Water, water, everywhere...

…. and I don’t know how to fucking swim!

I am sure it’s quite normal to have nightmares of dying a gruesome death. I am not sure, though, if such nightmares should involve drowning in the sea while fighting monster cockroaches.

Monster cockroaches – we can park that thought away for now. Other than my dreams, I am unlikely to have to fight them anywhere. Not that the tiny ones don’t torment me enough in real life, but that’s something that looks silly if cribbed about. Let me concentrate on my other nemesis: water, lots and lots of water, all around me.

I never learnt how to swim. When all my friends were joining the swimming classes way back in school days, I felt shy at having to enter the pool in tiny swimming briefs. I had even enquired at the swimming training club if half pants were allowed to be worn in the pool, and the trainer had looked at me as if I had asked him to part with one of his kidneys. ‘Everyone is dressed like that in the pool,’ he admonished me, ‘how can a boy feel so shy? You can buy the swimming briefs from us at a very reasonable price; we don’t sell swimming half-pants. In fact, there is nothing like swimming half pants’. I imagined the very bony and lanky me entering the pool in tiny briefs to loud guffaws from shapely swimmers all around, and that was pretty much the end of the swimming aspiration in me. Add to that the fact that we didn’t have showers installed at home, and had to use the traditional bucket for taking bath. Thus, I never really got comfortable with the idea of my head going under water! Not that I never got drenched in rains, but rains and rains, and showers are showers, and getting into the shower and closing my eyes would immediately send a panic wave through my whole body. This happened for most of my life and it is only now that I have gotten used to taking showers instead of using buckets and mugs!

I am not really aquaphobic. I am just perfectly capable of drowning pretty easily. I first learnt this years back when visiting the newly-opened water theme park in Kolkata – Aquatica. Here they thankfully let you wear vests and half-trunks. So yeah. I liked the shallow wave pool a lot, and also some of the other rides, and then I saw my cousins effortlessly slide down a giant water-slide riding on a slippery mat. They slid down from great height into a shallow pool and remained afloat on the mat, gracefully got off it into the pool, laughed and splashed water at everyone, and came out laughing even more. I wanted to do it too. It looked so much fun. And perfectly safe. The pool is shallow. I will be on a mat that floats. What can really go wrong, right? The moment I started sliding down, my second greatest fear of steep heights kicked in and I closed my eyes. But I held on to the mat alright. Then I hit the water with a giant splash, and realized that I was drowning. The mat was nowhere! I could swear I was holding on to it till a second back, but it was nowhere. I was supposed to float, but I was drowning. Water was entering my nostrils, ears and mouth. I opened my eyes and could see nothing, and my head was spinning. Someone grabbed me and pulled me out, and made me stand. We were only in waist-deep water. ‘What happened?’ the person who had made me stand-up asked. I coughed out some water, and my head cleared. I looked all around me. People were watching me, some with shock, some giggling, and some laughing quite derisively. I just turned and fled from the pool. Even kids were doing it all right. And here I was a fifteen year old buffoon, drowning in a shallow pool!

You’d think that this incident would make sure I don’t go anywhere near water again, right? You are wrong.

During my MBA days, I took this fraud course where we could travel to Malaysia for two weeks. And while there, we went holidaying in Langkawi, that’s what that place is called I think. We did water-sports, played on the beaches, clicked some amazing pictures, and then decided that we should go snorkeling. The whole group saw some amazing sights under the surface of the sea, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t take my head under the water-surface, not even with the gogs and the breathing pipe thingy over my nose and mouth. I tried, but I couldn’t. The moment my head would go under the water, I would feel as if someone has sent bolts of electricity through my body. I gave up. I contemplated if I should join swimming classes to get over this problem. Then I looked at my lanky hairy self, and thought the better of it. Who wants to go into water regularly anyway?

But not one who learns lessons easily, I agreed when some of my batch mates asked me if I wanted to join them for a quick vacation in Goa. This has been the biggest masochistic decision of my life, as it has given many of my batch mates fodder to tease me for the rest of my life. This time I was very clear though, no going under the water business. I stuck to rides that were either on a boat / scooter etc. or remained simply on the beach. And then some asshole tricked me into going for something called a ‘banana ride’. I didn’t know that the whole point of the ride is to take you deep into the sea and then topple that silly balloon on which you are seated. It is supposed to be the high point of the ride. Oh so much fun, a bunch of us being thrown off a boat in the middle of the sea. Only if we had a few sharks around, it would complete the process of attaining nirvana. Anyway, so yeah, I was wearing life jackets all right. I was told that there are trained swimmers with us. But I wasn’t prepared for the water going over my head. I panicked the moment we hit the water, and I panicked like no one has ever panicked before. I have never really been afraid of death per se, but I started shouting for help assuming that I was drowning. In reality, I was just floating. I held onto the person who was nearest to me and warned him to not let go of me. It turns out he didn’t know how to swim either, but he maintained his calm, and held on to me. I only stopped my drama once someone pulled me back onto the banana boat again. I cursed at a lot of people for nothing, and then as we were approaching the shore, the boat was made to topple again! I mean, are you kidding me! It was Aquatica pool all over again. I would have drowned then and there had someone not pulled me up to show that we were only in knee-deep water! The humiliation on the spot aside, this story quickly made to others in my batch, and I had to endure shouts of ‘Help, I am drowning!’ from a bunch of losers for rest of my stay on campus. Dimwit morons I tell you.

