Taking off in the MBA Flight

In the beginning of the movie Batman Begins, when Bruce Wayne finally scales the mountain and reaches Ra's al Ghul, he is huffing and panting.

Ra’s: Are you ready to begin?

Bruce: I… I can barely stand.

And then he gets kicked to the ground. A couple of more blows later, Bruce finally starts to defend himself, puts up a fight, and eventually faints.

This is the welcome a b-school gives to you, once you scale the mountain called CAT.

I wasn’t oblivious to this. I have heard friends talk about it. Most of you must’ve heard this too. But it’s not the same thing. It’s like the Matrix; you can’t be told what it is, you have to see it for yourself.

The first couple of weeks aren’t so bad though, when the only thing turning up the heat on you is the Sun. You walk around in campus, and survey the crowds for what IT guys would call leads and opportunities. There is an aroma of new found freedom in the air, and a proclivity towards being irresponsible. 

And then out of nowhere, you are expected to be athletes. A multitude of races are laid in front of you, and your mind starts to spin.

Clubs. Committees. Presentations. Exams. Competitions. CV. Placements. Placements. Placements.

On the very first day, I remember a line from the induction ceremony: “Most of you here; your lives have been graced with success till now. But beware; a lot of you will experience failure here in some way or the other.”

His words started making sense soon enough.

The feeling of complete worthlessness is a phase through which almost every MBA student has to pass. Regardless of what you have achieved before b-school, or how inhumanly talented you are, you will break. There is no escaping it. Winning all the races is out of question.

Yet the fact that some seemingly do better than others is undeniable. Some have that extra spurt of energy for whatever they do. In fact, experienced folks start feeling like a hundred years old, when kids fresh out of grad school run around and speak with over-exuberance. “Who’s that jumpy kid? I hate that bastard.”

Needless to say, extroverts run riot. Poor introverts, especially those who lack self-esteem, are left to question if they even deserve being here. I belong to the latter, and ended up with zero club/committee selections. A couple of selection tasks required me to online propaganda, or write boring articles with fancy words so that it is apt for a newspaper. I blatantly refused. In fact, most tasks will make you ask yourself, “Do I really want to do this? Is this really my thing?” Most of the people do it anyway. While some merely believe they can do it, others would see the incentive – CV points.

The importance of CV points is understandable, when you realize that your batch is full of people like you. It’s not class 9^th anymore, where you were the only one who could speak amazingly fluent English, or write poetry, play football, or play guitar, or have 90+ percent marks in 10^th and 12^th standard. Or even have all of the above. (Actually, not having 90+ percent marks is a crime you’ll pay dearly for throughout this life and the next seven or eight lives.)

I digress. Having gone through the turmoil of this first term, with an internship secured for next summer, I have realized one thing. One may call it a cliché, but that’s why they’re called clichés. They’re lessons we need to learn again and again.

What we have on our resumes doesn’t differentiate us. It’s our attitude that does.

MBA teaches us this critical lesson. Everyone’s paths will be crossed by falls and failure, regardless of your resume. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve broken down like a child myself. But I did not lose faith, thanks to the unbelievable support of my parents. When it mattered, especially during the summer placements, I had it together. It’s what Yoda from Star Wars would call the Force. The invisible shield that acts as a cocoon against all fear, doubt and disbelief; and keeps moving forward.

A word ought to be said about the people. We humans have always shown great unity in adversity, and it is no different for Term 1. Every 1^st year would agree that the seniors made a phenomenal effort to ease our burden, and we’re all encouraged to follow suit next year for our successors.

Life in MBA till now has been like an aircraft taking off, without its passengers wearing seatbelts. Our insides have been properly shaken and stirred, and the plane is now stabilizing into an auto-pilot mode. Hereon, we can either take control and choose our destiny, or sit back and stick with the auto-pilot.

Hereon, the world is at our feet. 

A surprisingly happy post.

Yes, I'm writing again. I know I said I wouldn't blog again, but this week has inspired me to do this.

As a short catch up, I'm living in Mumbai now, working with Deloitte Consulting. The extent to which life has changed after coming here is so immense, that it I've decided to dedicate a completely different post to it. Let's fast forward a bit for now.

So about two months ago, I receive a mail from my college, informing me of the date and time of the convocation.

I'll be honest here. I was exasperated at the thought of going back to college. True, I wanted to catch up with my close friends, but the thought of getting those umpteen signatures and certificates was tiring itself. In any case, I had to go.

A few weeks later, I proudly purchased the flight tickets with my own money for the first time.

The initial apprehension began fading away as the day of my journey, November the 1st, inched closer. I believe this was largely due to the monotony of work for a prolonged period.

As a result, I was pretty excited while packing my bags the night before my journey, not because I was finally meeting my friends who I hadn't seen for about a year, but because this was a welcome break from work. And I hadn't even gone home for Diwali, which has never happened before.

