The importance of understanding your customer Part II

I woke up with a sudden jolt and a tad disoriented. I hadn't had a proper sleep for more than 40 hours and perhaps that could have been the reason that after the sudden awakening I was still trying to ascertain where I was. After several seconds, I realized I was in a truck with my partner in crime and the subject of this article - Trilok Singh. Just a couple hours earlier I had enjoyed a few pegs of country liquor and some chicken and dal with Trilokji, and now in the middle of the dense dacoit infested jungles of Madhya Pradesh (a large state situated right in the middle of India), our truck had come to a halt. Trilokji who thankfully was not driving after some indulgent drinking asked me to relax as they were only waiting for the conclave of vehicles reach a battalion like size of around forty to fifty which would help cover the treacherous distance of around 25 kilometres by driving in unison and thus avoid the danger of dacoits attacking them. In size laid the strength of surviving the ambush.

This is not an article on how to combat highway robberies but is the second part of my writing on the importance of understanding your customer. My quest to understand the needs and the mind of this much maligned and ignored consumer - the quintessential Indian truck driver had begun a couple of weeks earlier as we sat in the large Reliance Board room at Reliance Centre, Ballard Estate - Mumbai. The meeting was led by Hital Meswani, younger of the Meswani brothers who are nephews of the legendary Dhirubhai Ambani. Hitalbhai as he was called was a part of the Reliance Industries Board and was now spearheading the companies foray into retail. This was early 2002. We were discussing our value proposition for the truck driver for whom we were attempting to replicate a popular American highway service model of a Truck PLAZA - a place where all his needs would be looked after in a clean, cost effective environment. This was to be the key differentiator as Reliance set about building fuel pumps across the length and breadth of India.

However this was not the ?rst meeting we were having on the subject of value proposition. This seemed to be somewhere close to a hundredth meeting but was the most signi?cant one as it came soon after the core Reliance petroleum retail team of which I was a part had a meeting with THE Dhirubhai Ambani. During the meeting, while Mukeshbhai was trying to tell his papa that all truck plazas will have a shower facility, restaurant, charpoys (coir beds) and TV room for the truck driver, Dhirubhai wanted to make sure that alcohol would be served to the driver. He insisted very vehemently that alcohol along with simple and hygienic food would be the key in getting the trucker to spend both time and money at our plazas. Also Dhirubhai insisted that our plazas serve meat, something which was in stark contrast to the “Gujju Bania” culture at Reliance. While it was neither a legal nor an ethical possibility to serve alcohol, serving meat was a dictat from the man himself which even his son and heir could not ignore. I could only marvel at the progressive thinking and insight of the man. This also got me thinking that while it was easy to sit in meeting rooms and debate what we should offer a trucker, a better option would be to meet and interview truckers. No hang on, I wanted to go further, I wanted to personally experience a truck drivers life when he covers the not so friendly highways of India.

So I decided that I will spend time in a truck covering a long distance freight assignment. The earliest such route that I could manage to jump onto was from Mumbai to Kota in Rajasthan which was being arranged through one of our internal contacts. And I agreed to take it up, a bit anxious but a lot excited. Also I decided not to carry my cell phone with me so that my undivided attention was on the man of moment - the truck driver.

It was early February so I had anticipated that as we traversed up north the temperature will only drop further but I had not factored how signi?cantly it would drop. I was to learn the harsh reality only later. We were scheduled to leave Vashi on the outskirts of Mumbai on the afternoon of day 1 so that we reach Kota late night on day 2. Just a solitary night in the truck was not going to be that bad I thought. But it was close to 9 pm when we were eventually able to leave Vashi, - so after spending many frustrating hours waiting to leave, we ?nally took off. The truck was carrying some hardware stuff and my driver was a sixty year old tweedy Sardarji called Trilok Singh. Later did I realise that he was only around forty-eight years old, but life on the highway had plastic- surgered him by more than a decade without him having to go under the knife. Life sucks doesn't it? There were several plastic surgeons waiting for Trilok Singh on this journey. The ?rst one we encountered within the first few hours of our start was the toll cum Octroi naka (local tax check point) just as we were getting into a new district. After parking and waiting for his turn with no avail, Trilokji was forced to grease the palms of a few o?cials until we got the clearance certi?cate. It took nearly three hours and it was now around 3 in the morning. The Indian highways are infested with numerous sordid characters whose only goal in life is to make money at the expense of the poor and the helpless. This was my ?rst learning. Even though the waiting had diminished my energy levels a bit and while I was determined not to sleep, I couldn't help dozing off. I got up to ?nd Trilokji and his back up driver cum cleaner having tea at a roadside stall. It was 7 am and my ?rst reaction was shit- I have missed a good 200 kms out of the 800 kms journey I was on. No....we were just about beyond Vashi and had covered only sixty kilometres in almost seven hours of driving. Lesson number 2.

Luckily I hadn't eaten much the previous night so my stomach was holding well and I did not have to venture out to ?gure out a venue for a dump. I joined my prospective customer for some chai (Indian tea) and biscuits and then we set sail. I got chatting with Trilokji who was a little slow in opening up as he was unsure what I was doing inside his truck. I was not too sure myself what his owner had told him as the objective of my jaunt with him, but I made some effort to explain it myself. I started by telling him about myself, my family, my education and my professional quali?cations and then precisely why I was being a pest. Then I had to explain to him what Reliance was planning to offer. The ?rst part he understood quickly, but the latter part he just could not imagine. He thought I was pulling his leg and I was making a mockery of his daily life. It took some time for him to believe in what I was saying and it was only then that he started opening up. Another reason why he warmed up to me faster than he perhaps would have was our choice of food. I realised that on the highway there are two warring food factions - Vaishnav which is a pure vegetarian dhaba and the movie hyped non vegetarian tandoor dhaba. Both of us belonged to the latter variety. Dhirubhai couldn't have been more precise......but we would have to make sure the kitchens would be separate and by a mile or more at our Plaza. Lesson number 3.