All this made sure that I won’t go anywhere near a water-body for many many years to come. Even if I had to, I stayed content with dangling my feet into the pool while sitting on the edge. Until this weekend that is.

We were holidaying in a sea-beach resort over this weekend, and I was playing with my three-years old daughter (who loves water!) in the baby pool. Don’t laugh. I was in the baby pool only because I was with her, ok. We had spent quite a lot of time, and Ishu had started sneezing, so we decided to get back to the room and get dry. I got up, pulled her up, made her stand outside the pool, and was walking to our slippers while holding her hand (I was inside the baby pool, and she was outside it). Suddenly, the floor vanished under my feet, and I fell into the deeper part of the pool. I hadn’t seen that the baby pool, quite strangely, merged with a deeper pool at this point. Thankfully, I came out of the water immediately, and looked around. Others in the pool were laughing. But I had panicked. Not because of the water, but because I was holding Ishu’s hand. I could have pulled her towards me while going inside the water, and hurt her in the process. But she stood outside the pool, looking at me thoroughly concerned. I heaved a big sigh of relief, gathered her, and came running back to our room.

Pools, and seas, and beaches, and water-bodies, they aren’t meant for me I tell you. When I die and go to hell, the Devil can simply push me into a pond and let me drown, no need really to roast me in hellfire.

Rishte mein to hum tumhare.... huh, kaun lagte hain?

Superheroes have difficult lives ! 

Every superhero must have a tragic personal crisis. Call it destiny. Or a balancing act by nature. When one achieves supernatural expertise at this very huge and humongously important thing (e.g. saving the world, duh! .. if you must ask 'like what?'..), he must fail miserably at some other petty thing that turns his personal life upside down (....like remembering names and faces of relatives; also read: this, this and this...). YogiMan couldn't be an exception.. no, no, no Sir, he couldn't be. 

So, yeah, I am miserably bad at remembering people. I will forget your face, name, where do I know you from, when did we last meet and what did we talk about etc. Problem reaches epic proportions when I am dealing with relatives. I just don't remember! I forget their names even if I have met them a zillion times, I forget how I am related to them, I forget important details about them that every distant family member is supposed to religiously remember. Not only is this pretty embarrassing, this can get people like your parents and wife mighty upset with you as well ('only if you spent more time attending family functions rather than play on your laptop / phone, yeh din dekhna na padta ....'). 

Sample this: 

You are made to attend a wedding. Familiar faces smile at you from all around, making your head go in a tizzy trying to remember who they are. Then suddenly you are confronted by a smiling lady, with a toddler tugging at the hem of her ghagra. 

Unknown Lady: "Vicky, kaise ho? How's Sonia? What have you named the little one?" 

Me: "Umm... accha hoon. Sonia and Ishita are good too. Ishu turned 7 months now", you smile, telling yourself that you obviously know this female, but can't recollect how, why, and other such details. 

Unknown Lady: "Nice..." 

*Long Awkward Silence when you both look here and there* 

Me: "Umm.. you have lost weight" ... (this is usually a nice thing to say to strangers) 

Unknown Lady: "Haha, not at all. Just been watching what I eat", she beams and then tells the kid, "Radhu, don't pull the lehanga beta" 

Me: "Your daughter is cute! " The smile almost vanishes off her lips. 

Unknown Lady: "This is my niece. My son is two years old.... he's over there *points*.. with his father. You are probably confused" 

Me: " (Oops), yeah, sorry, how old is your daugh... umm... son? (wait, she just told you .... you are not making sense, ass!)" 

Thankfully, another lady barges in and steals her away by murmuring about who she needs to meet. Phew!

Imagine the plight if you make such a mistake with your in-laws? ! *shivers* 

Up, up and away! 

Life's Most Important Resolution No. 199

You know these moments when you do something outrageously stupid and then get these guilt / shame - pangs for the rest of your life? Yes, the ones whose memory itself makes you cringe.

And these moments come in various flavours. You didn't get-up from your seat in the crowded bus and offer it to the old man who was barely able to stand just a few feet away from you. You bitched unecessarily about your best friend to someone who didn't really matter. You messed up that most important client presentation of your life. You got drunk and said amazingly stupid things to people around you. Funnily, the last bit keeps happening over and over again to me.

And that brings me to my new resolve. I am not drinking ever again. No, this time it's for certain. Pucca Promise.

Not only will I save myself the splitting headache and hangover on the day-after, I will also be spared the amusing (to others) stories that people have to tell about what all I did after getting drunk. Woresht thing is that I have these memory lapses and I kind of don't remember the events clearly,coherently and in the right order, and have to rely on the versions being given by my 'friends' - who relish reciting the episodes as much as they would have done while watching it. They, of course, have supporting evidence in the form of photos and videos *gasp*

But this will change. I am never going to be drinking again. No more lost memories. No more weird incidents. No free entertainment to loser friends and colleagues. 100% final. *sigh*

Crib-Post # 2

Of the many weird things that people often ask me, this one clearly takes the cake. "Was your marriage an arranged one or a love one?" I mean "What the f***?"

