Marigold : A short story

Firstly, sorry for my absence from the blogworld. It has been a hectic time for me. Sleep deprivation has been rampant. In this cold, going to take a bath has been like going to war. Times flies here, yet, at the end of the day if you ask me - aaj kya kiya? I would be at loss of words. These are my last days at MDI, before I leave for Germany so I want to enjoy these days fully. Will let you know more about these adventures.
Anyway, my friends have been wanting me to write a romantic story, so here goes. For all you people out there...

Note: I am deviating from the usual love stories and entering into a much serious domain. Hope I do justice to the story.

Short Story


It was quite a time to be born... India was being born, breaking the shackles of 150 years of British rule.

The year was 1945. I used to stay in Multan with my parents. I was 20 years old then, studying in the local Arts college. I was majoring in English. My father was of the opinion that the British are successful because they know English. My father was a zamindar, which is an euphemism for calling him a British puppet who took money from poor Indians and forwarded it to the Government, the English government that is, in the process getting a hefty commission...My grandfather gave up zamindari when he saw how exploitative the practice was.

I never wanted to study B.A. , in fact I didnt want to study at all... I wanted to be a painter.

The reason why I stayed in college was because of Tasleen. Tasleen was this girl who lived in the house next to my house. We didnt have a flat system then, every family owned a house, one with a courtyard, backyard and a terrace... Her terrace had a small garden in which grew lovely Marigolds.

In the winters, it would get very cold. In Delhi, winter is a lot less harsh compared to Multan. In the mornings, I would study on the terrace to soak in the sunlight... She would come on her terrace with a pitcher of water to water the plants.

Her beauty was unparalleled. I had never seen anything as beautiful as her... Her long hair, her slender frame, the way she gracefully bent to water the plants... Only the marigolds in her Garden could try to match her beauty... but would still fail...

I would hide behind the book I was reading/pretending to read and would catch a glimpse or two. Those days we could not leer at girls (though we wanted to). It was considered impolite.

She would never even look at me. She was 2 years younger to me, I had been to a boys school next to her school, I was now her senior in college, I had been her neighbour since ages now, but I had never got an opportunity to talk to her. Whenever I had to go to her house to get some curd or sugar, her mother would open the door and usher me into the house. She would treat me to samosas and jalebis but there would be no sign of Tasleen. Come to think of it, Tasleen's mother was beautiful too. You could see where Tasleen got her looks from...
And now here we were, just 50 meters away from each other, separated only by a terrace wall and she wouldn't even acknowledge my presence.

Those days these local goons would wait outside the college gates to tease girls. Most of us, that included me, were scared of them. One day, she was walking back home from college. She was probably the prettiest girl in college and quite naturally a target for the thugs to tease. I was walking behind her at a distance. At first, the teasing was only verbal. Then one of the guys touched her dupatta. I was furious. I ran towards her and held her hand and stood as a shield in front of her. I told them that the girl was my neighbor's daughter and it was my duty to escort her to her house. My voice was shaky, trembling... but the words and my intent were clear. They let us go.

All the time that we were walking, her eyes were transfixed on the ground. Mine were transfixed on her. I was walking withing three feet of Tasleen. It was a dream come true. She left without without even saying a thank you. Come to think of it, why should she, she was doing me a favour walking with me...

I kept thinking about her all day. Books, studies, groceries, bicycles... they all seemed so unimportant right now.. I went to the terrace to clear my thoughts and there she was, drying her long hair. There is something lovely about a girl's wet hair... I kept staring at her... She looked at me... and smiled...

I graduated in the summer of 1946. My father got me a job in a college in Amritsar. I didnt want to go. But his decision was final. At least that is what I had been told ever since I was a kid. Though he always wanted the best for me, then, I couldnt help think that he was any different from those thugs outside college who impose their will.

That hot afternoon, when everyone was asleep, she came to the door of my house and said,
"Are you going to leave for Amritsar?"
That was the first full sentence I had heard from her mouth. I kept looking at her.
"Are you?" She asked again.
"Yes." I answered.
"Don't."
I kept quiet. I didnt know what to say.
"Please don't leave." She said.
She had tears in her eyes. She didnt get an answer.



It was 45 degrees outside. I kept my suitcase on the cycle rickshaw. I was supposed to catch the train at the station to Amritsar. I looked at her terrace, she wasnt there... The cyclewala started to pedal the rickety rickshaw... I looked behind at her door, for the last time... The rickshaw set into motion.. Her door opened... She walked out.. barefoot, in that scorching heat... She kept looking at me, like she would never see me again...

It turned out to be true... I never did see her again.

Her family left Multan, which became a part of Pakistan after the partition of 1947. Someone told me that they sold off the house in Multan. Where did they go, nobody knew.

I knew, if I found marigolds in a garden, trying to be more beautiful than they actually are, as if competing with someone, that would be her garden...

That story...

In 1994, my Grandson, Surabh, completed his M.S. from the US. He found the love of his life there. They wanted to get married...

While raising up my son, I had been very liberal. I tried hard to be not like my father. My son became a scientist. He now heads the ISDRO for the Government of India. I think he got Sheila's brains.

