Friday, March 23, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
My stomach has not been at its best. It churns and sends a signal to visit the bathroom. Not new to this but this is the first time that it is being unreasonable from its side.
Last time the stomach played with me was when I was cornered in an ac room by the bespectacled man who seemed to know more than what my entire set of neuron can hold. He asked, scribbled and pointed to crawling graphs and numbers that seemed to make sense only when I left the room. Like the door of elevator, stomach turned normal after I reached the door knob.
With a population of 2000 in my b-school and over 60% of them being boys, I just couldn’t get a boyfriend. I thought I was socially challenged and that was the worse feeling than your close friend holding hands with a guy who has been acclaimed as one of the best looking in the campus. Tragedy took turns; the best men were with worst girls and decent men delved in their own worlds with a bottle of alcohol not able to get away from their past. In all, I was left stranded wondering what is wrong with me.
If you can sense the connect between the above two paragraphs, in the world of career and matrimony, it is truly the survival of fittest.
Apparently, placements proved that Darwin’s findings don’t seclude to the rush of suitable mates.
There is a common connect when it comes to either getting hooked or beating the wisest at the placements. Both give a satisfaction of achievement beyond the natural feeling of happiness.
What more? Here it goes:
(1) In placements, it is the package. Nothing beats the package. Try convincing your friend that profile speaks more than package, he will still ogle at the numbers that stretch.
With the boyfriend story, it is the handsome one that is taken notice of.
(2) In placements, the interviewer has no idea what you can do and you have no idea what is needed of you and both begin from scratch.
“Why is your engineering score less?”
(I screwed up my projects with movies and the HOD never liked me)
“I was doing more in college than in school, for example, I started an E-cell in my college..blah blah..leadership..blah blah..versatile..blah blah..dream big.
In relationships, you don’t know how you got there, nor does your claimed better half and everything begins with scratch. Well ya, it ends with a drama.
(3) During placements, you believe you are the best the company can have. Every other contender sitting in the small room with files and neatly combed hair is no match for you. The feeling is Spartan and confidence is enormous.
In a relationship, it’s the same story of false presumption that you are the best the other can get.
(4) Initially, you are willing to wait. Wait for the recruiter and wait for the lover. Then, you get used to it.
(5) You dress the best for placement. You dress what you don’t like but what the recruiter might. You notice that a particular shirt is lucky though it doesn’t go too well with the pant.
In a lovey dovey situation, you dress for the other.
(6) You forget a lot. Forget to take copies of resume or wear a tie or your particular certificate. Your memory elapses in a sudden rush. You tend to lose things everywhere. It’s a natural trauma of situations. You lose track of what is happening with friends and family. Only your job matters.
In a relationship, hmmm..you know better.
(7) You are forever editing your resume or your couple photo for the Facebook profile photo.
(8) Last but not the least; to end it with a truth that tastes funny, in either, you don’t know whether to speak more or less!
Friday, March 9, 2012
He didn’t look up but gestured that it would take him few seconds.
I let out a sigh, obviously to show him that I was irritated.
“Sorry, sorry. I was just in middle of the sum”
He marked my mess card and I just left the place scorning.
This story repeated every day, every meal and every five hours. Our college had 2 food messes
and I never changed my eating place even once.
I saw this particular mess guy who was always involved in some book. He took some time to
mark our mess cards. I didn’t bother to ask him what he was doing.
I studied, did projects, presented papers, wrote tests and even got through a job in the final year
but the mess anna didn’t change a bit.
He sat in the corner, busy with books, scribbling small numbers with his short pencil and smiling
apologetically at everyone who waited for him to mark the mess card.
Time flew and it was last before day of college life when I saw him. He was counting the coupons
of the mess.
I didn’t know why but a feeling inside me pushed to ask him questions.
“Hi, I am leaving college tomorrow”, I told him to start the conversation.
“Nice ji, all the best. Placements ho gaya?”, he asked. (Are you done with placements?)
“Ya, mostly I would be joining in Bangalore. What about you? What were you doing all these
days?, I asked in curiosity.
“Nothing ma’am. Looking at so many people studying MBA travelling from all over country, I
felt I must also study”, he replied.
“Oh! Wow! What course? Why didn’t your parents send you to study?”, I added more questions.
“I don’t have parents. And I need to earn to study. Two reasons”, he gestured smiling at me.
My heart melted and filled with guilt at same time.
“Why are you glum? Come on! They are more under privileged people than me. Feel sorry for
them, not me”, he smiled again
“Take my number”, I told him pulling out my mobile.
“What?”, he asked in confusion.
“Take my number and let me know what books you need. I will courier it. Let me know of you
need something else too”, I explained.
He looked reluctantly and then punched my number in his phone.
“What should I store as your name?”, I asked.
“Yadav, ma’am. Yadav. And thanks. I don’t know what to say…”, he controlled his emotions.
I smiled and joined my friends in the mess. I am to educate one Indian.
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