If you're wondering how someone couldn't be insanely excited at the prospect of going to a convocation, then here's your answer. After spending six solitary months training in Baroda, I think I hardened up a few notches. Inured, as my friend Rishav quotes.

I headed off for Pulkit's home via the metro after landing in Delhi at around nine. But I changed my mind midway, and went to Gunjeet's instead, since it was already getting late and our cab to Patiala would be starting there itself.

Following a series of instructions from Gunjeet for reaching his house from the metro station, I felt as a guy going to rescue his girlfriend from a kidnapper. Since his parents were around, I couldn't exactly yell out nonsense (like I imagined I would) when I finally saw him and Mathur at the door. While catching up with both of them, I looked forward to the cab ride next morning.


Sadly, the ride to Patiala wasn't as entertaining as I'd hoped it would be. It was easy to figure out why. They (Gunjeet, Mathur, Pulkit, Nitin, Karan) were all used to running into each other every other month. This was nothing new. The only interesting part was Mathur's handwriting analysis. It's funny how everyone wants to know what they project to the world, irrespective of their i-don't-care-what-people-think attitude


From the moment I got off in college, I saw a similar pattern. The people I wanted to actually spend time with didn't even seem moderately interested in doing the same. But then evening came, and people seemed to come in torrents out of nowhere. Hugs and handshakes galore.


Yet again, the juniors were the more enthusiastic lot. Some of my batchmates were an absolute delight as well. You just know from that first look when you meet someone, that he/she is genuinely happy to see you again. And that feeling just gets better when it comes from someone unexpected.


So much in life depends on the choices we make. The following morning I chose not to do some formalities to get some money refunded. And the day after that, I didn't take our cab for Delhi. Two great decisions. Two perfect days.


I call this a surprisingly happy post. Usually during college, my image was that of a moody depressed guy. This week, looking at everybody, I felt like the happiest guy in the world.
Chatting away like a gossip girl, skipping meals and other comforts like sleeping, just to meet everyone. Some sacrifices are worth taking.


I think my experience would've been different had this convocation been 4 months ago. But thanks to Mumbai, I've been re-programmed. More on that in the next post.

What I miss about College

Today is 28th July, officially the last day in my college, Thapar University. People are celebrating the end of their exams, guys are getting clicked with every girl who as much as even looked at them once in their four years; roommates, old and new, are realising they never actually got themselves pictures with weird poses. The world looks as if it has gone from 16 bit colors to 250 million.

Me,  after my goodbyes.

At least that's what I could make out from facebook.


I'm sitting at home right now, looking at all those smiles and smileys, with a part of me wishing I was back there right now, just for a day, an hour, or even a minute. People commonly call that part a heart.


Yes, I know I went through all this six months ago. You'd think saying goodbye brings closure. Turns out it doesn't.


Earlier this month, I was going back home from Baroda in a Volvo. After the scheduled movie (Dum Maaro Dum) was over, the conductor shifted to songs, while I shifted to earphones. I thought I haven't opened my phone's gallery for a while, so I started exploring. 
There I stumbled upon some video clips from my last semester. I hadn't looked at them even once since I left, afraid of being hit with bouts of nostalgia.


Anyway, I got over it and started watching. This is an excerpt from one of the videos. It's Rishav's Birthday. Gunjeet is recording.


"Nahi jab main keh raha hoon mujhe nahi pitna !"


That was Ujjawal. We were done beating up Rishav. No, it wasn't his birthday too.


Rahul: "Abe kya baat kar raha hai, tu kabhi nahi pita??!! Ek baar toh banta hai saale."


Ujjawal: " Haan toh phir main maarta bhi nahi na kisi ko. "


Me: "Abe mujhe dekh, aajtak kisi ko nahi maara phir bhi pit ta rehta hoon."


Rahul(before anyone can respond): "Haan phir tu ch****** hai na."


Everyone bursts out laughing, amongst which the cameraman's laughter could be clearly heard. Including me, the butt of Rahul's jokes the entire semester.


I started snorting as well. Being a public place, I had to keep it down. Most people would think a guy would regret being the victim of someone else's jokes for six months, but not me. I never really had a problem with it. Now, I miss it.


Whatever you through in your college life, the highlights are never the sixes and fours. They're never your most 'successful' moments, or your most romantic one.. not even the memory of getting a job. But those random chains of thought leading to uncontrollable gales of wild laughter, those stick. If you call college a roller coaster ride, I don't think any of us enjoy the ride as much as screaming together while it happens.


A few days ago, I had a dream. Nishit, Raman and I were walking to a bench at the back of a class. Just before we sat down, I said  Raman, and Nishit started his wild laughter, which itself got me going.


And then I woke up. Those are the only ten seconds I remember. But they were enough to make me miss some very special times. There was a pang of guilt for not talking to Nishit for so long.


I don't know if others will or have experienced anything similar, but this isn't even the tip of the iceberg. People say these four years are the golden years of your life. Even so, I'd like to think and hope that, this was just one roller coaster, and there's an entire carnival waiting out there.