From the Memoirs- 2
Who started the Facebook group?
I don’t know.
But who ever did that did a wonderful job of creating and cementing relations.
As we crossed the gates of Great Lakes, we were not going into an exodus of random people. Instead we were seeing live versions of the photos we had seen and stalked. We knew people, we knew that they were our friends.
The virtual friends got down into the physical space of their bodily existence and then began a saga of a journey called MBA.
We danced, crawled on our knees, learned salsa and let go off our inhibitions.
We learned eating food at the stipulated times. Sloshing sambar onto their plates were the roti clan. The sadam clan relished their breakfast with aloo parathas with melting makhan on top of it.
We learned to adjust. We learned to live. We learned life.
We made friends. And as they say, we earned some friends too.
Life was never made easy. But with friends, we just could get going.
The first term was always difficult. To get us into the spirit and hectic spree of MBA, it took time. The engineering guys who hardly took any time off their schedule to study were actually glued to their books. The comm/arts/science guys who barely attended classes back there, were in the classes, actually listening to the Profs. with their eyes, ears and brain open. (How good a liar am I?)
From bath attached rooms, we graduated to common bathrooms and queuing to finish off the business. We brushed and talked at the same time. Our roomies doubled up as alarm clocks, always ensuring that we went to the 8 am classes.
As one term went by, we went home and but were eager to be back with our Wolfpack.
The goodies from the homes were shared, We ate khakras and banana chips side by side. We munched on the namkeens and devoured the pedas and rosgullas. We savored ethnicity. We understood the nation’s palette.
We were the future of India nestling the souls from different parts of the country, yet kindling the soul. Well, that was a bit of context.
Thats for now, and more to follow.
From the Memoirs-1
As our thoughts resurfaced, we understood the plights we were going through.We were distraught with our wallets gone lighter by the day. We seemed to know the post office guy by his first name because of the sheer number of envelopes we’ve posted (to B-schools of course) Those who were bad in remembering numbers knew their credit card number by heart as they keyed it in numerous time a day.
Movie Review- Jilla
Jilla explored the hearts of the masses only to excavate high hope-dipped disappointment.
With 2 stalwarts adorning the crest of the movie, the story should have been crafted for sheer exuberance of talent. Jilla depicted how talent of the Indian pinnacle of acting, Mohanlal was wasted to its core.
With too many songs and many uninteresting sequences, the movie undertakes a vicious cycle of events, a never ending loop of unnecessary stuff.
Illayathalapathy Vijay was impressive with his charming smile but nothing out of the world. His acting seemed just way too common, the mass masala flavored one. His timing and flair for comedy has deteriorated over the years. Neason’s attempt to portray the policeman Vijay was nothing but sheer mockery for the whole police force. With the transformation to show what a police officer ought to be, Vijay’s mannerisms shows how a police officer should not be sans the sanctity of his mission.
Smoking and abusing was what Mohanlal’s role confined to. Portrayed as a don, Mohanlal’s Shiva would have opened doors of classic acting to Tail cinema, had the script had a better yielding character for him. A clear deviation from the Georgekuttys of the world, the paradigm shift of Lalettan from Dhrishyam to Jilla calls for utter disappointment for him to have chosen the script.
Kajal Agarwal was pretty on screen showing less skin and more khakhi. Merely used as a pretty prop to extend the duration of the movie, she was either seen making faces to Vijay or sporting that smile.
Of the other actors who shared screen space with the trio, antagonist Sampath steals the show with a small but effective portray of ruthlessness. Soori was cracking witty remarks that failed to induce nothing more than a curve of lips.
Direction, editing, songs etc. etc. has nothing to boast about. Too many songs spoiled the mood as the movie, if devoid of its extensions could have well be curtailed the movie to less than 150 minutes.
Verdict: A mass masala movie for Vijay fans. Expect nothing during the 182 minutes inside the theatre- then its Paisa Vasool.
The Drenched Down Diaries
The Light that chose to Shine
The Idea of a Sunday Morning Breakfast
A 2*2 life
Well, my mom, too must have had the same feeling.
That feeling in her kept me at the top till my 5th standard.
But then, things began to go out of her hand.
And marks went out of mine.
Slowly I sank into the ocean of competition. Went from the top to the top 5 to the top 10 and deeper and deeper.
I have had the privilege to touch the ocean bed once. And mind it, it sucks. All alone in the vast expanse of darkness. Never want to cast a glance again. Crossed fingers got intertwined!
Well, as time progressed, single digit classes went on to double digit classes. And single digit ranks too followed suit.
As graduation graduated to a phase called post graduation, I was barely hanging on the shaky branch called 3 point CGPA.
And yes, I wanted to be a topper there too. I had made up my mind to do it in the beginning, as always. But, as always, my mind deviated to the actual calling, to do what I was good at- being idle.
There was this lady, the descendant of the zinc baron, all set to the strings into her course of action and was of course beyond ‘question’.
Also a lady whose name followed the 1st avatar of Vishnu kept that tag ‘topper’ forbidden to others.
The third lady, who is to finance as Prof Minerva McGonagall is to Transfiguration, sealed the fate.
Guys, shame on you.
Shame, shame, puppy shame, man! Oh me!
I was caught busy striving to seal the shakiness of the branch. Hence couldn’t pick on the mocking and stayed put.
The weight on the branch was shaking down those who had a less tighter grip on them.
We, the MBAs from a premier B-school, who believe that we are God’s gift to mankind and bear a diadem encrusted with gems dazzling with innate braininess, often use 2*2 matrices to work out on the aspects of management.
After hours of futile thoughts and bizarre streaks of imagination,
After many cups of coffee and midnight oil burning,
After going through hundreds, no, thousands of research papers,
I have come up with a theory that could set the earth off its course.
A path breaking invention, the brain child of a thought leader designed to classify parameters that could make or break the formation of the future – a blessing to the mankind in disguise.
I present before you, a 2*2 matrix, one of its kind- for you, for the future CEOs.
Did you mean to say that some teeny-weeny company called Boston Consulting Group has already come up with this? Is it? For corporations, that too to analyze their business lines.
We lack IPR. We lack IPR big time.
Et tu America. Et tu BCG. Et tu world. No offenses otherwise!
Cricket is a religion as far as we Indians are concerned.