The Rank Holder Friend

“How is her looks? I mean her statistics” you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to make out what the scene is. My male counterparts were busy elaborating the fleeting glance outside the principal cabin. Ok! So there is a new admission in my class, another geeky soul is making into the world of management and of course is going to be my new class mate. And she is already in the news- She is a rank holder, awesome!

I was not excited at least super excited as much as my friends were to meet Miss fresh face. Blame it on my advertising career. I have been fortunate on a regular basis to see high heeled models up close in real life endorsing gold, beedi, washing powder, what not on earth. I have always found them incredibly dumb with all glamour and no brain syndrome. And this new girl for sure is not a beauty pageant winner, so why hurry after all she is going to be my colleague for the next two long years of grill and gruel

“There’s an element of management in Ramayana too” can anyone relate to what I am saying “My professor with his dangling spectacle pointed his lean fore finger on to the first row students, waking up the 2 row guys. That’s MBA- you can add a dash of principles and equations to any remote topic and can still evolve a management solution; Practicing such acts regularly will entitle you a management consultant tag.

But then what has Ramayana to do with management, as much as I know Rama and his brethren never had a business background they were royal souls and same is applicable to Ravana. None of us had any clue about what my professor was hinting at but then being management students we refused to give up. Few talked about the power of crisis management and HR practices implemented during warfare against Ravana. Breach of privacy act against Shoorpanika, Insurance claim after hanuman attack towards Lanka restoration, yeah we did try really hard. So much that my professor decided to give us a break in between his epic session.

Relieved and rejuvenated I picked my cell phone to check in any missed calls. And that’s when I noticed the girl passing me by. The rhythmic collision of her anklets made her presence audible even before she came visible. I took a while to sum up my senses before I could turn and actually confront her. But by then she was out of my sights, leaving only traces of foot chimes from distance.

God I missed her!!!

Assignments came piling on as days passed. By now I knew her name and the place where she belonged to and of course her much talked about first rank in B com. I must say my work experience never came in handy while interacting with girls, I remained shy and stupid and I never dared to make the first move. I gazed her in awe during internal exams seeing the amount of extra sheets she demanded leaving me with no doubts on her academic credentials.

Relationships at times come alive with most unlikely reasons, in my case it was accountancy. I hated the subject and could never differentiate between a balance sheet and bed sheet. Debits and credits were like villains in Yash Chopra flicks. And there she was born with super affluent accounting background, and so much of love for the subject that immediately made her my study partner.

“How many years of work experience do you have? I mean that’s cool, you work you earn on your own then you decide to study all over again! But then you said copy writer, has that got anything to do with copyrights”?

“Yeah, not exactly”

That was our first private session and I wished I got some breathing space to interrupt her with replies. She was spontaneous with child like enthusiasm to know more about me in depth. I never thought library could be such a nice place for meetings, within couple of months I visited library more than the college canteen, and yes I had a beautiful reason...

My Rank Holder friend!

The MBA Life.

 That was the second month of my MBA tenure. And I already belonged to the misfit category in my class, not that I was finding the subjects unusual but certainly the decorum. It’s highly unlikely for an advertising freak to make it to a fully formal, etiquette bound world of corporate culture. By the way I was a copy writer; I got salary for exaggerating dormant facts and subtle realities through captivating captions and path breaking ideas (that’s an exaggeration again). My job demands creativity, out of the box thinking and my increments has a lot to do with my consistent psyched performance throughout the year. 

That’s advertising; you are paid to fantasize sanitary napkins even when you are a man.

MBA world was a total contrast to my work settings. I had to ask permission if I had to pee. There were leave forms, stringent academic assessment patterns and of course nerd, cranky but never the less resourceful professors. I hardly visited library, and never bothered about my presentations or the grades. For me the only comforts were in visiting the delectable premises of canteen, which offered me the grandeur to hog like a pig without bothering about the consequential bills. I am sure I can talk about my canteen menu authentically than speaking on Indian economy or financial accounting. I remained simple, clear and focused when it comes to ordering food through out my post graduation. It had to be chicken in any form, Chappathy if you are lucky if not suffice with Porotta. And wind up with a customary mug of cold coffee. 

By this time I had been x-rayed relentlessly by my Malayali peers, few found me geek, reserved and humble. While a few thought I am the dark horse kind, deliberately playing subtle. I don’t blame them as one of my professors habitually quotes “I was being carefully careless”.

For me MBA was all about ‘two years of academics, few months of studying, fewer days of exams and a revived get back to advertising’. I knew my don’ts precisely than my dos. “I am not here for friendship, politics, and academic excellence” I am just here to realize my father’s dream of seeing me as an MBA holder, nothing else.

Little did I know that in these two years I would do what I had never planned in my life.

‘Falling in love’

A Black & White Past.

I have been repeatedly reminded by many people that everyone in this world is born with a purpose. A reason that leads one through life’s ups and downs, through many tears and countless smiles. Farhan Akhtar had described this beautifully in the bollywood flick Lakshya. I still remember the goose bumps I had when Preity Zinta pouted wisdom to Hrithik Roshan to have Lakshya in life. She was brilliant and freaky hot in those Barkha Dutt hair do, uffff!!!.

The movie made me realize what I was missing in my life. That evening I had one full Chicken biriyani followed by a plate of Kothu Porotta and fresh lime juice making me think hard why am I born. There must be some Lakshya you know, some unknown significant reason like a previous birth unfulfilled mission or some crap like that. May be I am too exaggerating, but then I got to know the purpose of my existence. I can’t live all my life pondering over biriyanis, kebabs, colas and women. I got to be ready for what I am destined to. Lakshya is the word.

Actually speaking I have had such thoughts many times before in life. In fact every time I did a maths sum and got caned by Lucy Miss in 10th standard, I have asked this question to myself. It’s not that I haven’t felt the need for a goal in my life. The goals I found were momentary, they lacked a severe instinct, a cringing desire that could me over and put me on a firm mission.

Years went by and nothing worth mentioning happened in my life.

I passed board exams , flunked engineering entrances, got rejected by umpteen colleges , had practically zero hunk life, finally did graduation, got a job, got fired, made it to advertising and suddenly my life changed.

I decided to quit my job and do MBA...