Now with Trilokji an extrovert and an exuberant personality, I could garner some amazing insights about what a truck driver goes through on our roads. Firstly they are away from their families 350 out of 365 days....and that too if they are lucky to have a compassionate owner. They de?nitely do not want their kids to lead the same life that they have lead. This is true for most blue collared and manual labourers of today. So while it is important that highway facilities offer some semblance of comfort, a bigger draw would be to bring their families under the common umbrella. “Own your consumer for a lifetime” which is the mantra and no better way than to provide free education and medical care for their family for life. While I couldn’t implement this as a part of our strategy at Reliance plaza, I have practised this in my personal life. My personal driver who worked with me for five years had four daughters. Their school fees and medical costs were paid for by my family. And we always do so with all our family helps.

By late afternoon on Day 2, we had crossed into Madhya Pradesh and the temperature was now uncomfortably cold. In spite of the closed windows, I could feel the cold breeze and the accompanying dust blasting my face. Trilokji and his assistant were well covered with a cloth on their face but here I was – a city boy struggling to fight the cold. We halted for dinner at a dhaba which was the one regularly frequented by Trilokji. Loyalty counts on the highway. Trilokji and his assistant stopped at familiar and pre-determined places only – places which they had used for the last many years – for tea, snacks, meal or even just to stretch on a charpoy. It was the same place they had used over the years. The reason was simple – the hassle free, quick and reliable service they received. Lesson number 4 learnt. Trilokji had been behind the wheel ever since we left almost twenty four hours ago. It was time for him to loosen up a bit. So he picked up a 500 ml bottle of liquor for himself and one for me. He refused to take money from me and insisted that I enjoy the same brand that he was drinking, making sure that he had upgraded himself to avoid exposing my liver to the poisonous stuff he was used to drinking every time he travelled. We ordered some chicken and Indian bread with dal and stretched ourselves on a charpoy to enjoy our drink and the food. Alcohol in my stomach was the only thing that could have kept the cold away from destroying me.

The salary earned by these drivers is a pittance. They manage to survive due to a couple of perks associated with their work. Firstly food is paid for by most owners. But I guess, the quality is always an issue given the hygiene standards along the Indian highways. Secondly they are given a lump sum amount of cash to manage the vultures along the route. The more experienced and street smart drivers are able to negotiate these people better and are thus able to retain some cash that comes from the money saved. This supplements their wages and they survive on the same. Some of the more dishonest and desperate drivers also earn by way of ferrying people on their truck en route. All in all a tough existence. I would rather say that tough is an understatement if you look at the conditions they go through. I am sure the trucking company must have ensured that I went through a relatively comfortable route since I was an Executive travelling for a study. But I just could not imagine what was worse than what I saw Trilokji experiencing.

While I stayed alert during the entire stretch of that dacoit infested twenty five kilometres, I was fast asleep by the time we halted for a break next morning which was Day 3 of our journey. We had entered Rajasthan and after the usual haggling and bribing the officials, Trilokji and his partner had stopped for a well-deserved break. We had stopped at a decent sized road side Dhaba and quite confidently I was expecting a brick walled toilet to relieve myself. The alcohol and food of the previous night did not allow me to escape using the toilet. But there was no toilet. I had to find a spot somewhere in the open and have a go. And I had a go. It was bloody cold…..perhaps not more than 3 degrees or so. We had a simple breakfast of parathas and both drivers ventured to an open brick water pond for a bath. I had not showered for more than two days but since the weather was pleasant, I was not smelling very unpleasant. However I decided to have a shower myself. Since it is an open pond, most drivers have a bath with clothes on and just dry themselves by stretching out on the charpoy. I decided to do to same but when I took the first splashes of water, I froze, literally. The outside temperature and the breeze was uncomfortable and the water was unbearably cold. While the rest were used to this and putting up a brave face, I struggled. It was a painful experience but I had a bath looking up at the sun from whom I hoped to draw both heat and inspiration. The worst was yet to come as drying was possible only the natural way. Try taking a cold water bath and lay on a bed with the fan full blast and the air conditioning also on. You will appreciate the experience and understand what I went through. The rest of the journey was a quiet affair and by the time we reached Kota it was almost 9 pm on day 3.

I got off the truck and thanked Trilokji for his company over the three days and also offered him some cash. He refused at first not sure what the implications would be but in the end relented after my persuasion. Interestingly, just before we had come to the end of our journey, Trilokji had started a guessing game. He wanted to know my salary which was nothing substantial at that time given that I was mid-level executive with around 7 years of work experience. I was of course sheepish to indicate the number but he started guessing. The naivety of the gentlemen only made me feel terrible as even after several minutes he was nowhere close to the real figure and I had to stop him and agree to the last number. They are so cut off from the city life and unaware of how their owners and the rich class in general tend to exploit the uneducated manual labourers in India. This was perhaps the biggest insight from this trip