Fall From the High Point
1

Extroverts have all the fun. So they say. But introverts know that it is not true. Only our idea of fun is different. Getting drunk and boisterous without knowing why and cheering in a concert hall or a sports stadium till we are hoarse is not our game. We enjoy intense discussions on serious topics plaguing the mankind with or without reaching an agreement. The idea of fun is one where the twains – introverts and extroverts – will never meet.
The discussions are usually held over lunch. We set the topic of discussion in advance, read all we can get hold of on the subject, mull over the material, come to some conclusions and prepare arguments to support them. The discussions are often heated, certainly hotter than the tepid bisque served in the “always open” modest diner we meet in. In younger days I had a large number of friends and such meetings were frequent. In recent years, retirement has claimed many of them and I am lucky if I can find a guest once a month. In some ways it is good. It helps me lose weight as I lose height with growing years.
Ravi is the person I lock horns with most often. I first met him thirty five years ago when he moved a few doors away from where I lived in a community of middle class young professionals and hopeful business managers. He had a lovely wife who got along well with mine, perhaps because they were both from Peru and could talk to each other in Spanish. Each of the families had two girls of similar ages who played well together. I worked then, as I do now, with two other architects specializing in renovations and small buildings. Not much has changed, not in my professional career any way. Ravi, on the other hand, had a remarkable career. He was brought to Canada by a small service company with big plans. His expertise was in designing innovative software to help in exploration of oil and gas. Ravi had big plans for himself too. For a change from my other stories this one is not about me. This is about Ravi, his rise and fall.
We had our last meeting a couple of weeks ago. We resolved the housing crisis south of the border and disagreed about the impact it will have on the price of our homes. We were heading for the cars when Ravi looked at my truck and asked whether I could help in moving his desk and chair from his office to the basement of his home. I agreed without the slightest hesitation and the date and time convenient to both of us was readily agreed upon. On my drive back to work his amazing career occupied my thoughts.
Much happened to Ravi during the years and I have watched it with some amazement. A year or two after we had met he came over for coffee one weekend morning. When we had made ourselves comfortable in the den with mugs of steaming Kona coffee in our hands he threw the opening gambit in the conversation, “You won’t believe what I have done.”
“I don’t know whether I will or not. You have to tell me first.”
“I have resigned from my job. I am starting a consulting business in oil industry.”
“No I don’t believe it. You can’t do something so foolish. You couldn’t have considered it fully. Monica is a full-time homemaker, you have two little girls in elementary school, you have just moved into an expensive home. I guess you have a big mortgage.”
“You are right on the details. To add to these we have very little in the bank.”
“Not only that, you have been in the country only two years and I don’t imagine you have all that many business contacts. You don’t seem to be the type to have a mentor. You being brown does not help in this country either.”
“You are bang on with the negatives. Mind you, there are a few positives too.”
“Tell me. I am all ears.”
“I have worked in five countries and my broad international experience is an asset. Unlike most consultants in business I have studied and worked in all aspects of geophysical exploration. Published research has given me some exposure.”
“That is all fine. Have you got anything lined up to put food on the table next month? You are always welcome here of course.”
“I hope it won’t come to that. My former employers in Denver have offered a lucrative, though short, assignment. I will use this time to drum up some local work.”
“What does Monica think about it?”
“I explained all this to her. She listened very patiently and agreed. She thought it was worth a try if I wanted to do it so bad.”
“You have a gem of a wife. I know many women who will kill their husbands for less.”
“I know Monica is a treasure.”

