The Ringside View

My attempts at writing have always been stacked up in old diaries and scraps of yellowing paper.Time,neglect and phylum insecta however, always ensured that the gibberish i scrawled, never would see the prying gaze of an alien eye.Years later, i still scribble once in a while - this time in word documents stored in some obscure folder somewhere in the innards of my C drive.I am unearthing some of them and opening them up for the interested.To get what i call - The Ringside view.

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Location: Bangalore, Karnataka, India

Thursday, June 04, 2009

And let there be light

Going to B school is like packing your bags and going to Tahiti. One morning you decide to quit your job, borrow truck loads of money and set off like the great sailors of yore. And like them great sailors, you don’t have a freakin clue what you are going in search of. But you can feel an excitement like you have never felt in your boring jobs for gods knows how long and that is reason enough, you convince yourself.

There is one difference never the less between the men of the Spanish Armada and us, B school going types. The former very often do not return. Sea, sickness or over ambitious fellow seamen will generally ensure the journey is exciting but short. But in the rare cases in which they do return, it’s with the exuberance of having found new continents or the uninhibited joy of having a good many pots of gold by the deck side. The latter on the contrary, return for sure. With or without a world view; with or without answers; and in such times, with or without a job even.

Anyways, talked to an old classmate of mine over chat the other day. Some exotic US business school he was doing the soul searching in. Congratulations, he wished me; on graduating in one piece. I reciprocated. He asked me about the Bangalore weather and I asked him about the American economy. Both incidentally had been dull and cloudy.

Now, when two freshly minted B school grads meet, it’s like the meeting of two pistol totting cowboys with finger on the trigger. It’s about who lets it fly first. I was conscious but still erred. Taking the Dravidesque slow and steady ‘How are doing – is it fun out there – are the women pretty’ approach was bloody well long winded. He went for the jugular almost immediately. ‘So?’, he asked me. ‘How was the B school experience and all that?’. I paused and then paused more. He had let fly before I did. ‘Well, it was touted as a rollercoaster ride and it bloody well was. I liked it. It was well worth the effort’, I replied.

‘Mmm’, he responded; clearly unsatisfied with the lack of depth in the answer.

‘But that said and done, the bottom line is – the MBA is not the answer to all woes in life. I so well hoped it would be. Like at the end of it all, there would be bright light and reason and the meaning of life like in a 20th Century Fox production. But alas, that’s not how it works’

‘Well said. I completely agree’, comes the reply, with a smiley and all.

We MBA types like reassurance. Now, who doesn’t? But I am still left wondering. When does the bright light appear?

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Blogger Sudhindra said...

For that you will have to understand Kaami's e-mail signature :)

June 08, 2009 3:37 AM  

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