti points out, ``I have always been more of an artist than a businesswoman.''

Basically a designer, Jyoti became an entrepreneur when she started `The Inside Story'. She loved the store but hated the hassles that came along with it. ``Labour strikes, excise men, there were so many peripherals to deal with. I just could not manage it and so had to, time and again, ask my brother or husband for help.''

It was only after the store was shifted out of the large premises in Okhla and Jyoti was forced to scale down work that she realised how much the ``peripherals'' had been bogging her down. ``Initially, I had fought tooth-and-nail to retain the Okhla premises but now I feel much happier running a smaller show. Some people snigger. They say it is a case of small grapes but after doing the whole cycle I genuinely feel that for a creative person small is beautiful.''

Jyoti harbours no ambitions of setting up another mega retail outlet. In fact, she is considering downsizing further. ``After all,'' she says, ``one should enjoy work.'' And what about the money? ``I just want enough returns to pay my dues and have something left for myself.''

What this ``something'' is, points out psychiatrist Dr. Sharma, varies for each individual; but, often, it is a lot lesser than the individual realises. He says, ``All of us get in the habit of prioritising our goals (both personal and professional) and then seeing that our work-life balance is in sync with our priorities.'' The proof of the pudding is in the eating. The good doctor has himself cut down on work and is exploring other career avenues. A case of the doctor taking his own prescription!

March to the off-beat

So your drummer is also tapping out a different beat but you are not sure you want to follow the new tune? Run through this quick checklist:

* Define your priorities:

Dr. Avdesh Sharma, psychiatrist, notes that all of us work for a purpose: money, power, family security, creativity or a combination of all these. One should prioritise the reasons for working and then evaluate whether they have been fulfilled. You might perhaps discover that you have already reached your material goals and can now turn to other, maybe spiritual, quests. Or, you might realise that money and power do not figure on top of your list. Or, you may decide that you want to ``achieve'' some more. Use the results of the stock-taking to chalk out your future plans.

* Put your finances in order:

That nice, fat pay cheque is going to disappear the day you quit your job, so you better make sure there is enough fuel to keep the home fires burning. Do work out the financial implications of your move. Even if you are willing to make do with less money ensure that you have a dependable source of income.

* Consult your family:

While you may be ready for the move, your family may not. You cannot expect them to instinctively understand your yearning for the great open spaces. You will have to sensitise them to your needs and seek their approval. They, too, will have to find their space in your scheme of things. The former adman, Ganesh Eashwar, categorically stated, ``I would have never come down this road, this far, without the steadfast support of my family.'' He pointed out that the family had not shifted to the farm because they felt that would isolate their daughter, Vaaruni, from her peer group.

* Learn to say `no':

It isn't an all-or-nothing situation here. Even a few small steps go a long way towards restoring the work-life balance. You don't have to quit the job; just refuse the assignment which will keep you away from the family for the next two years. You don't have to go to the ancestral village; even shifting your residence to the city outskirts might satisfy your yearning to get close to Mother Nature. Try these balancing tricks before you take the plunge.