2

Monica made a suggestion that Ravi worked out of home office to begin with but he brushed it aside. He subleased a small office space on the ninth floor of the building downtown. It had two rooms, one for him and another for a helper if and when he could afford one. “Farsighted guy, he will go far,” I thought when he told me this. As it turned out, he needed a technical assistant a few months later and I recommended him a good candidate who had applied to our firm. The business expanded rapidly. Four years later I renovated two thousand square feet for his eight employees, five professionals and three support staff. One evening I saw a marvelous view of sunset over the Rockies from his seventeenth floor corner office. I felt sorry for my friend because I did not believe that he had either time or inclination to appreciate such niceties. He occupied that space for five years.
A gas station in our community went out of business. It was an attractive building on a large lot. One evening over beer on his patio Ravi asked whether it would be feasible to convert the existing facility into an office space of four thousand square feet with the mortgage payment about the same as the rent he was paying then. A month later I presented the plans and the cost estimates. I could use the existing facilities almost as they were and add two floors of office space where the gas tank had been. Ravi was delighted and the construction started soon after. He moved into the converted gas station the following year. A year later I built for him another building on the lot where Monica opened her medical practice with two doctor colleagues. Two other doctors and a small lab occupied the upstairs floor. Ravi and Monica had the only ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ pair of buildings in town. At this point, his consulting operation had seven professionals, three technicians and an office manager. His reputation in the industry was such that the size, revenue and profitability of his business stayed at this level for several years with only minor fluctuations in spite of notorious ups and downs in the oil industry. Unbeknown to either of us this was the crest in the trajectory of his business career. Then the gods turned against him and made him proud.

3

I arrived at my cubicle and forgot all about Ravi’s story till the time I helped in his move. After we had set up the desk and chairs and hooked up his computer system, Monica asked whether I had time for a slice of pecan pie she had baked that morning. “Only if it comes with plenty of whipped cream and a cup of Tetley’s tea,” I cheekily replied. Ravi and I sat across the desk waiting for refreshments when he told me some things about his career I had not known before. These filled the holes in the story I had in my mind. It is a long tale. I will spare you the details and only touch the salient points.
Ravi had set up a registered retirement savings plan (RRSP) soon after his arrival in Canada to take advantage of deferred tax on contributions to the plan. At first, his investment activities were restricted to this, “if only because that was the only money I had” he told me. Call it beginner’s luck, his investments did well. A few years later he was buying shares with the money left over from business operations. A few grand failures excepted, these investments were productive too. Then came a point at which investment income was comparable to that from consulting operations. I now quote him because I can not bring myself to believe it. “This is when business sense left me and vanity took over. I began to believe that I could do no wrong and it was time to diversify the operations into fields I only had superficial knowledge of” He acquired exploration rights over two large areas, one for oil and gas and the other for iron ore. I remember his excitement at that time and him telling any body who would listen all the technical reasons in excruciating detail for expecting huge deposits there. On my wife’s advice I kept the cheque book in the drawer but a few of his other friends with gambling in their blood put some of their retirement funds in the so-called high risk/high reward, in my opinion all risk/no reward, projects. Years later Ravi had this to tell me: “While the ventures were sheer folly they were nothing compared to my decision to give up the lucrative consulting business. With no flow of spare funds from this business the cash eventually ran out. After several years of hard work and an expenditure of considerable amount of money, both ventures had to be folded. Not only did I lose money, I lost face as well, although the generous partners stayed on congenial terms.”
When the consulting business was put to bed, the building was too large for the remaining operations. An accounting firm made a reasonable offer for the property which, after much heartache, Ravi accepted. He first leased a two thousand square feet space with five offices for five years, then moved to twelve hundred square feet with three offices for two years and relocated again to eight hundred square feet with two offices for four years shedding employees at each stage. Let me use his words for the final stroke of fortune, “2008 stock market meltdown heaped the ultimate ignominy on me. The account with the money leftover in my corporation and Monica’s medical practice was entirely wiped out. I laid off my last employee, the long term office manager, and now I have had to move my desk and computer to the basement of our home.”
I should have been more understanding of the weight of melancholy my dear friend was under. Instead I was inwardly gloating about the wisdom of staying in the same cubicle doing the same job till my days were done. “How does it feel to fall from the high point in the trajectory to the prospect of working on retirement funds in the basement?” I asked.
“Even though I will not miss the grind of daily commute, I can not get rid of the sense of failure. If any of my operations had succeeded and I had retired to the basement after handing the business over to a successor, I would have an upbeat sense of having created something which outlasted me. Now when I look in the mirror I see a man who thought he was great only to discover that greatness is not assumed but bestowed by proven success.”
“This is all so sad. I am really sorry for you.”
A smile lit up Ravi’s face, “No need to be sorry dear friend. The sense of failure is ephemeral. In spite of everything I have love and respect of a wife and two daughters, high achievers all.That makes up for my business failures and I am content.”