A Jan winter night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the winds of change.
The haunting strains of this ever popular Scorpion’s song has been running amok in my head for the last couple of weeks….ever since that young unemployed graduate Sidi Bouzid stood in the main square of his village , doused himself in petrol and set himself on fire.
As he ran helter skelter through the streets, screaming in agony before dying of his burns on 4th January, his shrieks awakened something…that was stirring restlessly in its sleep for decades. As he breathed his last he bequeathed his life on to something that was waiting behind the curtains…..awaiting its grand entry. Waiting for that someone somewhere to decide that it was enough and that it cannot be taken any more…..
The embers from his lifeless form caught on…..setting hearts on fire. One…. Two…. Three… till it stumbled upon critical mass… and the inferno beckoned the future.
The future’s in the air
I can feel it everywhere
blowing with the wind of change
Even well trained, die hard soldiers lowered their guns. Citadels of power crumbled. Bastions of tyranny imploded and the dreaded, tormentors fled for dear life. Moving from threshold to door….begging for sanctuary. As a nation rejoiced.
As an ardent student of change management, I have always tried to touch and feel the magic of the drivers of change. Some undefined thresholds that get breached somehow starting that slow and steady fall of the dominoes.
That threshold that was breached once again by Sidi and will be by many like him again…..
So many things to be changed. Within us and without. Bad habits. Bad attitudes, Bad systems.
How far are we from the thresholds? And where could Sidi be?
Still Working as a vegetable merchant,
Still staring at that crackling matchstick?
Take me to the magic of the moment
on a glory night
where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change
(This song just refuses to let go)