Dr Arun Prakash
Let me start with a story—a personal one, drawn from my own family. Years ago, I visited my brother-in-law in Delhi. Now, he isn’t your run-of-the-mill person. Starting his career as a diploma engineer in Pune, he worked his way up to become the procurement wizard of the automobile industry. Along the way, he completed professional courses, built a vast network, and eventually became a senior leader in a multinational corporation. If ever there was a “rags to riches” story, his would be it—complete with the power, aura, and, of course, the lifestyle to match.
But here’s what struck me during my stay. His schedule was relentless. Waking up at 5 a.m., he would drive over an hour to Gurgaon, spend the day crisscrossing the NCR for work, and return home late at night, only to supervise additional tasks until the wee hours. No weekends. No holidays. Just sheer focus and drive.
I probed further, curious whether this grind was company mandated. Turns out, it wasn’t. Others in similar roles enjoyed a more relaxed pace. So why was he working this hard? The answer was simple—he didn’t know any other way of being.
While his friends lounged at tea stalls discussing politics and cricket, he was burning the midnight oil, learning something new, solving problems, and inching closer to his goals. For him, work wasn’t a chore; it was a calling. He was living proof of something my father-in-law used to say: “चैन से मरने के लिए ज़िंदगी भर का चैन खोना पड़ता है”—to die peacefully, you must sacrifice a lifetime of peace.
The 70-Hour Workweek Debate: A Misunderstanding?
Fast forward to today’s headlines: Narayana Murthy, one of India’s most celebrated entrepreneurs, advocates for a 70-hour workweek. S.N. Subrahmanyan, a corporate leader, expresses surprise that people don’t work Sundays. Social media explodes. Critics accuse them of promoting exploitation, while some applaud their vision.
But here’s the catch—Murthy and Subrahmanyan weren’t imposing this on others. They weren’t demanding every employee work 70+ hours a week. What they were pointing out is this: for people with fire in their belly, work doesn’t feel like a burden. It’s passion, purpose, and play rolled into one. They weren’t referring to routine 9-to-5 jobs; they were talking about those who dream big, work tirelessly, and see no difference between weekdays and weekends when chasing their vision.
Is It Really About the Hours?
This debate reminds me of my early teaching days at DPS Korba, a school tucked away in the NTPC township of Madhya Pradesh (now Chhattisgarh). Classes started at 7:15 a.m., but buses often dropped children off as early as 6:15. The school was deserted that early, save for the security guard. It didn’t sit well with me. Had I left my siblings in such a situation, I would’ve been worried sick.
So, I decided to be the first one at school and the last to leave. Nobody told me to do it. It wasn’t in my job description. But something inside me insisted. Parents began noticing, students felt safer, and an unspoken bond developed between us. If my principal had officially assigned this duty, I might have protested, seeing it as an imposition. But because it was my choice, it became a source of immense satisfaction.
This is what Murthy and Subrahmanyan were getting at. They were not suggesting exploitation but talking about the relentless drive to create, achieve, and contribute. When you’re deeply invested in something, you don’t count hours—you lose yourself in the process.
The Artist’s Mindset: Working Beyond Time
Think of a painter engrossed in crafting a masterpiece. Hours slip by unnoticed. Hunger, fatigue, and the world outside fade away. That’s the kind of immersion Murthy and Subrahmanyan were describing. It’s not about coercing a signboard painter to work 90 hours a week; it’s about the artist so captivated by their vision that work becomes its own reward.
Similarly, when Anand Mahindra, who diplomatically emphasized work-life balance, speaks about his schedule, I’d wager he clocks over 100 hours a week—but it’s work he loves. The dopamine rush from building companies, innovating, and leading gives him satisfaction beyond measure.
The Real Question: Passion, Not Paycheques
This isn’t about employers demanding more hours. It’s about individuals asking themselves: “Am I working just for a paycheque, or am I pursuing something bigger?” The giants who advocate for long hours—Murthy, Subrahmanyan, and even Mahindra—are trying to communicate one thing: passion doesn’t have an off switch.
Of course, work-life balance is important. Nobody should burn out or miss out on life’s precious moments. But balance isn’t the same for everyone. For some, it’s spending weekends with family; for others, it’s pouring their heart into building a dream. Look at Sudha Murthy, a celebrated author and philanthropist. Her life is an example of balance alongside relentless effort. If the Murthys can find fulfilment, so can others.
Why Is the World the Way It Is?
When I reflect on Murthy’s statements, I see less of a prescription and more of a question. “Why is the world the way it is when it could be so much better?” To dreamers, doers, and creators, the status quo is never enough. They aren’t working long hours because someone told them to—they’re doing it because they can’t imagine not doing so. It’s a mindset, not a mandate.
The world changes because of people who refuse to accept it as it is. Whether it’s an entrepreneur, a teacher arriving early at school, or a brother-in-law driving across Delhi to learn and grow, the common thread is purpose. And when you have purpose, time becomes secondary.
So, the next time someone debates the merits of a 70-hour workweek, ask this: Are we talking about the hours or the passion? Because if you truly love what you do, you might just wonder, as I do, why the world isn’t working harder to be its best.