No, seriously. And this question is asked in the most unlikely of situations too.

So, second day of office after transfer to Calcutta and this colleague saunters into my cubicle with a grin on his face. "I didn't know you are married." "Um.. mm.. been one year," and I smiled, not knowing what else to do. "You look young! Was it a love marriage?" he implored, with a gossip-starved look on his face. "No, it was arranged by my parents." He walked away with all his hopes of finding an interesting story washed down the drain.

And he is not the only one. Old friends who meet after a long time, people who you have met just an hour back, clients who have this nosy habit of asking about which gulli of which village did your grandfather come from... they all would invariably include this question as part of the "How are you?s and How do you do?s" and I am left wondering how does it really matter?

Maybe I am cribbing also because I do not have this knack for asking too many nosy questions to others about their lives. I mean if there is something I should know, the other person would tell me himself, right?

Or is it only that I have too many weird people around me?

And my heart makes a secret wish

The problem with our generation is that we grew up watching Chopra-Barjatya-Johar movies. So we get senti about almost anything in this world. So yeah, I was senti when I was leaving Calcutta for IIMB... and I was super-senti when leaving Bangalore for good. And this blog has indeed seen those maudlin posts from my keyboard.

But this time, it was different.

Maybe because I was coming back home to familiarity. Or maybe because being the cribber that I am, I could see only flaws in the city which so many others would swear by. I never liked Bombay and I have no qualms admitting that. So when people around would ask me 'Wouldn't you miss Bombay?', somehow I could never get myself to say 'Yes, I will'.

But it was in the last few weeks of my stay in the city of dreams that I finally started getting that familiar old sinking feeling. And I didn't really know why. My friends had taken it upon themselves to make sure that these weeks form a memorable part of my stay in Bombay. And they did - making me aware of all the things I will miss about Bombay. So when I took one last look at Bombay through the clouds after the plane had taken-off... I found my heart making a secret wish.

So yeah a new beginning. Once again.

Bechu babu?

A group of CA aspirants sit in a tutorial deeply engrossed in solving complex accounting problems. Their tuition Sir intermittently cracks witty one-liners that lead to loud guffaws and hoots from the entire bunch.

Have you ever seen geeks laughing? They take even laughing pretty seriously.

Then, the Sir asks the class - 'Do you think there is any other profession which requires such skill and sharpness of the mind?'
Not knowing that this was a rhetorical question, one poor soul replies, 'Umm.. MBA?'
'Aha' Sir exclaims and the whole class jumps. 'Bechu Babu banoge? Tie lagakar sabun bechoge?' (Do you wanna become a 'Bechu Babu'? Wear a tie and sell soaps?)

Years later, I have understood the irony in those words. Yes, I was part of that geeky gang of students. And today I wear a tie and sell, well.. not soap, but banking products.

Everything you hear (and laugh) about a Sales Job is actually frigging true - evil bosses, ungodly targets, wicked clients, sad life.. and the fact that you start hating your job from day one.

You do a good deal, your boss takes the credit. Your boss fucks up bigtime, you face the shit. You meet your targets and are told you should have exceeded expectations. The Hot Chic gets accolades for merely existing. One more Hot Chic joins office, your workload doubles. And Boss seems happier than usual.

Look pretty, talk smooth, lick asses of everyone around you, keep brain dead for most of the times, and use it only to contrive new wicked ways of projecting what a brilliant salesman you are.

But then once you are in Sales (and did not have the sense to run away within a month of joining the job), you will realize that you crippled for life and are now good-for-nothing-else. You cannot do a desk-job anymore (too boring!), you cannot do anything intellectual (Umm.. what?), your only hope is to reach a level where you can start giving shit instead of taking it. It isn't tough if you have the talent, or if you are a hot chic (refer above).

But what's with all the glory then?

I will conclude with one of the shadiest jokes I have ever heard. It goes something like this:

When the judge asked the plaintiff, "My dear lady, why did you do nothing when the defendant raped you again and again over several days? Do you think you could have done something about it - told someone, raised an alarm?", the young lady giggled nervously and whispered "Yes - But I was enjoying it".

Life @ IIMB - The Final Chapter

For the past two years I had waited for this day. But when it came… it felt like it came too early.

After all, I had just started enjoying my vacation at IIMB.

Hours after hours of doing nothing.. playing World of Warcraft in the Computer Centre Lab night after night, taking a walk to Athica’s with friends at 2’o clock in the night for a cup of coffee, sitting in the OAT at 4 AM in the morning bitching about people, getting drunk on L^2 parties (and hitting on a girl?), watching a night show in a theatre and on our way back doing a little jig in the rain… the second year of my stay at IIMB was as chilled out as the first year had been rigorous, perhaps more … not because it was designed that way by the Insti… but because I had decided, after a lot of deliberation, that I want to enjoy this one year of my life to the fullest.

