Looking Back...

Last few days on campus, last few days of formal education, or definitely forced education (anything I do after this will be purely for fun and experience, i.e. nothing related to economics, finance, business or management) and last few days of hostel life! I remember it wasn’t long back when I started counting the firsts, and now, suddenly, I am going the other way round. A sure sign of ageing!!

So I walked into the SIC campus on 1st June, 2007 (one of my earliest posts on this blog), with promises of a life changing experience, a holistic education, a high-flying career and the much touted “exposure”. I will not get into a cost-benefit analysis of if it was all worth it, if it was worth giving up a job, if it was worth all those 100 credits of academics, late night assignments, the paranoia of placements and all that jazz: the point is that it is an irreversible event in my life and it has changed my life in many ways… so here’s one long ride down the memory lane:

I remember walking into Room No 213 with my mom only to discover that my assigned room mates have already staked their claims to the two beds below the fan and I have been relegated to the remaining cot at the far end, and for the last two years I have been subjected to bruises and pain every time some enthusiastic soul enters unannounced while I am sorting through my huge pile of outfits stuffed into the cupboard right next to the door. And I remember, being convinced that I would not like my room mates and I have been politely informed that they had felt the same way about me. So, it’s kind of a miracle that we have stuck it out through two years and become a part of each others’ lives…

I remember the Foundation exams and people struggling with Accounts assignment while I slept peacefully after I had bullied my dad into doing it for me as a parting gift…

I remember the OBL, my gaudy fluorescent orange track pants (what was I thinking) and finally meeting Shrijit after we had abused each other online almost as complete strangers. Well, we are still abusing… some things never change…

I remember my first lecture (ERP), as I struggled through an alien concept called
"technology" for two hours and even tried taking down notes. Well, that was the first and the last IT class where I paid attention…

I remember my initial classes, settling down to my seat (roll no 2007B42), judging my learning group members (they were so good that they made me lazy), the introduction sessions (where I would wait for Somvit Majhi’s colourful intro) and my valiant attempts at getting the faculty to pronounce my name correctly (Sir, it’s not Simanti, but Shimonti, though it’s spelt as Simanti…)

I remember the 12 hour daily schedules, the 18 subjects in first sem and me struggling through most of them without enjoying any of them except Accounts and WAC…

I remember being in awe of Prantosh and Priya Kher and Shivram Apte but wondering why I struggled so much in their classes…

I remember the late night assignments, the mad attempt to co-ordinate with the boys in the D Hostel with no internet connection, followed by early morning non acads followed by trying to sleep in class and envying Shalmoli for her seat in the corner as she slept peacefully like a baby through most lectures…

I remember Phatak as he successfully transformed my love for OR (which I cracked during graduation) to sheer loathing, finally reducing me to tears…

I remember my trysts with the attendance co-ordinators, being caught repeatedly on the wrong foot and thereby having the dubious distinction of being the most generous contributor to the SCMHRD Fine Fund…

I remember trying to guesstimate the first FCQ paper, the complete shock of the batch when we were handed the RM paper, and then the transition from freaking out before an FCQ to not studying at all…

I remember the shame and horror at my first failure (POM in the Foundation exams) and then making a habit of it (French, Excel, Powerpoint, International Finance). Backlogs have been a constant companion through my two years…

I remember my Freshers party and the whole brouhaha surrounding it, me going stag (because I was too shy to ask anybody out) and then having the time of my life…

I remember when the whole batch fell asleep in the audi during a guest lecture, being grounded on campus and yet me disappearing to Mumbai during that time…

I remember my dream summers and the dream turning into confusion when I got a PPO and from confusion to gratitude for having a job in such a market. So I effectively complete B school without sitting for a single GD or without going through the most rigorous struggle called “placements process”…

I remember Neev, the random calls, the packed audi during the final round of Augustus, the last minute ppt…