I got married to Sheila in 1950. I searched for Tasleen in Delhi, Amritsar and Chandigarh for 3 years. Eventually I had to concede to the demands of my mother. She wanted me to get married.

Sheila was lovely. She was intelligent, elegant and kind. She was everything that a man would want in a woman. I lost her 5 years ago. A huge void was left in my heart.

I still couldnt help feeling that I had wronged Tasleen. Her "Please don't leave." would echo in my head. Maybe I didnt search for her right, or maybe I didnt give it enough time. I should have had searched more...

When Surabh came back from the US, I could see he was lovestruck.
"You really love her, huh?" I asked.
The frank and friendly relationship that I shared with him allowed me to be that intrusive.
"Yeah baba. I really do." He said.
"So wont you show your baba her photo?" I said jokingly.
But I forgot he was my grandson and equally jocular.

He pulled out an old photo of a small girl of 3 or 4 years old out of his wallet.
"See, this is my girl, her name is Pritha" he said pointing to her.
I removed my spects from my shirt pocket to see.
"And this, is her grandma." He pointed to a old lady who was playing with the girl in the photo.

I looked closely at the woman in the photo...

"Could I meet Pritha?"
"Ofcourse, we are going there on Sunday. Mom and Dad want to meet her too..."

On Sunday, I dressed in my best suit. Carried my best cane. The woman in the photo was none other than Tasleen. I couldnt believe I had finally found her.. and how! My grandson fell in love with her granddaughter! And that too half a world away...

I bet her grand daughter was as pretty as her. No wonder Surabh fell for her.

Our car parked outside their bungalow. We walked through the garden. The garden had the loveliest marigolds I had seen in a long long time. I knew they were competing. And this house had two pretty women they had to compete with...

We entered the living room. Surabh helped me sit on the sofa. I was excited for a 70 year old and I guess, it showed.

I waited for Tasleen to come out. Would she be happy to see me after so many years? What will I say to her?

A photo on the wall caught my eye. It was Tasleen's photo...she looked so beautiful... the photo had a garland of Marigolds around it.

I had found her... I had lost her... A tear rolled down my cheek...

That story...

Dedicated to Sulabh Kakkar, a friend, whose Grandfather had to leave their hometown in Multan in the partition of 1947.


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MDI Roundup

Hello to all the dudes. And love to all the girls who have been visiting this page everyday for the past 1 month. Well all your wishes have come true. I am here.

I am done with my exams... for now atleast. Within 4 weeks, they ll come back knocking on my door.. like those seniors knocking on our door in the induction week (read here), to wake us up at 4:30 for the yoga session.

After almost an age and a half, I slept for 10 straight hours. I woke up to a huge breakfast. Slept again. Took a bath, more than a record 25 minutes. Slept again. Woke up for a heavy lunch. And now I am here. Sitting outside my room facing the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the Sun and the chill of the evening air, and thanking God for inventing Wi-Fi.

The funny thing about this post is that I was supposed to write it last month, when my last exams got over. But I slept then, because I was sleep deprived. Once the weekend after the exams gets over, you never get time to do anything. Now this may seem to be a usual MBA cliche. But in this case, its not.

Heard MBA guys whine about scarcity of time and lack of sleep? Well, those guys have 14 lectures a week... We at International Management(IM) at MDI, have 26 lectures a week! More lectures also mean more assignments, more quizzes and more exams! And that is why we have exams every 4 weeks, but they get a good month and a half before every exam. Compared to my life, the normal life that MBA students live around the country live is Disneyland. And this crib is in line with my philosophy - What I do is more difficult than what you do! :P

So all those guys who are mad at me for not being able to comment on their blogposts, I rest my case.

But this isnt a crib post, this post is a feel good post... feel good for YOU that is! But seriously, MDI isnt all about hard work... umm.. it is actually.. But its majorly IM who has it so bad, but then they get to study and work abroad, proving Timberlake's age-old line of thought- "what goes around comes back around" :P

I have a stack of unread Economic times on my table that I plan to read. I have been collecting them since a week now. Last week, I didnt really get the time.
Today, after my bath, I cut my nails. It took me only 10 minutes. Believe me you, I had been planning when to cut them all week. After I was done, I wondered, why was I actually planning a thing this trivial?! Then I realised, its all about priorities.. Its always a tradeoff...

What do I do? Should I read that article I had been planning to or should I shave my 3 day old stubble? Should I sleep for another 20 minutes or research on that assignment. Should I read the newspaper or work on that ppt slide? Should I study over the weekend or join the folks over for a trip to Kasauli? Everything, you see, is a tradeoff..

But its not always bad. Sometimes I choose a trip to Kasauli(a hill station near Shimla) over studying. And its great fun... Come to think of it, even reading and studying and working on projects isnt too bad. Actually its kinda fun. You have to be creative and different from your peers. There isnt anything thats right or wrong, there are just different ways of doing it.