And enjoy I did. From travelling to Malaysia on a fraud project in a fraud course, to vacationing in Goa, to not mugging for FSA mid-term because I had to finish reading that newly released Harry Potter book (and thus, somewhat foolishly, showing the middle finger to grades), to organizing Karaoke parties in the night to the annoyance of the entire Girls’ Block, to spamming away to glory on all the BRacket folders in the name of ATF… second year at IIMB was fun. But always, somehow… there was an eagerness to run away from the place which had so few happy memories for me… I had always waited for the day when I will finally go far far far away from this hell-hole…

Now I realize how wrong I was… At times, we do not realize what is it that we actually want… maybe I didn’t realize too.

Second year was as different from the first year as it possibly could have been. Maybe because we knew by then that in this race for surging ahead of each other, in this game of marks and money… we are falling behind in this journey called life… we knew by then how to bend rules of the Insti, how to study just before exams and manage the passing grade, how to keep safe distance from the RG-loving, marks-hungry junta… how to ignore people who really don’t matter and … how to live your life your way.

Second year also shattered some myths for me… most important was the realization that my expectations have been misplaced all along… it is not necessary for friends to be like-minded, to crave for the same thing, to follow the same road. I made friends who couldn’t have been more different from me, they still are and will always be… and they formed part of every bit of fun that I had at the place. Had it not been for them, I don’t know if I would have survived IIMB at all. We have fought, we have shared, we have celebrated, we have cried together… have shown each other different facets of the world, have been each others’ conscience, have prayed for each other…

And all that was over…

I remember the day I left campus…

Mummy and Papa were waiting in the cab.. all my luggage had been loaded. I locked the room and rushed to the Hostel Office to deposit the keys… the corridors were deserted. Most students had already left campus. And those who remained would do so in a couple of hours. The first years were busy writing an exam…

It was in that moment that the feeling sank. So, this is it? IIMB is over?

I tried hard to contain tears.. not in front of Mummy and Papa!.... A couple of friends were standing near the cab to see me off… I felt strange. I didn’t know what to say. It was like I am leaving a part of me behind. I looked at the campus one last time… took in everything. There are thousands of things I can complain about and I have been doing that in all earnest. But I know one thing for sure - these were the two best years of my life.

Loser?

Yes, I did that. Again.

Life@IIMB Part-V

A five-day farce!

Things are getting scarier. There was light at the end of the tunnel, or so I thought. Now there is this nagging feeling that it was only a mirage.

You know that creepy feeling that something somewhere is terribly wrong and you ought to know about it, fix it if possible… as it concerns you and the ones you care for… but you don’t know what to do and where to look…

Final Placements of seniors are on now while I write this blog… was there most of the time… and was witness to the drama that is being played out in the MDC lawns… The newspapers will be agog for news of splendid placements and would carry articles that would eulogize the institutes and the MBA program in general. And all the budding MBA-aspirants beyond the walls that surround us here would embark on a journey… a journey fuelled by fragile dreams and delicate aspirations… a vicious trajectory would start all over again.

The placement process at the MBA institutes is a painful one. One would marvel at the way the entire mela is organized and at the sheer scale of it. One would also marvel at how only a few gain out of the process and most are left stranded trying to figure out what could have possibly gone wrong. Having been through a similar process during my summer placements, I thought I would be able to help them out, understand what they are going through. But, I realized that I am still not strong enough… that the vagaries of the process were more than I could take. Looking at people in pain is not easy… and not if a similar pain resides somewhere in your heart too.

One thing which strikes you immediately at the end of the first day of the placement process is that none of the people who are still waiting to get placed deserve to be put through this agonizing process. They are some of the finest brains in India and they don’t need any certificate to prove that they are good. And if nothing else, just the fact that they have the strength to be through all of this is good enough evidence of their capabilities, for me at least. It is not easy to hide from the world the excruciating agony that burns inside. But they don’t need anyone’s sympathy because, if anything, that will only break them down… it is indifference that makes them stronger, helps them to go through it.

Almost like a spider that carefully builds a cob-web for its unsuspecting prey, the MBA institutes ride on the glory of the Day Zero placements. That ensures many things – glamour and exclusivity being two of them. There is no denying that there is no dearth of opportunities for a graduate from a reputed B-School, even for a Day One or a Day Two candidate, and in the end, it all boils down to the abilities that you have. But what is surprising is the way the downsides of the process are played down… and what is highlighted in media is only what would add fuel to the fire.

While a sweeping sense of deja-vu engulfed me the entire time that I was there, I could almost see a similar thing happening to me one year down the line and I kind of feel I don’t give a damn. It is good that I have accepted it now. But does that mean that it wouldn’t hurt when that happened, or that I would stop aiming for the best? Probably not… but then that’s life. Isn’t it?

Life@IIMB Part-IV

A year older, a thousand years younger…

Okie… after much pestering from someone special, here is the blog about my Birthday@IIMB.

Hmmm.. I have always been somewhat indulgent when it comes to assessing the capabilities of my grey cells (I still do).. and it was such a stupid confidence which made me believe that I can do something really bold and brainy… and that was to escape the ceremonial hooshing on my birthday.

I admit I was scared… after witnessing the merciless way in which others were hooshed on their birthdays. And by some stroke of (bad?) luck, I realized that birthdays can indeed be deleted from the server and I did that, congratulating myself on a job well done. No birthday… no hooshes!!

