Are you two a number?

This post was supposed to come sometime during my MBA. Posting it now.

I thought I had met all types of professors. Some who were funny, some who were witty, some who could never be forgotten, some who were best forgotten.

And then came along TLo. Walking with the Staying Alive rhythm, dressed in his floral shirts, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the Laughing Buddha. To say that he had the naughtiest face ever would be an understatement.

Running into me and one of my male friends standing on the staircase talking, he looked at me and then at my friend and then back at me again. Looked with eyes as innocent as a baby's. We both looked at each other and then at him, questioningly. And he asked:

"Are you two a number?"

"Err ... No sir ... Aheem, excuse me sir .... What sir ??!!", stumbling and falling over words.

Since then, he has passed winks whenever he crosses us and words like girlfriend, boyfriend feature during intellectual discussions with him.

Oh, that's a devil smile on that monk face.

Well, he definitely gave me something to write about after all these months!

The Classroom

I know MBA in a certain way; it is what I have done every single day for the last ten months.

Today, as I wake up (or rather unable to sleep) to my last official In-the-Classroom day, I can't help but think of how the many firsts in Nitin Patwa's Basics of Excel class are going to be the lasts in Nirmal Gupta's Strategic Marketing class. I have a come a long way since the time I apprehensively put my namecard in front of me for the first time.

They say that in an MBA, the best learning takes place inside the four walls of a classroom. I couldn't agree more. Here's how the learning experience has been so far:

loading ourselves with assignments from every professor with every prof thinking his assignment to be the most important;

taking Very Important notes (read playing hangman and doodling); texting mindlessly during lectures;

abusing those oh-so-wonderful creations of Mark Zuckerberg and Larry Page & Sergey Brin in the best possible way;

drawing caricatures of peers sitting across the classroom;

laughing shamelessly at professors;

giving supposedly Nobel prize winning answers only to be snubbed by the ever supportive peers;

stealing winks across the room;

reading your presentation slides ten minutes before the lecture or better still, while giving the presentation;

Oh, giving those never ending ten minute quizzes!!;

trying your best to stay awake in class; failing to do so and hence sleeping in class;

making weird and funny looking namecards;

smuggling food inside the classroom;

pointing the camera to your friend who is happily dozing;

forgetting your laptop/phone charger in the hostel room and realizing with a sinking feeling that your one and only source of survival is no longer with you;

passing a piece of paper to make a chain poem;

sitting apprehensively next to unknown people and ending up making friends for life;

pretending to be immersed in the world's toughest math problem while chattering away to glory on the SPJCM sleeping club;

awwwwinngggggg;

chanting to RD hymns;

celebrating twins day,secret santa day;

playing the guitar and singing in class;

pulling down your neighbor's chair at the moment prof is staring in your direction;

playing music on youtube on the projector;

clicking pictures of people sleeping to make a How-to-Sleep-in-class portfolio;

recording videos during lectures and making funny faces into it;
DCPing!;

photoshop-ing yourself and the girls of your class during QT lectures;

engaging in important debates like Apple is best, Apple is best, Apple is best;

trying desperately to upload last minute submissions on the not-so-loyal blackboard;

FAFFing;

admitting to drinking coffee at Irish village;

watching live streaming cricket matches on the projector .......

I could go on but I have to get ready to attend my last peer learning experience .. =)

.. Today, MBA in The Classroom as I know it, ends

.

Team Dynamics

So, the day I had unknowingly been waiting for finally arrived. That is another story that it took my room mate four-five attempts to wake me up on this particular day.

I was finally going to get to play ! And that too a team game, something I have rarely done. FYI, I am no sports person. I don't have medals to speak of. But, I love Sports. And yes, like loads of other professions that I could have excelled in, I have often dreamed about winning the Wimbeldon or an Olympics medal.

Move on to the day. There was going to be a throwball and a volleyball match. Throwball for the ladies and Volleyball for the men. All geared up to play for my team, Team Blue Monks ( Yaah, I knowwWWWW, its silly! ), I came to know that there was going to be some shuffling because of some missing team members. One of my team had to go to the other.

Numbers were assigned to every person. Whoever's number was called out had to play for the other team. I was assigned five. I went away to practice not expecting a five to be called out when there were Eight numbers to be chosen from. I mean what are the odds!

"FIVE", I heard a voice shout. NO !! This can't be. They call Not three ... Not seven .... FIVE !

With a funny feeling, I went to play for the other team. It was a sudden shift from what I was mentally prepared for. My solace? I was going to be playing with one of the best sportswomen I have come across, my room pal, Al Arab Ballafi.

Game 1 begins. Instead of going into the details, Ill make it easy. We were Royally screwed.

And then it happened.

God sent us an angel. An angel who was dressed in pink, truly representative of something called as 'Victorious Secret'. Yes, it was Vinnensota, our very own Mir Ranjan Negi.

Innundating us with his wisdom-ous wisdom, he pumped us up to play as a team, to shuffle players and to attack the other team on its Achilles' Heel. No later, tables turned. From being down to a very shameful score, we went ahead and took a lead in the score. There was a definite shift in the momentum and the team was visibly gelling together. There were hi-fi's all around and an urgency to defeat the other team.

And me? Well, Not for a split second did the thought come into my mind that I was actually playing against my own team. All that mattered during those few minutes was that I give it my best and get the team I was playing for, home.

We lost eventually, but not before putting up a big fight. The team (under the able guidance of our coach, Of Course) stuck together and fought well. As for me, I did not know exactly what to feel. I wanted to be happy for my actual team, but it was not that easy!

It was a Team Win, but a Personal Loss.

I got a good taste of team dynamics that day. Like I said, I have never played official team games. Except for the time when my two bodyguards ably defended me during PaintBall. That actually makes for another interesting story.

Anyhow, my team stands at position 2. The "Monks" are meditating ( Bah! ). Looking forward to more team games.

Till then, Adios !

winds of change

Four years of "I-don't-have-a-care-in-the-world". Four years of "Arre-yaar-koi-tension-nahi-hai". Four years of "complete-masti-and-no-responsibilities".
So much has changed.

... 3 Rs. ki banta has given way to expensive cocktails.
... The "kadai paneer, do naan" of Canteen have been taken over by exotic mexican and thai cuisines.... Metro and Chawla dhabba have been dethroned by jazzy pubs and lounges.... Haggling with rickshaw and auto waalas has become unnecessary since that new shiny car was bought.... Keeping in touch with friends through "missed" calls and 1 ps texts have long been dismissed by Gtalk and other virtual agents.... Deadlines for finishing copied and xeroxed assignments no longer seem Herculean tasks in front of meeting project completion dates.

I look out of my office window and see two laborers relaxing and chatting under a tree in a lush green lawn. They probably just got done with their work for the day. I see a long driveway, flanked by fountains, leading up to a massive building. The building isn't a red-brick structure though. The doors open and strong winds blow through my hair.

Some memories stir.

The winds bring the same soothing effect they once did. The greenery, the driveway, the trees feel the same, the way they did years back. There is an image in my head. A huge green lawn with trees and shrubs planted randomly. A lazy afternoon with a balmy sun. Sunlight playing with the leaves, leaving beautiful patterns on the grass. Plates with some unfinished food lie strewn. A couple of 20 year olds sitting under a tree, completing practical files. A few others, sleeping. Still others talking aimlessly.

Its a nice image.