a bunch of monkeys called the yearbook team wanted me to pen down in 400 words my experience of IIM I. I tried, but failed miserably as there are a lot of things to write about I couldnt just decide what to leave out….Hope you will find this an interesting read…and remember most of it is worded humorously to increase the readability …..so pardon me if by any chance you feel that I have inadvertenly taken humor a bit to far…

Sojourn-I

The overture
Someone like me, who hated managers to the core, for their incessant non value adding interference to every productive operating activity, should have a lot to say about their sojourn at this management institution, popularly called “Planet –I”. I had always wanted to do an MS, and in all honesty can say that management for me was the last resort of an extremely desperate self. (My score in GRE was not extraordinary, neither is my academic career. September 9/11 just added to my woes, with scholarships for Indian students drying up considerably). Desperation, as I have found out, can be a double-edged motivator. I prepared very hard for the entrance exam, refused a couple of on-site opportunities and an early promotion, took a couple of months of forced leave, put my job at stake for this pursuit. However, as luck would have it, I found myself dumbstruck in the examination hall, attempted only 74 questions and scored a measly 94.8 percentile. The journey from that point on to the time when I actually landed here on Planet-I is beyond the scope of this article. So, believe, when I say, that “The story of my life (as most lives here) is not for the faint of the heart. (That’s one reason, why I choose not to tell it to any counterparts of the fairer sex. I spoke once, for 15 seconds after, 14 minutes were over in the 15 min long Group Discussion and stuttered for the first couple of minutes in the interview. I think I will leave this interlude to the Planet-I story here.

First Yard: The Inception

Planet-I is an experience, which cannot be communicated: it can only be experienced. The bakra was one hell of an experience, and I was convinced that I had come to the right place. If these people could really push me to jog and exercise, every day at 6 AM for a good amount of time, I would surely achieve one of my long time goals of losing some weight. After going through the first reading on BTO about organizational metaphors (psychic prisons, jazz musicians and chimpanzees tea party), I was convinced that I had arrived at the right place. Friendship, with everybody around, took some time, as I was never very sure that they would accept someone not so suave, and slightly dumber as a confidante. However, sharing cigarettes and drinks helped me in socialization with a certain set of people very fast. It was then that I decided that I wouldn’t’ refuse either of them to whosoever chose to ask them of me. (Definitely has paid dividends in the long run, I think). Most girls, however, seemed convinced that the company they kept was the only reflection of their self, chose to be selectively friendly and made the institute appear like an engineering college. I found this pretty funny, and rather inappropriately chose to care a damn. (Friendship with most of them, has improved almost drastically with the passage of time). Not one of those to be constrained by fictitious boundaries( the dilli wala’s, the IITians, the people with experience, those from DU), I chose to befriend all kind of people: the intellectuals(are never out of their room once the sun goes down), the CA’s(believe that accounting entries and accompanying standards are the panacea to all evils plaguing the human race), the ultra-cool (read care a damn), the sophisticated (like to communicate in English as they believe that the Hindi-speaking have no future in India), and the cribbers.(believe that words speak louder than actions and that awareness about issues is more important than any perceptible changes). These sets are not mutually exclusive, by the way.

The whole Nine Yards

I tried to find a larger-than-life reason for my existence at “I” and choose to major in Finance. It turned out to be an enlightening experience; frustratingly difficult at times, pleasantly rewarding at others. Characters were tested and formed during events such as elections, placements, IRIS and Utsaha. Miraculously, we chose to stuck together, and were able to pull off a stupendous show each time. (With scope for improvement, as it the case with successful completion of any event). The best time, of course, used to be within the classroom, what with intellectual games such as word CP’s being played all the time. There were those who had something to say, those who had to say something because their 10 percent were at stake, and those master CP-makers whose contribution, was contrived to throw the discussion into a wild pandemonium, for everybody to bask in aftermath. Many an intellectual tongue was forced to die a painful death by the collective criticism of the class. For some however, the class had nothing but bountiful praise at any given time. These were the chosen few, me included, for all of the two years. The fun did not end with the classes; god-send holidays were enjoyed to the hilt with shameless sleep throughout the day and drunken revelry in the parties organized at night. Group work was a fascinating exercise and what transpired in several of Group IV interactions is well known to most of us. Group work reaffirmed my belief that the best way to lead is by example and not by direction. Despite the challenges that we faced in dividing up the work or taking individual responsibility for the abstract entity called the “group”, we managed to ensure that our efforts were more or less synergistic in nature. Though Group IV ceases to exist formally at this point in time, the memories of group 4 feedback sessions, reunions will remain with all of us for quite some time.