Ahem, ahem, word did leak out and I got hooshed all right, albeit two days after my birthday… and somewhat more than required.. (Junta being angry at me for what I did) :(… And, as it became known to me that they wouldn’t really have hooshed me had I been good and honest, I felt really stupid and like an idiot.

So, I had to nurse my bottom for the whole of the following week and had to curse my stars for having given me that brilliant idea. But, luckily I was spared the customary pole dance (perhaps, because of my seedha baccha-type looks) and was also not made the target of egg-bombs.

So, the take-aways? Hmm.. small things such as this tell you a lot about the people around you.. about how much they care for you, how much they love you… and today, when I look back at these small incidents… I feel grateful that those many kicks landed on my bottom… for today, I have some of the nicest people I know as my friends…

As I always say… Life is full of pleasant surprises… :)

Now as a bonus to this blog, I am adding some clips and also the birthday mail that was sent out to all students before my grand hooshing… it also showers generous praise on me, so that’s another incentive… :D

*wicked-I-am-so-brilliant-smile*

“Hey IIM B,

What do you do to people who do not declare these B'Day for the fear of being hooshed?? You catch them and hoosh them the hardest possible!!!

We meet at L^2 tonight for the very same reason, to "celebrate" the BDay of a certain Mr. Patwari whose Bday was a couple of days back but the batch-mates discovered it today. So now its revenge time...PGP 2's invited to take out all their exam time frustration.

"Are mujhe last bench par baitha diya. kaise samjega hum lectures?"

"CA mein mera bahut kharab rank aaya tha!" (AIR 39 *^%**%)

"Kitna aata use karte hain roti mein, chhee!"

"kaisa khana hai yaar, chhee!"

"kitne machhar hai yahan ki library mein!"

"Bahut kharab marks aaye hai. sab mere se aaage honge!" (to a guy scoring 72, after himself scoring 87 in BGS)

Crib, crib, crib and a bit more crib!

And thus was born Cribbesh, the fraud CA, the half auditor, the super-sincere stud of Sec D.

A born fighter, he has buried himself into books right from the first week. In fact, he once seriously considered changing his room from K block to C block!

Reason - to quote the great man -

"I want to save the 15 minutes I spend everyday walking to class and mess, yaar. Can put more fight"

In fact the only reason he is still in his old room is the proximity to the loo, which incidentally he is in love with. In fact he spends more time in the loo, rather than in his room.

Talk about girls and the guy blushes big time. Further, given his devotion to studies and globe, we assumed that the fraud bong, would never be interested in the fairer sex. We were duly proven wrong when Cribbesh confessed to holding a torch and a lot more for ******** (Censored). Tribute must be paid to the bugger, who actually had ******* (Censored again) … Nah … the hero got the all India 39th rank ("woh to consolation prize tha, yaar"). By the way, the girl does not know that his aashique has gotten into IIMB!! Height of modesty!!

Yogesh is angry at you, he is furious and it shows on his face. He is about to open his mouth and you stand there waiting for the choicest of abuses to be hurled at you. And what actually comes out?? - "Chor", "Nalayak". Yeah, these are the most abusive words in Yogesh's vocabulary. Unbelievable for a 22 years old guy? But then, our Yogesh is one of his kind!

However, with his intelligence, simplicity and straightforwardness, he is sure to win many hearts in his two years here! Any statistical estimates as to how many of them will be female hearts??? Our calculations show a 99% confidence interval!!

Wishing this wonderful person a very happy, though belated, birthday.

Credits: Sec D Back Benchers Club”

… and thus ended the worst year of my life

The year 2006 ended with the usual revelry that one would expect on a new year’s eve… and as usual, I was locked up in my room, biding time, trying to ignore the loud music blaring outside and reflecting on the year gone by.

Now, am not really the philosophical type. So, while I always stay away from parties (even on new year’s eve), I don’t usually take stock of all the happenings in my life at year-end.

But this year was different. It was.

It gave me some moments that I will cherish all my life… it gave me some that I just want to forget… forget that they ever happened… believe that something like that would never happen.

Some loss may be transient, something which loses its importance over time and thus, the loss by itself doesn’t hurt you much. What hurts is the ignominy associated with it… But when you lose something which cannot be replaced, something which was very important to you, something which you had always taken for granted, something which had become a part of the way you lived… it hurts and it hurts more than you can take…

The good thing about life is that it keeps moving forward. So you move ahead with time and forget all that’s given you joy in the past, all that you’ve hated… all that which made you, all that which broke you… and when you actually sit down someday to relive it all, you realize how much you have learnt, how much you have grown, what you have gained and what you have lost. It is in such moments of introspection that you have an unbiased view of the world around you, the world inside you and you simultaneously feel proud of yourself for everything you have done that is good and hate yourself for everything that is bad…

Anyways… 2006.. good riddance!

Tagged!!!!!

The third day of summer placements... I walk into the interview-room like a zombie - tired, shattered and bitter...

The lady looks up and smiles... "Hello Yogesh, take a seat"

"Let us play a game Yogesh.. you guess the question that I am going to ask next.. and if you guess it wrong, you lose points. Is that fine?"

