The Indian MBA dream: Part 2

(pre-read: The Indian MBA dream: Part 1)

The competition was overwhelming. I was sitting with great achievers, many of whom did not know what failure is. I was immediately identified as a disastrous misfit. And not without good reasons:

I’ve had my share of troubles in the past, no doubt about that. Here, I’m a regular feature in the defaulter list and am always threatened with dire consequences. The funny thing about these threats is that they work only against the elitist geeks. I mean, what do you expect from a threat like “We’ll ensure that we cancel your candidature for the XYZ bank..” or "Your attitude is disgusting, now we'll oust you from ABC elite (self proclaimed) club and banish you from any interactions with the alumni.. Thus robbing you the opportunity to meet people, network and build your connections/ career". Do these threats work for someone who has other priorities and chooses not to run the self deprecating race. When I tell the dear bozos that I’m not interested anyway, I get a new dose on how apathetic I am.

Then there are projects. I’ve witnessed a healthy share of pressure in my line of work. But it seems a report on the something as important as, umm.. say “Lessons from HR practices of Zulu tribes of Mozambique” beats the work pressure of a Fortune company. Some of my classmates’ tensions pertaining to projects has been beyond my comprehension. Why would one lose sleep over an assignment which is compiled through some smart googling and would be of no consequence to the world? However, time and again- I’ve seen fun (whatszzat??), family and friends taking a backseat- paving the way for preparedness for cases, quizzes, reports, exams and placements.


It doesn’t stop there. The same tense and busy ones sometimes point out the faults in the system. My patience is of great help in such situations and my exquisite code of politeness prevents me from pouncing and biting off the ears of such complainants. With my temper in check, I have many a times tried to tell that it is not necessarily the system that is flawed. A quick reality check on our actions reveals that it is in fact our drive for the number one spot (nothing else will do!), the willingness to go to any extent to gain that extra inch over your competition that has messed up the environment.

Once when I pointed this out to my colleague, there was some development in the eyes of the conversant. Whether his eyes were actually shooting flames, I could not tell you for sure, but there certainly appeared to be a distinct incandescence. Now, even a person with fewer brain cells than a rodent would realize that the time has come to retreat. At such instances, I quickly take the discussion to something like ‘what great companies have visited our great institution’ and what a bright future one may expect here. A talk on ‘placement always does the trick and the homicidal glare usually dies out of the eyes. Indeed: the grass has always been greener on the other side for humans.

The fact that my reading and writing skills have been murdered is the final nail in the coffin. Maybe I’m being too pessimistic. Or maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve been hobnobbing with so many bowed down hearts that cheeriness sounds bizarre.

So here I let Creed describe my state of mind:

I lie awake on a long, dark night
I can't seem to tame my mind
Slings and arrows are killing me inside
Maybe I can't accept the life that's mine
No I can't accept the life that's mine

Me...I'm rusted and weathered
Barely holding together….


However, there is faint glimmer of hope somewhere. Something about the human spirit that keeps us alive. So Creed acknowledges:


The earth is a voice
Speaking to you
Take all this pride
And leave it behind
Because one day it ends
One day we die
Believe what you will
That is your right
But I choose to win
So I choose to fight
To fight


Fight I will. The weapons may be different and have grown sophisticated over time.


Hint: My present weapon is humor..

The Indian MBA dream: Part 1

If you are from the typical background, there is no escaping the big Indian MBA dream. Aware as you are, there is no dearth of aspirants dreaming to get into a premier B-school. To get a hang of the intensity, try throwing a few words like cut-off, DI caselet, or Paagalguy (this is the most powerful weapon in the MBA-to-be lingo) at your graduating college/ workplace and make a note of the number of people ready to pounce to take the topic forward. Those who cannot relate to it are labelled as dumb and shaky on the career front by the elitist quant and VA sub minute problem solvers.

In some cases, parents & the society have a lot to contribute as well. Why, many a times I was introduced as: “Meet my son, he’s going to appear for CAT as well as other b-school entrance tests this year”. Scarce they may be; but my all experiences/achievements in life and my work at one of the top technology firms of the planet were of course insignificant and definitely not worth a mention.



When I protested, some wise ones told me that I would be eligible to complain only once I’d beaten the system. 

Well, having made it to a tier-2 school I guess I have the right to speak out now.


First a few words about the thrill of the admission process. An underdog for a healthy portion of my academic years, I was never taken seriously (and rightly so) by the wannabe MBA community. Third person discussion featuring me would run in these lines: "Well, it is better to keep away from a guy who hardly takes interest in b-school cut-offs, the placement reports and so on. Ok, this fellow does claim to study in weird hours of the morning but blast him: he did not even join a test series! How can one be so careless about career!?"

As fate would have it, a pleasant shock was due when I got a couple of calls from some okayish schools. Without me knowing, I was elevated to a new brotherhood called the GD/PI call community. Since the hyper community freaked me out, I chose to keep distance and lived life peacefully in my own sweet world. The scene of the first interview was a rude shock to me. One memory I have is of two guys conducting a mock interview amongst themselves, and my o’ my: I was impressed. The answers were peppered with some lovely words and the tone & content was just perfect ("5 years down the line, I would like to see myself in a corporation as a driver of a product line maximizing value for the organization and the country. In this path, I would strive for upliftment of the less fortunate by as inclusive development is deeply rooted in my soul.." There were beautiful answers weaved for questions like “Why MBA?”, “Where do you see yourself 5 years down..”, “Strengths and weaknesses”. Though nothing could be done now, I was a bit disappointed in myself. I mean, what was I thinking? The war figures state that there’r a thousand applicants per interview call, a hundred for each seat in an interview/GD stage. The least I could have done was prepare for this!


Again, lady luck was kind to me and all GD’s I appeared for had no fish market traders (the screamy & hostile ones) and all interviewers I came across were more interested in my work, the books I have read, my adventures on the highways of India and my views on the economy. The process went on and a wait for results meant that I forgot about the whole ordeal in a short while and was happily oblivious to the speculations of results, rumours of result being declared etc. It was indeed a surprise when someone called me up to congratulate and declared that I was through. The story repeated for some other schools as well. Miraculously the underdog was now in a position to choose!

The situation changed overnight back at home. There was a marked elevation in the status. Back in my hometown, I was to discover that I was a talked about figure in my parents’ social circle.


However, the battle in my head was taking it’s toll. The fabric of life: the one I had taken great efforts to weave over time seemed to be falling apart. I was proud of what I had weaved: my friends, my colleagues, the job, some material possessions, the lifestyle and it disheartened me that all this would have to go.


With a heavy heart, I undertook a lonely journey to give myself some time to think and reach a point where I accept this development. So off we went: me and my motorcycle. It took 2 days in the clear skies and a thousand kilometres to think it over, let my past go and brace myself for the new life.

However, what I witnessed was something beyond my preparedness or my dreams.