Now for example, this is something that I plan to work on - "The ratio in which the fairer sex checks itself out in the mirror, compared to the male, when presented with an opportunity"

You will be amazed by how nerdy I am gonna sound for the next para or so. I can already see the girls who used to hide behind trees to have a glimpse of me turning their laptops off. But dont. Listen to this.
The other day, in the 15 minute break that we get between serial lectures, I was having coffee, resting my already tired body, tired beacuse of attending 4 lectures on the trot, against the wall facing the door of the building. For the MDI guys who are reading this post, the building I am talking about is 'Lakshya', the building where all the International Management guys attend their lectures. This is a centrally AC building. It has reflective glass doors. The ones that allow the people inside the building to see the ones who are outside, but not vice-versa.

So I was standing opposite to the door. One door was open, the other was closed. As people entered the building I noted that they looked at the close door. Some just look, some touch their hair. But something was peculiar about this. The girls did this more. I was confused for like a minute. But then the coffee kicked in. I realised they are looking at their own reflection in the glass door.

I got half the class to stand with me and predicted who will look to the left(the girls) and who wont(the guys). Well, needless to say, it was a rage. I declared that only girls look at the mirror when presented an opportunity. Foreign girls go out of their way to look at their image. Some of them actually stop and pose and stuff! Well guys dont look at themsleves. But this notion was ruined by the French and the Italian guys who entered the building and not only looked at themselves but also fixed their hair. I am in the International relations committee of MDI and know these guys by their first names and nationalities. My next aim to find which part of what country they belong to. Btw, some Indian guys also looked at themselves as they entered. We now exercise caution against them. :P

Taking this research forward(yes, I am taking this very seriously) I conducted the same research in the break after the morning lecture. It turns out that lesser people looked at their reflection. So now I am very interested.

I want to conduct a full fledged research on this. Any corporate house interested in sponsoring this research(inclusive of the coffee bills) can contact me.

What good is this research gonna bring to the society you ask?

Well, due to the varied sample size - we can understand the impact of different cultural attributes on the behaviour of the masses of different regions of the world and the different ways in which this impact manifests itself.

I have learnt in my 4 months of MBA training that your answers to stupid questions must be more than 3 lines in length and equally stupid.

Anyway, I have solved the purpose of this post, which was to clean the webs hanging off its ceiling and treating you guys to some quality(?) blogging. Now that I saved the day, I should go off to my 3rd short nap of the day(I am making some kinda record here).

Thanks & Regards,(something I learnt here)
Arshat.
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Hey monkey! Part 1: The MBA monkey...

From the makers of
Comes a new series of stupidity - Say hello to the monkey!

Note: Dont try and find a reason or point of this post. I was too bored. And few of my friends threatened to not pay my CCD bills if I dont write a new post(Okay, these are some things we bloggers say to sound important. Nobody threatened to do anything. Infact people are more than happy that I am not writing any new posts.) so here I am writing a post for you guys(all you bill payers)


The best part of living at the MDI - IDPL hostel is that you get to see wildlife. By wildlife I dont mean Parivesh or Shantanu, but real wildlife - like peacocks and monkeys (again, not parivesh or shantanu) like red-ass, bad-ass, food snatching, gawking (or whatever that they do) dirty, banana eating monkeys.

Now I have nothing against them, my food has never been snatched. But its only coz if I am eating a fruit and a monkey comes within 10 meters radius, I throw the food at him and run for my life. I know all these guys in Mumbai who read my blog must be laughing at me, but I-shit-you-not, these monkeys are like dangerous man... Ask a Delhi friend of yours..

Anyway, so this one morning, I wake up early, I open the door of my room (which btw opens directly onto the terrace- I have a terrace room!) and I see this monkey in meditation mode sitting on the parapet. This is closest that I have gotten to a monkey and quite predictably it scares the shit out of me. Just so as you know I am not lying - Exhibit A - The photograph


I was scared so I started blabbering..