"Yes" I replied, too tired to do otherwise....

"So, tell me Yogesh, what am I going to ask next?"

"Hmm.. you'll ask me.... to introduce myself....." I said, earnestly hoping that she doesn't ask that 'cuz I was too bored of repeating the same mugged-up stuff over and over again for three days.. carrying that plastic smile on my face, trying fruitlessly to hide the pain that possessed my heart...

"No.. what I will ask you is..." and she looked at me menacingly "What went wrong on DayZee?...."

I stared at her... what was she trying to do? Make a mockery of my pain...I tried to open my mouth... but my heart burned... as if some unknown force had pushed a burning rod into it..
and the pain bagan to flow out....slowly...

What went wrong?? Do I know the answer?? No, perhaps not....

Being a non-engineer had ensured that I have a flurry of shortlists... but didn't ensure anything more than that. For the first time, I realized that being academically bright is not everything in the world.. All these so called DayZee companies look for something much more than that..
So what was it that I lacked?

Well, among many other things..one in particular which acted as bane was, as one recruiter put it, "Yogesh is just too nice and too polite... he wouldn't fit into our culture"... !@#$%^&*

Yes, perhaps my personality acted as the biggest drawback for me.. I am not 'pseud'.... quite a popular term at IIMs.. which signifies style, panache and attitude..something which I clearly lack..

Frustrating and painful though it may be, but the summers process did teach me a lot about myself and about the world. Being shoved from one interview to the other, without making a hit anywhere... and seeing your friends celebrating all around you is shattering... specially when you always thought that you were good..

And you find similar people around you.. people who have always excelled at whatever they have done.. and now who are left at the mercy of fate.. waiting to get a nod that they are good too.. that they deserve at least the mediocre, if not the best. The pain is mutual and some of the best friendships germinate in those 5 days.. people who undertstand each other..and who have been with each other, not in happiness but in pain..

There are several realizations that come to you once the summers process is over..

One, you realise that companies which otherwise earn a lot of respect out of campus, are derided just because they come recruiting on DayOne or DayTwo..

Second, there is a lot of hype surrounding overseas placements which is quite unnerving as the expectations of all students are raised... but only the lucky few actually make hay..

Third, you get to know who all your true friends and who are not.. there were people who were assisting in the process and supporting those who needed comforting.... in times like this, even a caring word from a friend means a lot... but then there were those who didn't give a damn as to whether others were placed or not.. but were busy celebrating their success immediately after DayZee... nothing wrong with that.. just that you were expected to be somewhere with someone..

With the summers process, I have, quite possibly, seen the worst in my life.... and I feel that I came out much stronger than what I earlier was.. But, yes, it has also ensured that I get 'tagged' DayOne guy for the rest of my stay at IIMB....


There are times when you want nothing in this world... nothing, other than just cuddle in your mother's lap and cry.. cry like a kid... and that feeling that here's someone who understands you.. who doesn't care what you are.. who doesn't care what the world thinks... who simply loves you....selflessly... and your ears hear her caring words even though she is miles away... and you cuddle in your bed... and cry.. silently.. cuz you are a man.. a strong man... and you know that another day awaits you tomorrow....

Life@IIMB Part-III

......Till I saw a man with no feet!!!!


I apologise for posting such maudlin thoughts in my last post!!! As I now realise, life couldn't have been more generous to me. Did I deserve all that was served to me on a platter..? I'm able and I'm competent..... yet I choose to crib and not fight it out....

If there is something that one never stops doing, in this wonderful siesta called 'life,' it's 'learning'. We learn as we trudge along and in course, perhaps, evolve as better human beings... And, at times, something extra-ordinary happens which goes on to shake the very beliefs and the values we stand for.

And learn I did when I volunteered for Vikasana's new endeavour this Sunday. A group of spastic children, full of a zeal for life, but daunted by the tyranny of their fate, arrived for a short visit to our campus. Each of them had ambitions... and they were fighting tooth and nail to reach the same... one of them, a fresh commerce graduate just like me, wanted to get into an IIM.... another, a small kid, wanted to be a scientist...
and many of them did succeed.... one of them was doing 3D-animation, which my engineer friend informs me that even fully able qualified engineers find difficult... another was an artist and his sketches could have put a professional artist to shame...

We had a wonderful time together... we wanted them to have a good time.... but it ended the other way round. We enjoyed ourselves more than we could have imagined...

When they were about to leave.. one of them said in his farewell speech..."After coming here, we realized, may what people sayoutsise the gates of IIMs, you guys also have a heart..."

So, what do I do now.... be thankful to God to have put me in such a privileged position. But does that mean that it is wrong to have ambitions and then feel bad when you fail in your efforts.. No, we can't stop trying to better ourselves for then we would stagnate...
But it is wrong to blame life and fate when they have been so kind to you... and you could not make the best out of the privileges bestowed on you...

Life@IIMB Part-II

Midterm-Phobia

In this world, there are three types of people (No, this is not that cliched bollywood-movie dialogue!!!). First, who slog day in and day out... and in the end, come out with flying colours; Second, who don't give a damn about grades, who make the best out of their time(i.e. enjoying life to the fullest) and don't even wince upon getting pathetic marks; Third, who know how to beat the system, who make the best out of their lives too... but who, miraculously, also get top grades.

