Story of INFOSYS Birth.

Story narrated by SUDHA MURTHY

> I was in Pune that I met Narayana Murthy through my
> friend Prasanna, who is
> now the Wipro chief, who was also training in Telco.
> Murthy was shy,
> bespectacled and an introvert. When he invited us
> for dinner, I was a bit
> taken aback... I refused since I was the only girl
> in the group. But Murthy
> was relentless and we all decided to meet for dinner
> the next day at 7.30 pm
> at Green Fields Hotel on Pune's Main Road. The next
> day, I went there at
> seven since I had to go to the tailor near the
> hotel. And what do I see?
>
> Mr. Murthy waiting in front of the hotel and it was
> only seven. Till today,
> Murthy maintains that I had mentioned (consciously!)
> that I would be going
> to the tailor at seven, so that I could meet him...
> And I maintain that I
> did not say any such thing, consciously or
> subconsciously, because I did not
> think of Murthy as anything other than a friend at
> that stage. We have
> agreed to disagree on this matter. Soon, we became
> friends. Our
> conversations were filled with Murthy's experiences
> abroad and the books
> that he had read. My friends insisted that Murthy
> was trying to impress me
> because he was interested in me. I kept denying it
> till one day, after
> dinner, Murthy said, I want to tell you something. I
> knew this was it. It
> was coming. He said, I am 5'4" tall. I come from a
> lower middleclass family.
> I can never become rich. You are beautiful, bright,
> and intelligent and you
> can get anyone you want. But will you marry me? I
> asked him to give me some
> time.
>
> When I went to Hubli, I told my parents about Murthy
> and his proposal. My
> mother was positive since Murthy was also from
> Karnataka, seemed intelligent
> and came from a good family. But my father asked,
> "What's his job, his
> salary, his qualifications, etc?" Murthy was working
> as a research assistant
> and earning less than me. He was willing to go Dutch
> with me on our outings.
>
> My parents agreed to meet him in Pune on a
> particular day at 10 am sharp.
> Murthy did not turn up. How can I trust a man to
> take care of my daughter if
> he cannot keep an appointment, asked my father. At
> 12 noon, Murthy turned
> up in a bright red shirt! He had gone on work to
> Bombay, got stuck in a
> traffic jam in the ghats, so he hired a taxi (though
> it was very expensive
> for him) to meet his would-be father-in-law. Father
> was unimpressed. He
> asked Murthy what he wanted to become in life.
> Murthy said he wanted to
> become a politician in the Communist Party and
> wanted to open an orphanage.
> My father gave his verdict. No. I don't want my
> daughter to marry somebody
> who wants to become a communist and then open an
> orphanage when he himself
> doesn't have money to support his family.
>
> By this time, I realized I had developed a liking
> towards Murthy, which
> could only be termed as love. I wanted to marry him
> because he was an honest
> man. I promised my father that I would not marry
> Murthy without his
> blessings, though at the same time, I would not
> marry anybody else. My
> father said he would agree if Murthy promised to
> take up a steady job. But
> Murthy refused, saying he would not do things in
> life because somebody
> wanted him to.
>
> I was caught between the two most important people
> in my life. The stalemate
> continued for three years, during which our
> courtship took us to every
> restaurant and cinema hall in Pune. Murthy was
> always broke. (Ironically,
> today, he manages Infosys Technologies Ltd, one of
> the world's most reputed
> companies.) He always owed me money. We used to go
> for dinner and he would
> say, I don t have money with me, you pay my share,
> will return it to you
> later. For three years, I maintained a book of
> Murthy's debts to me. No, he
> never returned the money and I finally tore it up
> after our wedding. The
> amount was a little over Rs.4,000. During this
> period, Murthy quit his job
> as a research assistant and started his own software
> business.
>
> Towards the late'70s computers were entering India
> in a big way. At the fag
> end of 1977, Murthy decided to take up a job as
> General Manager at Patni
> Computers in Bombay. But before he joined the
> company, he wanted to marry
> me. since he was to go on training to the US after,
> joining. My father gave
> in as he was happy Murthy had a decent job, now. We
> were married in Murthy's
> house in Bangalore on February 10, 1978, with only
> our two families present.
> I got my first silk sari. The wedding expenses came
> to only Rs 800, with
> Murthy and I pooling in Rs 400 each. I went to the
> US with Murthy after
> marriage. He encouraged me to see America on my own,
> because I loved
> traveling. I toured America for three months with a
> backpack.