Hey monkey!
Hey mate!
Good monkey! Dont hurt me, monkey.. You want an apple.. Do you?
I dont want an apple... My stomach is upset..
Really? how?
Ate too much at last night's party... Not to mention the constantly changing weather..
Oh.. what was the party for? Oh wait.. a talking monkey!!
It took you three full sentences from my mouth to realise that? Dude you are slow.. anyway, the party was to celebrate our success in business...
Really? But isnt your business called monkey business? hehehhehe.. rotfl..
Gnawk! Gnawk! Will you stop with your stupid jokes already? They are an insult to my intelligence. Can you please grow up now atleast?
Why? Er.. I mean, why now?
You are getting an MBA, people look up to you now..
Really? they look up to me?!
No, they dont, u dumbass.. I was just being nice..
Oh.. darn.. you are a mean monkey
Yes. I am. I need that apple now, or else I will bite you..
Here... have this..
thats a pear... Its green.
Wow.. you guys arent colour-blind like the others..
No, we are not.. infact we are even good at number.. 17x5=85
Wow.. impressed.. I am sure you are good at business.. What is your business anyway?
We are into customer relationship management... You see, we attack guys with food and stuff..
Thats a shit business..
I agree... But our business school rocks!
You have an B-school too? What do they teach you there?
Nothing much.. Languages and stuff.. I, for instance, talk 5 languages.
5? Dude!
Yeah.. English, hindi, spanish, german and french.
Whoa! I am amazed!
Sure.. You should be... You cant speak any one of the above mentioned languages properly.. I bet..
Umm.. well.. but I am sure neither can you. The only words that you can speak in the above languages, I am sure, are related with 'eat', 'hungry' and 'banana'.
Yeah... you are right.. But then I am a monkey! You want a Phd from me?
Oh.. yeah.. sorry... So, how did you get to be so smart?
Well, I studied hard in MBA.
What did you study?
Stuff... Its a very exhaustive course..
Talk bout exhaustive... Mine is damn exhaustive..
So is mine..
I bet you dont have to attend 25 lectures a week..
No I dont.. But I am a monkey! I sit at one place for 1 hour! What more do ya want!
The monkey card again..
And I didnt mean exhaustive in terms of number of lectures.. We believe in quality more than quantity.
Quality? You believe in quality? Arent you like.. a monkey?
So what? We got real good courses.. The ones that will actually help you in life..
Like?
Like how to snatch a banana from a 10 year old, how to climb trees fast-I, how to climb trees real fast -II. Part two is real difficult. It took me two years to clear the part two.
Wow.. that does sound tough.. and what else you got?
We have this course on urban snatching of food... its based on our need to expand in the urban areas. Then there is this course on how to meet girls and copulate. Of course, I know all about it, so I skipped it...
Umm.. I hope by 'girls' you mean female monkeys...
Obviously you dumbass... You got a dirty brain..
You know what? We should become friends. That way you can stay in my room. And then I can bring girls over asking them if they want to "see my monkey"... hehehe..
You are such a pervert..
Oh really? And how are you better?
I am not.. I am a monkey, remember?
Darn it... So anyway, what was the point of this talk?
I dunno.. I think you are the one who started talking first..
Nope..
Yep..go to the top of the post.. I think it was you who was scared and almost pee-ed in his pants and started blabbering stuff..
Oh.. yeah.. man.. a talking monkey! What a day...
Yeah.. a dumb human.. what a day!
Hey! shut up... I am like real smart.. okay..
So you were just acting dumb..
Maybe I was.. just so that you would feel nice..
Hmm.. In that case-thanks. Well, I want to return the favour. I want to help you learn how to get girls as in 'human girls'.
Really?
No you idiot.. I am a monkey! What would I know about your women..
You know what? No one knows about our women. Its damn difficult to know what they want..
Its the same everywhere dude...
Hmm.. I understand.
Well, that reminds me, its getting kinda late.. I should head back home to my girl..
Sure.. Go home.. Go see your monkey.. and I wasnt talking metaphorically.. hahhaa
Dude... grow up...

He slowly started walking away. He jumped on the railing and then jumped on to a branch. In no time he was gone.

I picked the newspaper back and went to sleep. I joy of talking to a monkey(I know it sounds weird) was too much for me. When I got up later, the newspaper was still lying outside my door..

Just so that you know that this is a true story - Exhibit B-






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We all need our share of miracles...

We all need our share of miracles to help us believe in ourselves. I got mine.

I remember that day. It was a Sunday or was it? When you have 25 lectures a week, you kinda lose track of time. I got a call in the morning. It must have been a Sunday, I think, coz I was fast asleep at 8 am. On weekdays, we leave our rooms by that time. I think it was Sulabh.

"Oye? Match hai! Ready ho ke aa ja."
"Huh? Match? aaj? Rohit hamessha Sunday ko hi matches kyun rakhta hai bey?"

You can understand my sense of frustation if you have slept for only 5 hours on average through the week and the only day that you get for yourself is taken up by a cricket match you are not even gonna win.

I exibit the kinda of pessimism coz we had already lost the first match. Infact, we had lost by a huge margin. We even gave away the bonus point. This team was team PGPM D.

Now let me give you a tour of my degree course at MDI. I am in the International Management course at MDI. The course is truly international coz I get to study at MDI for 1 year then for 1 year at Paris/Berlin campus. Its a dual degree course. I get one degree from MDI and the other from ESCP France/Germany. International management is by far the toughest course in the country.(This is my blog and I can say whatever I want) It has to be, coz we cover the same syllabus as other Bschools cover in 2 years in 1 year! The result - jam packed schedules, frequent exams, quizzes by the dozen, sleep deprivation and stuff. All programmes all over India have 14 lectures per week. We have 25! For me, IIM and Co are for sissies and little kids. Men come here.

The batch comprises of 30 students. 21 Indians and 9 Foreigners(No, they are not exchange students, they are actually a part of the batch)

Out of 21 Indians, we have 19 boys. So we effectively have like 19 members to make a team, in contrast to other teams who have around 60 guys.

So on this particular day, out of the 19 boys, 10 had left for their homes(cant blame them, they didnt know about the match). We had 9 guys on the campus, out of which a few werent too used to playing cricket. (Cumon, you dont get into MDI if you spend all your childhood playing cricket.. being a nerd pays, I tell you).