Surprisingly enough, I don't fall in any of the above categories. I form part of that rare breed who slog day in and day out... but still end up getting pathetic grades.
This truth glared at me immediately after I had landed at this place. Having performed miserably in the first few quizzes... I realized that I, perhaps, will have to put serious fight to survive here among this bunch of engineers.

Hard work doesn't scare me, but fear of failure does....

It's something wonderful if you have never failed in your life, if you have always managed to stay ahead of the rest, if you have always been this demi-god figure among your peers.... but, unbroken success comes with an accompanying curse... it makes to used to being successful, used to being popular, used to being looked up to... and that is where the fun starts.

Never before had it happened that Yogesh Patwari was scared of sitting in an exam. But the very thought of taking the mid-term Quants paper was giving me goose-bumps. Somehow, since my childhood days, I always failed to appreciate the beauty of this animal called 'Mathematics'. It was always 'Me Vs Math'.... and just imagine my plight when I realized that in the next two years, I will have to grapple with Quants in virtually every course that I take.

Hey.... I am not the only one cribbing after getting in..

There's this girl on campus who topped her university and was awarded a gold-medal for her spectacular performance.... last heard, she was barely scoring above-average in the tests... there's this guy who, after quitting a high-paying job, realized that he's simply not good enough to survive at IIMB.....

IIMB may or may not bring the best out of you. But it is adept at doing something for sure. And that is dragging you out of your ivory-tower and making you face the real-world, the real-competition... real struggle for survival.
Not fair... but then, whoever said life was ever fair?

Life@IIMB Part-I

There are times when we spend hours appreciating the beauty of a single moment and there are times when we experience the most beautiful moments of our life but don’t even have a second to stand by and reflect. My first few days at IIMB have been somewhat along the latter line. It has been a rollercoaster, an experience which would form an indelible part of my memory.

Before coming here I had apprehensions about this place and whether I would be able to cope with the pressure or not. As regards the latter, I am still not very sure. But, yes, being one of the very few commerce graduates among a herd of engineers is a special feeling, no doubt. I had heard stories of engineers being devilish creatures, hardened by merciless ragging in engineering colleges. I had apprehensions and fears which I dared not express. Things couldn’t have been more different than what I had imagined.

Come to this place and a single most important truth would strike you. You are no longer important. While back home, you were considered to be this super-stud who cracks exams with finesse, come to IIMB, and you would be dwarfed by the rocking profiles which almost all the facchas possess. (At one point in time, I did contemplate what the IIMB authorities could have possibly seen in me… I mean, compared to others’ profiles…)

First, about the campus…. simply, awesome!! The entire structure is made up of grey stones which gives it the look of an old palace. Cosseted from the urban jungle by lush greenery on all sides, IIMB is the ‘perfect seat’ for learning. And the weather… it pampers you till you are spoilt like a brat.

The first week was the ‘orientation program’. It was a flurry of activities. IIMB has devised this unique way of “breaking the ice” between the PGP1s. Throughout the week, we, as a group, participated in a variety of activities, none of which had anything to do even remotely with studies, but at the end of which we came to know almost every other member of the batch.

We were divided into small groups of 6-7 and made to discuss among ourselves inane topics. We changed our groups after every discussion. While it did seem idiotic at first, by the end of the session, we had known all the members of our batch. Then, there was this unique session where every member had to introduce his neighbor to the entire class.

We were also taken for an outbound trip to “breakthrough” – a local camp-site. There we spent the entire day playing a variety of games (which all somehow ended in a moral each). But, most importantly, we had a lot of fun together. We did rope-walking, log-pulling and other stuff which would look amusing on paper, but we had helluva fun doing these.

We also had “Abacus” – the Yoga session where we were encouraged to be creative and we played a variety of games which ranged from a variation of dumb-charade, spoof on News-channels, aerobics, music etc.

While all this may sound to be very relaxing, trust me, the first week was something I would never forget. We were given a host of assignments by seniors from resume submission to getting 25 student-interaction forms filled up, all to be accomplished within ridiculous deadlines. But it all ended in the traditional IIMB way where all of us (both seniors and juniors) had a lot of fun.

How could I have not mentioned the L^2 parties till now! These form the lifeline of stay@IIMB. Though I am not a party animal and can’t dance to save my ass, there is no harm in seeing beautiful girls hitting the dance-floor. We have these parties every fortnight which continue well into the morning.

Classes have started and the actual IIMB experience is taking a toll on my sleep-hours rather badly. Will elaborate on that sometime later… But, for now, I am giving you a glimpse of the Hostel-Life@IIMB....

How birthdays are celebrated at IIMB:

Party begins at midnight. You are brought to the famous L^2 and wished "Happy Birthday". Just when you start feeling elated and marvel at the huge gathering of students who seem to care for you and have assembled in the chilly night to wish you, the actual fun starts.

You are 'Hooshed' in the traditional IIMB way and also punched and kicked. Then you have to name your favorite PGP1 girl. That girl would come forward and smear cake on your face. And then, it becomes a free-for-all. Every one throws cake at each other.