I remember the excitement in college for every little festival: Lohri, Holi, Onam, Pongal, Diwali, Christmas, New years, or even the Salsa workshop…

I remember my birthday, the midnight cake cutting, the mess (water, toothpaste, garbage, eggs and cake: I will never forgive you, Samleen) and taking a bath at 1 on a cold winter morning and the ugly cute pic…

I remember hating the loud parties with the same music, the same people and the same dance moves but looking forward to them and dressing up for them all the same…

I remember the fruit chart, the corn, the dabeli and vada pav, the cutting chai at Shivaji, the Indianized pizza at Savaloy, the paranthas from IIIT, soup and sandwich and coffee at Talk About, the bhel at Tamanna café, the drunken revelry at Mezza9, the desserts and pasta at Lemon Tree, the dosa at Idlicious, the pastries at Dorabjee, the lassi at Mann Dairy, the cold coffee at Atur Centre, the breakfast at Goodluck café followed by an early morning movie at E square, and many of our experiments with different kinds of food, some of them not so pleasant…

I remember our random city trips, waiting for the bus, squeezing into the bus, singing in the bus, the claustrophobia at times, my escapes to Mumbai, my solo shopping sprees, and my exchanges with autowalas…

I remember the rains, the quiet corners, the dark roads, my solitary walks, the music and the thoughts…

I remember my friends putting up with me during my worst mood swings, and my adopted family standing by me no matter what I do…

And I remember the Corpcomm team, for everything it has given to me and for everything it has not…

The turquoise saree...

The turquoise colored saree felt just right… why? I don’t know, it just did! I have tried different colours before and I used to think red complements my complexion and my personality: at least that’s what all the fashion magazines say- on paper it looks so perfect. It’s like made for me, and I can’t ask for more, but somehow, when I tried it on, there was something not quite right. I don’t know what was wrong with it, but the mirror said it all. And then, I spilt wine on it… and so that was the end of it. But a saree? Come on! It’s so different from who I am, I can’t even wear one properly (remember those days of guest lectures when I would run from pillar to post trying to find a kind soul who would help me with it?), I knew I would trip over and hurt myself sooner or later, I knew I would have to make alterations, I knew I would need new shoes to complement it, and I wasn’t sure that it would look good on me, but still that’s what I wanted and it seemed such a pity to throw it away without even trying it. It came for quite a price, but it was so worth it, and it felt so right, that I just had to have it…but I couldn't, not now, may be never!

Three Cheers to CKB!

My post on our Kerala Trip has received a lot of flak for allegedly being too formal, too factual and almost a forced thank you note and a travel guide! Hmmm… so much for all the effort I put in to enumerate our journey together. But, yeah secretly even I agree that it was too politically correct and not quite “me” which is why I don’t blog about friends, because I am always afraid of putting my foot in the mouth, or missing out someone or offending someone.

Let’s face it, we have been a family for almost two years now, perhaps the only time I have come close to having a family outside my family. And as they say, you choose your friends but your family chooses you, which was the case here. From being room mates to study group members, we were brought together by SCMHRD’s torture policy and we decided to stick it out, thick and thin. Yes, we are very different people, yes we have different tastes, yes at times I have no clue why we do some of the things we do, yes some of our conversations leave me completely exhausted, yes at times I feel claustrophobic, and yes, I do switch off some times (even during our Kerala trip) but the truth is this has been my family and by definition, families are annoying, frustrating, irritating, but they are family all the same!

They are the people that you cry to, they are the people who pick you up from the highway at midnight when you are stuck, they are the people who take you to the doctor when you are sick, they are the people who teach you two hours before the exam when you are freaking out, they are the people who support you through your backlogs (and re-backlogs), they are the people who wait for ages with you during your placements (or the lack of it), they are the people who lend you money and then make complicated excel sheets to figure out how much you owe them and forget all about it, they are the people who embarrass you at every possible restaurant (Mezza9 especially), they are the people who criticize your dressing sense, they are the people who make fun of you and keep you grounded, they are the people who are always there (and I mean, ALWAYS) for you, when your friends let you down, they are… your family!