So we had 9 guys. But you obviously cant play with 9 players in cricket. You need 11. We searched and finally got hold of Philip, a German classmate who hadnt played cricket ever. But he jumped in and now we had a makeshift team of 10 guys against a team of 11 who beat PGPM D a few days ago.

To stay in the tournament we needed to win this match. Not only win it, we were supposed to win it comprehensively to earn the bonus point. We had to win with a bonus point with a team of 10 players out of which 3 were debutants!

As we entered the field, we started joking that we had great chance to win this. A nervous team always does that. I said to my team mate -

"What if we win today? With the bonus point...!"
"Yeah.. majja aayega na?"
"Main toh bacchon ko kahaniyaan sunaunga iss match ki"
"Kisske bacchon ko?"
"Apanne bachnon ko... unko toh sunni hi padengi na kahaniyaan"
"Oh.. I see.. majboori hai.."
"Saale... "
"We will win this match, then the next , then the semis"
"uske baad finals bhi"
"bas bhai, mazak mat kar"
"shuru kisne kiya?"
hehehheheehheheeh

But you know what? We won that match... with a bonus point! A small miracle of sorts!

We beat every team after that and kept advancing to the next rounds.

Today we had our finals!

Finals: King of Kricket - MDI '09
PGP IM vs PGPM D

We had our midterms till the afternoon. We give one exam ever month, its slowly turning into a hobby. In the evening, we had the match. I had slept for 3 and a half hours the night before. In fact, as I write this, in the last 48 hours, I have slept only for 3 and a half hours. I have no idea how I am I writing this.

A tired but upbeat team- tired beacuse of the numerous lectures we have to attend and the exams we have to give, upbeat coz we were slowly getting used to winning.

We were up against PGPM D. The team that we had lost our only match against. Their team was well rested. They had practiced all week long. We had given mid terms all week long.

We lost the toss and were put to bat. Rohit made sure things were on track right after a slow start. Everybody chipped in and we posted a humongous total of 143 in 15 overs. The total wasnt that humongous we realised later.

We were on to them in the starting over, only to be clobbered in the middle overs. They required 47 in the last 5 overs ith their best batsman on the crease. The last over required them to make 12. An easy task on this ground I would say. Thankfully the bowler and the fielders kept their cool to skew the run to ball ratio to 4 runs in the last ball.

As Ankur ran in to bowl the last bowl, I could sense that he knew we were gonna win this. A bowler has this intution - just before he leaps into his stride - it reveals all. The batsmen missed the ball.

I didnt count, but for like 3 seconds, we didnt celebrate. No yessss, no shouting, yelling etc. We just looked at each other to make sure that we had won. We had to make sure that the cherry on the cake was firmly in place. Small grins exploded into full blown celebrations. The team went beserk. Nobody knew what to do when you with the championships. I went on to grab a stump. I have seen cricketers do it on TV. Then you go hug your team-mates. It takes time to sink in - till someone says - "We are the champions!" And then it kicks in.. like a lightening jolt... Thats what we will be known as for the next one year - no one can take it away from us - WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!

About the nervous-funny chat we had before that match, I asked that guy(you know who you are) if he remembered what we thought about winning the tournament a few weeks ago. He said he did. No one gave us a chance... not even us. But we all need our share of miracles to help us believe in ourselves. We got ours... and how!

About the sharing this story with my children, I sure intend to do that.

PS - A special thanks to Ram - our mascot. He made sure he attended all our matches. Call me superstitious, but there is some connection between him and our victories.

PS- PGPM D lost only by 3 runs. Spare a thought for them. But there can be only one winner. And it had to be us.

They had the numbers on their side. They had 60 players to choose from against our 19. A small analysis of their no. of supporters -
At a point - they had more than 25 supporters in the stands. You know how many we had? Only 2! Statistically speaking, they are a far inferior team to IM.
Sorry guys, had a Statistics exam today, hence the analysis. But well played guys. You were against a team who had a lot of heart and a sprinkling of miracles.
Cheers!
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The shy girl in my class...

I still remember the day I first saw her. Its kinda amazing if you ask me. Its amazing coz its been 15 years since the first day that I saw her and I still remeber it like it was yesterday.

She was the perfect shy girl. The kind who hides behind her mother when guests come over... It was the first day of the first grade. I remember kids crying all around me. Some clung to their mothers, some threw tantrums. If I didnt know better, I would say they were going to whip us and make us work. But they didnt, actually compared to what I am doing now, those days were fun. Actually, compared to any days those days were fun.

She walked past me with her eyes fixed to the ground. Her bag was pink and so was her complexion. I love innocence. I guess all men do. I think we value it so much coz of our utter incapability to be innocent ourselves.

She went inside the classroom and took the first bench. I took the second. Right behind her. Then the teacher came and asked me to move to the last bench. I hate being tall. Apparently I was blocking the view of the blackboard for the guys sitting behind me. So I got up and took the last bench. And that was the end of that.