No, that is not all. The birthday boy is made to do 'pole-dance' a la Malaika Arora. He is then made to sit in the mud and given a bath, first with water and then with sauce. When you are completely covered in mud, you are required to do a "nagin" dance.

And, yes, you get kicked and punched all the while. Doesn't that make you curse why were you born in the first place?
Darn, I have already entered my birthday on SPIDI and there is no way of taking it down…. Waiting for my turn at the altar…

**Finally, the end... and the beginning thereafter**

So, exams finally over. A big relief which is simultaneously filling me with a sense of void. Not much to do till IIMB starts.
The realisation, that my indolent academic life is all but over and what is awaiting me is a life that races past at maddening pace,is exciting, unnerving and alluring at the same time.

Though I never quite grew fond of my college, it felt strange to think that this is the last that I'll see of Xavier's. I have spent some of the best days of my life here, have bitter-sweet memories and most important of all===> made so many great friends.
I remember each of us whispering to the others---> "Yaar, bhool mat jana!"... And suddenly I feel a pang of emotion.. Hey, I have grown used to them all... Having an extraordinary large number of friends had always made me proud... Friends from school, high school and then college had all been in constant touch. Would that be possible now that I am away..
We had extensive photo-sessions. Something that would serve as aid to memory in case the latter fails us. I can picture myself several years from now looking at these longingly and wishing that we never grew up.

The dirty streets of Calcutta, the annoying traffic jam, the blaring loudspeakers and everything that filled me with disgust before now only reminds me "take in everything.. you'll yearn for all of this". I have spent 21 years of my life here and everyone and everything that I know belongs to Calcutta. And not before one of my friends pointed out that my association with this 'city of joy' may now get reduced to short recces did I realize "Hey, I will miss Calcutta!!!"
Why does moving ahead involve leaving ur closest and dearest friends behind???

Yes, I have so much to do before IIMB starts. I have to take memories with me. But how exactly do you store the memory of seeing your father's eyes sparkle with pride and satisfaction upon being congratulated for his son's achievements... How do you store the memory of seeing your mother cry when she realises that her son who is going away from her for the first time may take up a job somewhere away from Calcutta... How do you store the memory of feeling special and cared for when your best friend hugs you...

And there is the enticement of the life ahead... silver dreams, golden path...a new chapter of life is about to begin.
No, nothing ends here... it is just a transition. A transition that brings fresh challenges and a new sense of responsibility. And, however much may we want to stay back, move on we must.

Life, how many of your facets am I yet to see?

MUSINGS OF A SELF-CONSUMING LOSER!!!

Now, this may sound like the ramblings of a nutter... but I always genuinely thought that I was good... that I would make it..
But just two converts out of seven of the best colleges in India has punctured my vanity rather badly.. I simply can't see what really went wrong..
I could only conclude that any of the following reasons could have acted as a bane:

Explanation#1===> This is the weirdest explanation that comes to my mind. That I am a fresher and that too from Commerce stream may have acted as a hindrance... Afterall, we all hear the blatant bias that these institutions have towards engineers.

Explanation#2===> IIMs don't attach any importance to an individual's past academic profile...(as said by an IIMC prof in an intrvw) but weightage is given to work-experience. Thus, all the slogging I did for 21 yrs of my existence was of no use..

Explanation#3===> My %ile is 99.45 which cannot be considered to be a pucca convert type.. Thus, in an scenario where importance is being given solely to CAT%ile and GD/PI performances, my performance had to be exemplary, which I feel may not have been the case.

Explanation#4===> People have always told me that I am just too soft-spoken. That my soft-spokenness can be taken to be a lack of confidence. But, I believe that I had worked on it and in my IIM GD/PIs I tried to be assertive... perhaps, that was not good enough.

Explanation#5===> I have almost nil extra-currics... if that matters that much...

Explanation#6===> Meri kismat phooti huyee hain...

Now, ppl tell me that I shud be celebrating for IIMB.. so I will now celebrate.. but will always wonder what is it that I lack???

Best wishes to all,
Yogesh

PS: Not feeling so bad now that have converted IIMK as well.. It surely helps to remove a name from the REJECT's list...:)

PS2: Converted IIMA as well... that makes me Mr Snooty again...:D

It Began Thus...

One could easily take me to be one of those studious types of 'uncool' guys. I look very much like a bookworm and I daresay, I actually am. I have an army of friends, though, and we always have a gala time together. I am one of those who are shy to the point of being taken as indifferent. I love chatting with ppl but am unlikely to make the first move..

Did schooling from 'Andhra Association School' and 'St. Lawrence High School', both in Kolkata. About to graduate in Commerce from 'St. Xavier's College', Kolkata in June'06. Took CAT'05 and bagged BLACKI...


Needless to say, more than anything else, CAT-Calls ;) acted as a big lucky break for me. Much of how my life takes shape in the future has been decided by this single most important event of my life.I'll put down my bitter-sweet GD/PI experiences at the IIMs and also XLRI here in my Blog.. as these from indelible parts of my memory...Happy Reading!!!

BTW, I must add... Me an avid HARRY POTTER fan :-)

Thanks for visiting my blog :-)
Regards,
Yogi