The second year was quite different from the first one. It brought with it, the respite that most of us were desperately seeking. With a lot lesser classes on hand, most of ended up being confused no end and couldn’t figure out what to do with the spare time that they had so desperately been seeking. The spare time inspired many to gym and jog, watch interesting movies and television and in general spend time doing activities that were closer to their heart. A lot of people seemingly decided to get over with most credits as soon and possible (this brings to mind the one-night stands and instant gratification that most of us are so desperate for); I, however, decided to spread them across terms to ensure that I never very free. (An empty mind, as they say, is a hornet’s nest). And then it happened, quite unexpectedly too. The fine morning that we returned from our 4th term vacation, we saw them: They were the French. Yeah, we had heard rumors that all the six exchange students were femme fatales, but the experience was quite unlike what we had hoped for in our wildest dreams. All of a sudden, we found the suitable boys shaved and dressed up for their meals, in hope of a rendezvous with these women. For someone like me, who is not quite a woman’s man, they were the kind of necessary evil that Planet-I couldn’t do away with.(what with a B-Schools ratings being decided upon by things such as student exchange programs) Difficult as it was for them, they mingled and soon became one amongst us. I was forced into friendship with them by our very own Goyal, as he, being busy with IRIS, had no time to entertain these women and by virtue of a trip to Panchmari, which was organized by common friends. I tried to maintain my distance with them (familiarity breeds contempt, don’t you know?), but was amazed at the humaneness of these earthly French beings. Most of them turned out to be extremely simple, loveable people, who were in search of their destiny in life. The time spent with them, was fun-filled to say the least. They taught us drinking, partying, swimming, a little bit french and assorted things such as french-kissing to some lucky ones amongst us. All said and done, there was never a dull moment with them around us.

IRIS 2005 was a trailblazer, in more ways than one. As always I decided to things which I hadn’t done before. Here’s a sample.

• Chose to organize a case study named “The Chief Underpants Officer” as a part of I-RISING, rather than the rote and uninteresting strategy-based case studies being organized by B-Schools all around
• Donned the hood of paparazzi for IRIS-newsletter, i-balls, dedicated to bring the truth to the forefront
• Asked to become an internal judge for the Spot game, Meet the press, and given the mandate to ask difficult questions, asked questions such as “How much change is good change?” and “Do you think that this is the right time for the Indian women to burn their bra’s as a lot of people feel that the they seem to be tying the Indian women down…?”
• Met Dr. Palash (of Euphoria fame) and enquired whether all of his band were full-time professionals

And these last couple of months can most appropriately be described by the comfortable numbness that has dawned upon most of us. It’s the kind of feeling that dawns upon you upon the end of an era, the era that that was almost too surreal to be true. There are so many things, that still remain to be done; meet the people whom I haven’t yet been able to spend time with, thank my friends for being there for me when I needed them most, preparing for that job which would be perfect sinecure that I am desperately looking for et al. I too have been feeling too dumbstruck to do anything these days. I guess it is one of those times when I am waiting for things to happen to jolt me into something new. Till that time however, I would do well to live through this without any guilt. (ek lamha jee lene de…)

kamar baandhe huye chalane pe yaan sab yaar baithe hain
bahut aage gaye, baaqii jo hai.n tayyaar baithe hain

na chhe.D ai nikahat baad-e-bahaarii, raah lag apanii
tujhe aThakheliyaa.N suujhii hai.n, ham bezaar baiThe hai.n
basaane naqsh-e-paa-e-raharavaa.N kuu-e-tamannaa me.n
nahii.n uThane kii taaqat kyaa kare.n laachaar baiThe hai.n

najiibo.n kaa ajab kuchh haal hai is daur me.n yaaro.n
jise puuchho yahii kahate hai.n ham bekaar baiThe hai.n

kahaa.N gardish falak kii chain detii hai sunaa ‘Insha’
Ganiimat hai ki ham-suurat yahaa.N do chaar baiThe hai.n