I strictly believe our choices dont change overtime. We like the same kind of people all our lives. If you dont agree, ask yourself who was your best friend in school and whos your best friend now(if both are the same guy, there are fewer people luckier than you), then try to analyse their qualities- you ll find that a lot of those qualities match.

I liked the same girl all my school life. People wonder when I tell them that I couldnt talk to her for almost all of primary school, except for the one time when we had an exam and I forgot a pencil. She was sitting three benches in front of me (the closest we had been till then). I got up from my seat and asked her for a pencil. She looked at me for around 4 seconds. Then quietly took out a pencil and gave it to me-
"This pencil writes very fast,"she said.
Then I didnt know why she said that. But years later she told me that she had seen my mother scold me for not being able to complete the paper on time.

Now dont translate this into love. She didnt love me then. Maybe she liked me. But not more than that. I think till girls dont reach puberty, the only people they can love is their parents. I, I loved her. Men can love at any age. Infact men can love anyone at any age, maybe they are more individualistic or stuff.

As we grew up, her liking for me increased. Or maybe it was just my imagination. But I found her glancing at me. She now tells me that she used to glance at me coz I used to keep staring at her! It would be impolite for her not to even glance. We men are idiots, we give it away.

As she grew, so did her curves. I would be lying if I said while looking at her my eyes or my mind didnt go astray. Puberty is such a gift. It suddenly gives losers like me, enough courage to say something that we have been wanting to say since like 7-8 years or something...

We were in the 8th grade I guess. I asked her to wait after school. Apparently I had some important stuff about Annual day that I had to discuss with her.

After school as I walked down the steps with her, I thought to myself - I can walk these steps all my life with her.

I held her hand, softly at first. She stopped but she didnt pull her hand away. Her eyes were fixed on the stairs. I thought of all the things I could say. You practise saying things in front of the mirror and stuff, but it just doesnt work. I thought of all the cool things I could say and then came up with this -
"I wish these stairs would never end."

Really! I came up with that. I was so proud of myself. She looked at me, then held my hand firmly. I took that as a yes.

Years later she told me that that line was the lamest excuse to hold her hand. I pity all those guys whom I have suggested this line. No wonder all my male friends are single.

After our board exams, we made sure we gave the same entrance exams. Both of us wanted to get into engineering. She got better scores than me(like always) and chose Electronics in a top notch college. I managed to get in Computers in the third best college in the area. She cancelled her admission, much against the wishes of her parents to be with me. She gave up electronics and took up computers for me. Remember I told you a girl loves only after a certain age? I knew that she loved me then.

We gave the CAT last year. She again got a better score and made it in MDI HR in the first round. I was lucky to get in in the last round in the same class. But I got in. Thank God for that.

Today, sometimes, when we go to mess together for lunch, she walks beside me...her eyes fixed to the ground... I whisper something in her ear and she smiles.

Even today when I look at her, I sometimes still see the same innocent girl I had met on the first day of school. Here we are now- we attended the same school for 12 years, then went to the same engineering college in the same class and now are in the same class in MDI. God had a script written for us, didnt he? I love the fact that there is someone who knows me more than I know myself. I hope someday I get to know her, better than she knows me.

I find it amazing... shes the same girl who once offered me a fast pencil so that I could finish my paper on time and not get a scolding from my mother... and here she is walking next to me to the mess of our MBA college. We walk up the stairs to the first floor mess and I say -
"I wish these stairs would never end."
And she bursts out laughing.



P.S. Dedicated to Ek and Sak(names abbreviated to protect identity) of MDI who have been in the same class since the first grade, all through their engineering and now MBA. Someone wrote a script for you guys!

Btw, they are not my classmates. I am in IM(International management). This is more of their story than mine, hence the dedication...

The shy girl in my class...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
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All I wanted to say about the CAT...

[Note: Long post]
[Note: Serious post]
[Recommended reading for CAT takers]


I was thinking about the events and happenings that lead to me getting an admit from MDI, Gurgaon. Was it tough? How much of hard work did I have to put in?
There are gonna be thousands of guys who will take the CAT(rated as among the most difficult exams on the planet) this year too. A few will score a super percentile. But a super-percentile, as I learnt later, doesnt guarantee you a seat in a college.

I will give a blow-by-blow account of how things worked and didnt work for me. In the process, I hope to inspire some of you (I know, tall order) and console the others.

So this is how it started-
I was disillusioned by the way engineering studies are counducted in our country. I had a quater-life crisis back then. I had secured a job with Siemens but I didnt know if I wanted to work. To be honest, I wanted to stay at home, watch movies, play cricket, do every damn thing that I wasnt able to do coz of my 4 years of engineering. Now engineering in Mumbai is a lot different from other parts of the country. Its real bad if u have to waste 4 hours of your day in travelling only to reach college to find the class being cancelled. It becomes even worse when you have been a straight A's student all your life and have to work your ass off to maintain high grades in engineering.

I played with the thought of joining siemens, then decided on not to only to change it on the night before the induction day. I am glad that I took that decesion. Its among the best decesions that I took.
After working for 9 months, getting up early everyday, spending a lot of time doing electrical shit(I am a mechie), I got bored and quit the job. Again, among the best decesions of my life.