>
> In 1981,Murthy wanted to start Infosys. Initially, I
> was very apprehensive
> about him getting into business. We were living a
> comfortable life in Bombay
> with a regular paycheck and I didn't want to rock
> the boat. But Murthy was
> passionate about creating good quality software. I
> decided to support him.
> Typically for Murthy, he had a dream and no money.
> So I gave him Rs 10,000
> which I had saved for a rainy day without his
> knowledge and told him, this
> is all I have. Take it. I will take care of the
> financial needs of our
> house. You go and chase your dreams. But you have
> only three years!
>
> Murthy and his six colleagues started Infosys in
> 1981. In 1982, I left Telco
> and moved to Pune with Murthy. We bought a small
> house on loan, which also
> became the Infosys office. I was a
> clerk-cum-cook-cum-programmer. I also
> took up a job as Senior Systems Analyst with the
> Walchand group of
> Industries to support the house.
>
> In'83, Infosys got their first client, MICO, in
> Bangalore. Murthy moved to
> Bangalore and stayed with his mother, while I went
> to Hubli to deliver my
> second child, Rohan. Ten days after my son was born,
> Murthy left for the US
> on project work. I saw him only after a year - my
> son had infantile eczema.
> It was only after Rohan received all his
> vaccinations that I came to
> Bangalore where we rented a small house in Jayanagar
> and rented another
> house as Infosys headquarters.
>
> Nandan Nilekani and his wife Rohini stayed with us.
> While Rohini babysat my
> son, I wrote programmes for Infosys. There was no
> car, no phone, just two
> kids and a bunch of us working hard, juggling our
> lives and having fun while
> Infosys was taking shape. The wives of other
> partners too, gave their
> unstinting support. We all knew that our men were
> trying to build something
> good.
>
>
> Murthy made it very clear that it would either be me
> or him working at
> Infosys. Never the two of us together. He did not
> want a husband and Wife
> team at Infosys. I was shocked since I had the
> relevant experience and
> technical qualifications. He said, "Sudha if you
> want to work with Infosys,
> I will withdraw happily". I was pained to know that
> I would not be involved
> in the company my husband was building and that I
> would have to give up a
> job that I was qualified to do and loved doing.
>
> Then, I realized that to make Infosys a success, one
> had to give 100
> Percent. One had to be focused on it alone, with no
> other distractions. If
> the two of us had to give 100 percent to Infosys,
> what would happen to our
> home and our children? I opted to be a homemaker;
> after all, Infosys was
> Murthy's dream. It was a big sacrifice, but it was
> one that had to be made.
> Even today, Murthy says, "Sudha, I stepped on your
> career to make mine. You
> are responsible for my success."
>
> I might have given up my career for my husband's
> sake, but that does Not
> make me a doormat. Isn't freedom about living your
> life the way you want it?
> What is right for one person might be wrong for
> another. It is up to the
> individual to make a choice that is effective in her
> life. I believe that
> when a woman gives up her right to choose for
> herself, that is when she
> crosses over from being an individual to a doormat.
>
> Murthy's dreams encompassed not only himself, but
> also a generation of
> people. It was about creating something worthy,
> exemplary and honorable. It
> was about creation and distribution of wealth. His
> dreams were grander than
> my career plans, in all aspects. So, when I had to
> choose between Murthy's
> career and mine, I opted for what I thought was the
> right choice. We had a
> home and two little children. Somebody had to take
> care of it all. Somebody
> had to stay behind to create a home base that would
> be fertile for healthy
> growth, happiness, and more dreams to dream. I
> became that somebody
> willingly.
>
> I can confidently say that if I had had a dream like
> Infosys, Murthy would
> have given me his unstinted support. The roles would
> have been reversed. We
> are not bound by the archaic rules of marriage. He
> does not intrude into my
> time, especially when I am writing my novels. He
> does not interfere in my
> work at the Infosys Foundation and I don't interfere
> with the running of
> Infosys. I teach computer science to MBA and MCA
> students at Christ College
> for a few hours every week and I earn around Rs
> 50,000 a year. I value this
> financial independence greatly, though there is no
> need for me to pursue a
> career. Murthy respects that. I travel the world
> without him, because he
> hates traveling. We trust each other implicitly. We
> have another
> understanding too. While he earns the money, I spend
> it mostly through
> charity.
>
> The Infosys Foundation was born in 1997 with the
> sole objective of uplifting
> the less-privileged sections of society. In the past
> three years, we have
> built hospitals, orphanages, rehabilitation centers,
> school buildings,
> science centres and more than 3,500 libraries. Our
> work is mainly in the
> rural areas amongst women and children. I am one of
> the trustees of the
> Foundation, and our activities span six states. I
> travel to around 800
> villages constantly. Every year, we donate around Rs
> 5-6 crores. We run
> Infosys Foundation the way Murthy runs Infosys - in
> a professional and
> scientific way. Philanthropy is a profession and an
> art. It can be used or
> misused. Every year, we receive more than 10,000
> applications for donations.