I left the job around May. The next months till January, when the CAT results came, were among the best days of my life. I did almost everything I wanted- played cricket like crazy, slept like crazy, saw every sitcom I could get my hands on, in short, enjoyed life! One of my really close friends felt that it was among the most eventful year of my life. I agree mate!

May-June-July were mostly fun. One fine day it struck me - what do I do next? Maybe a part-time job - the kind that doesnt reqire me to get up early. How about a course in Film direction? I have always wanted to do that... If not now, then when? I am 22, when will I get the time in the future? If I have to, it has to be now, and it has to be from the best institute in the country.

I applied for FTII's direction course (Gods like Ashutosh Gowariker, Sanjay Leela Bhansali are the products of this college). At the same time I got a call for part-time teaching at Career Forum teaching CAT. While I was teaching, I gave the exam for FTII and got selected in the top 40. After the interview, I made it to the top 10 in the country, but that wasnt good enough. They took in the top 6 and that was the end of that.

Around August, I became serious about CAT. FTII was behind me, I didnt have a full-time job, I didnt have a plan B. That is when I pulled up my socks and started giving mock tests of every god damn coaching classes.

I gave the JMET, CAT, SNAP, MICAT(for MICA)... The colleges I had filled up were-
1. MDI, Gurgaon
2. IMT, Ghaziabad
3. SIBM, Pune
4. SCMHRD, Pune
5. MICA, Ahmedabad
6. SIIB, Pune
7. Welingkar, Mumbai

In that order of importance...

The first results that came in were in Jan were JMET. I logged on - You have not Qualified for the next round. Bad start. One out. But I wasnt too sad. Jmet is for the IITS and though I like IITs, I wouldnt wanna spend two years of my life there.

The next results were the biggie - CAT. I was extremely cool about the results. I remember, I checked it around 4 in the afternoon. My friends were making franctic calls to each other, trying to find out each others scores. I was as cool as can be. I wasnt expecting much. And I also figured out that me getting excited isnt going to change the results. I logged on - 98.37%ile with a expected poor performance in DI.

Then came the SNAP results. I had a God-score of 101 in SNAP. I had virtually converted all Symbiosis institutes or so I thought.

As expected, I got calls from all institutes I had applied to.

I was sure to convert SIIB and SIBM, but was sckeptical about SCMHRD because of their vague selection criteria.

First, the SIIB results came out. "You have been waitlisted - WL123"
There hasnt been a time when I have felt worse. A college like SIIB doesnt pick me up? I aint good enough for SIIB? Its 6th on my list yaar! If I cant get into this how can I get into the top ones?

Next result - SCMHRD - "We are sorry to inform you that you havent been selected for the program at SCMHRD". Okay. This one I can understand. HRD looks for work experience or whatever no one know. They rather flip a coin :P

Next- SIBM- now this one I was surely gonna convert. Its by far the best GD and Interview I have had ever! I was so damn confident about this one. I had already started dreaming of this place and how I will buy a bike and travel from Pune to Mumbai on weekends. I logged on - "We are sorry to inform...." I didnt read the next line. They didnt take me in- is all I could tell myself. They rejected me. The feeling of selfworthlessness cant be described in words.

3 of the 7 colleges I had applied to had rejected me. I had a God-score! What happened? How bad am I? What mistake do I make? Havent I prepared well? I am sure I have! I have given 8 hours per day reading shit like who is India's X minister and who heads Y committe.

MICAT- is the additional exam that you give for MICA. MICAT is supposed to check how creative you are. Now this is my turf. I gave the exam. Waited patiently for the results.
The results came in - "You are not selected for..." I kept looking at the screen.
4 out of the 7 colleges had rejected me. Dude? I got selected in God-damn FTII!! Thats the most creative exam on the whole continent! I get selected in FTII but ant creative enough for Mica?!

Now the only colleges left were MDI, IMT and Welingkar. The chances were bleak for mdi and imt since they are among the top instis in the country. If I cant make to normal colleges, how can I make it to the top ones? I will take a Welingkar. I am sure I will get it. But I have a 98.37 for pete's sake! Welingkar at that kinda score?

I used to find guys who cant even write basic English writing posts on Pagalguy saying - I have get admission to XYZ college. Aaj raat parti hogi. Chers!
I made sure that I swore atleast once at the college in question.

Then came the IMT results. I had a so-so GD and an average Interview. I wasnt expecting a convert, but atleast I got into the waitlist. "Game on," I said to myself. Maybe, just maybe, I might get in.

The most important results came in next. MDI- Waitlisted. Expected. Had an horrible interview. Now, when I think about it, I realise that I was depressed by the kinda results I had got. Here I was running out of colleges I can apply to and still havent got a convert.

Slowly and steadily my friends were getting converts. Everyone had orkut taglines changed to -Joining XXX.. 22 days to go.. some stuff like that.. Colleges are starting in 22 days? I still dont have an convert.

I started applying for jobs. But recession had kicked in and no one was willing to give me any jobs. BPOs loved to stay away from you if you were an engineer, which I was.

I was caught up. Tense. But like my friends tell me now, that I masked it pretty well. Infact even if you go back and read my posts dated around that time, they were still funny.

So here I was, 20 days remaining for colleges to start, with no job, no college. I felt like I had taken the worst decesion by leaving Siemens. Life can only be understood in hindsight.

I kept checking the waitlist movement at IMT. Somehow I had a feeling that I might just make it in this B school.

I remember that afternoon- I logged in on to the IMT site. I put in my id and password. The screen went blank for a moment. Then a new page appeared on screen -
"Congratulations...You have been selected for..."

I read the fifteen letter word again and again. Congratulations. When was the last time I read that? I didnt do what they do in the movies. No pumping my fists in the air. No shouting, No yelling. I just sat on the chair... letting it sink in... and then let myself sink in the chair... Then got up from the chair. Made a tight fist, and ever so slowly said - Yes.

The time I had spent studying, giving mock-cats, learning about minister X and committe Y, all of a sudden, I felt, had paid dividends. A feeling of gratitude took me over. I dont remember how many times must I had thanked the computer that day.

In the last week, I got a call from MDI too. And I took that up. But I still love IMT. In the way you love your girlfriend you had when you were 15.

Now when I look back, I feel everything fell in place. But I still wonder, the Intellectual capital that comes to MDI and IMT is way better than the colleges that rejected me. I dont get it, if the country's elite b-schools can accept me, then what are the traits that these other bschools look at? And its obvious that they are doing something wrong, else they would be higher up the rankings.

Also, I dont think CAT is a good way to judge students. Now, for eg, had I made one mistake in the paper, I wouldnt be in IMT or MDI. At the same time, had I made one mistake less, I would have been in the IIMs. The point being - CAT is definitely not the only parameter that a college should look at. But it should be remembered that CAT is the most transparent way of selecting students. The lesser of the evils.

Note: The whole point of this post has been to let you know that as an aspirant, you might lose hope and heart sometime - DONT!
Dust off the Dust..
.. Just Kick Butt!

All I wanted to say about the CAT...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
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End of Term 0!



So I am back. Not that I wasnt here already. Its just that I was living the zombie life. We had our end-terms which ended yesterday.
So, the last few days were really weird, studying till 5 in the morning with friends, drinking loads of tea with bhujiya (thanks JD), downloading ppts, cribbing, cursing our luck and the people who came up with the idea of MBA altogether.

Anyway, we are now done with our exams, and the foreign batch is here. We decided to throw a double party - one to welcome them, the other to celebrate end of our exams. We had a party the next the day too. I have no idea of the reason for the party, but who needs a reason?

The week before the exam was so damn hectic that I was forced to ask myself - Where is the pause button on this damn thing?

After the last exam we were sitting at nescafe in MDI, wondering what to do with our free time. It happens when you are not used to having free time.

This is an excerpt of our convo -
Me: Kal kya activity hai?
Rahul: I think kal kuch nahi hai.
JD: Kuch bhi.. there has to be something.
Rahul: No, I think its like...er.. like... a holiday.
me: Really? Can anyone confirm that.
Akshay: Yeah. We have the next two days free.
me: two days?
Akshay: 48 hours man. This has to be the defining moment of our lives.

So I got really pumped up and came with a to-do list-

Things to do in the next 48 hours-
1. Clean the desktop. I dont know why there are so many icons on my desktop.
2. Cut your nails. As in my nails.
3. Read the newspapers. I have been stacking the newspapers since the last 20 days. There is a lot to read.
4. Watch a bit of TV
5. Clean the room.(I have started to sound like my mom now!)
6. Yeah, sleep for 10 hours(atleast)
7. Read blogs. Its been ages since you have commented on peoples blogs. People hate you now.
8. Watch the movies and the sitcoms you have been downloading since the last one month.
7. Teach the foreigners hindi.

Okay, I know my hindi isnt anything to write home about(write in hindi ofcourse). But it is anyday better than them.

Btw, the other day, we had this football match against the normal management batch(I make them sound so low-profile.. he he he). Now since we had europeans in our team, we kicked butt.
For all you desh-bhakts, dont worry, the HR batch beat us in the next game. But seriously, how did HR beat us, I mean, isnt that batch supposed to be full of girls?

I did an analysis and realised that it was because of lack of co-ordination(ah! Genius!)
But seriously, its because of the language problem. For eg -

When Vikram says - Abbe le, ball le..
Nicholas thinks - Lays? I will have salted.

It has come as a surprise, but subconciously we use a lot of hindi words while talking to the firangs - like- aacha, hai na, nahi, chalo etc etc. And not that we dont know english, there are people here who have a 99% in Verbal but still make the same mistake while talking!

So thats all about the two days of timepass that we did. Want to write more but am short on time. How much can one do in 48 hours anyway? Anyway, its raining out here. And I gotta rush to enjoy it. Unlike Mumbai, rain here, stays for around 148 seconds and then makes the next appearance in 5 days. Off to get wet. Au revoir!


End of Term 0!SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
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