> Every day, I receive more than 120 calls. Amongst
> these, there are those who
> genuinely need help and there are hoodwinkers too.
> Over the years, I have
> learnt to differentiate the wheat from the chaff,
> though I still give all
> the cases a patient hearing. Sometimes, I feel I
> have lost the ability to
> trust people. I have become shrewder to avoid being
> conned. I think that is
> the price that I have to pay for the position I am
> in now.
>
> The greatest difficulty in having money is to teach
> your children its value.
> Bringing up children in a moneyed atmosphere is a
> difficult task. Even
> today, I think twice if I have to spend Rs 10 on an
> auto when I can walk to
> my house. I cannot expect my children to do the
> same. They have seen money
> from the time they were born. But we can lead by
> example. When they see
> Murthy wash his own plate after eating and clean the
> two toilets in the
> house every day they realize that no work is
> demeaning, irrespective of how
> rich you are. This doesn't mean we expect our
> children to live an austere
> life. My children buy what they want, go where they
> want, but they have to
> follow certain rules. They have to show me bills for
> whatever they buy: My
> daughter can buy five new outfits, but she has to
> giveaway five old ones. My
> son can go out with his friends for lunch or dinner,
> but we discourage him
> from going to a five star hotel. Or we accompany
> him. My children haven't
> given me any heartbreak. My daughter is studying
> abroad, my son in
> Bangalore. They don't use their father's name in
> vain. They only say that
> his name is Murthy and that he works for Infosys.
> They don't want to be
> recognized and appreciated because of their father
> or me, but for
> themselves.
>
> I don't feel guilty about having money, for we have
> worked hard for it. But
> I don't feel comfortable flaunting it. It is a
> conscious decision on our
> part to live a simple, so-called middle class life.
> We live in the same
> two-bedroom, sparsely furnished house we lived in
> before Infosys became a
> success. Our only extravagance is buying books and
> CDs. My house has no
> lockers for I have no jewels. I wear a pair of stone
> earrings, which I
> bought in Bombay for Rs 100. I don't even wear my
> `mangalsutra` unless I
> need to attend some family functions or when I am
> with my mother-in-law.
>
> Five years ago, I went to Kashi, where tradition
> demands that you give
> something up. I gave up shopping. Since then, I
> haven't bought myself a
> sari or gone shopping. I don't carry a purse and
> neither does Murthy, most
> of the time. I borrow money from my secretary or my
> driver if I need cash.
> They know my habit, so they always carry extra cash
> with them. But I settle
> the accounts every evening. Murthy and I are very
> comfortable with our
> lifestyle and we don't see the need to change it now
> that we have money.
>
> Murthy and I are two opposites that complement each
> other. Murthy is
> sensitive and romantic in his own way. He always
> gifts books addressed 'From
> Me to You. Or' To the person I most admire' etc. We
> both love books. I am an
> extrovert and he is an introvert. I love watching
> movies and listening to
> classical music. Murthy loves listening to English
> classical music. I go
> out for movies with my students and secretary every
> other week. I am till
> young at heart. I really enjoyed watching 'Kaho Na
> Pyaar Hai'; I am a
> Hrithik Roshan fan. It has been more than 20 years
> since Murthy and I went
> for a movie. My daughter once gave us a surprise by
> booking tickets for
> 'Titanic'. Since I had a prior engagement that day,
> Murthy went for the
> movie with his secretary Pandu.
>
> I love traveling, whereas Murthy loves spending time
> at home. Friends come
> and go with the share prices. Even in my dreams, I
> did not expect Infosys to
> grow the way it has. After Infosys went public in
> 1993, we became what
> people would call rich, moneyed people. Suddenly,
> you see and hear about so
> much money: People talk about you. It was all-new to
> me. Have I lost my
> identity as a woman, in Murthy's shadow? No, I might
> be Mrs. Narayana
> Murthy. I might be Akshata and Rohan's mother. I
> might be the trustee of
> Infosys Foundation. But I am still Sudha. Like all
> women, I play different
> roles. That doesn't mean we don't have our own
> identity. Women have that
> extra quality of adaptability and learn to fit into
> different shoes. But we
> are our own selves still. And we have to exact our
> freedom by making the
> right choices in our lives, dictated by us and not
> by the world.