So three cheers to our family, three cheers to the CKB group (no names, no individuals), three cheers to being together forever, three cheers to US…

2 years @ corpcomm

So we are at a B school, and the rank of a B school is directly proportional to the number of committees it has, and your “success” quotient in turn, is directly proportional to the number of committees you are part of, or so you are made to believe as you sit wide eyed in the Assembly Hall at midnight, listening to your seniors go on and on and on about their respective committees- Placements, Alumni, Corporate Relations, E cell, Admissions, Consultancy Cell, Six Sigma, Neev, Finance Club, Marketing Club and so on and so forth- all of them having more stringent selection process than the admission process of SCMHRD! As you fill up the nth form, talk to the nth senior and the nth friend in the nth B school, wondering which committee offers the best, is the most prestigious and allows you to bunk the most number of lectures, you tend to ignore the most important aspect: which committee do you really want to work for!!

So as I got caught up in the usual mad rush of signing up and attending “inane” interviews at inane hours, I finally stopped to take a deep breath and realized that if it wasn’t for peer pressure and the fringe benefits, I wouldn’t like to work for ANY of these committees. The only committee which really offered me the “job satisfaction” was the much understated Corporate Communications headed by four very understated guys who struggled to get applications from “aspiring” juniors who “aspired” for something “better” and “more rewarding”. They didn’t have a financial support from the college, they didn’t have a faculty to guide them, they didn’t have an event of their own, they didn’t even have a room to have meetings in, they did all the dirty work for other committees rather like a poor cousin for the big brothers (very much parallel to India acting as a low cost outsourcing hub for Big Brother U.S.A.) but I couldn’t care less- this was the committee I wanted to work for! So I went for the interview, relaxed and casually dressed and for a change I wasn’t made to wait outside for the “process” and for the first time I had an honest answer to the question, “why do you want to join Corpcomm?” as I simply replied, “because I am passionate about writing”. However, the final round with the Director was not quite a cakewalk as he embarrassed me to the core, and even now, when I look back, I can’t help blushing at the very thought of him reciting a cheesy poem looking straight into my eyes. But there we were, the chosen ones- four junior girls (Ratika, Mani, Samleen and me) along with the four senior guys: we were a small but happy family!

While the initial handholding was over, we found ourselves neck deep in work, some of it even more hectic than our regular academics of 18 subjects! From being editors of the college magazine Hyperbol and the alumni magazine Sandes to making 11th hour presentations before every event, from calling up random press people begging for a little space in the daily for free to hurried event coverage, from laboriously taking down notes during boring guest lectures to chasing after the guests for some interesting sound bites, from coming up with catchy taglines to designing advertorials, from sorting through over a thousand photographs to come up with the best to struggling through windows moviemaker and flash, from amateur PowerPoint slides to sleek Publisher and CorelDraw graphics, from alumni meets to Risk Management seminars, from hating our senior team for ordering us about to growing to love and respect them, from midnight meetings at the atrium to wild cake cutting sessions- it was a long and self motivated journey which made us stronger and closer!

As we said goodbye to the seniors and took over the reigns, we survived one of the mindless reshuffling of teams, the ensuing chaos of too many cooks spoiling the broth, too much of compartmentalization and too much of independent talent. A team which barely found any takers was suddenly inundated with applications and after a week of grueling interviews, written tests and Subbu onslaught we finally came up with a much bigger family of twelve people. It was a rollercoaster ride, a more complicated one but one that got noticed, that got respected but had its share of brickbats too.

At the end of two years, I can safely claim that my biggest takeaway at SCMHRD was undoubtedly the Corpcomm team, the friends that I made, and the amount of learning was certainly far greater than all of the hundred credits worth of academics. I joined the team to cultivate a hobby, and I will be leaving it with a heavy heart, a new career goal and a deeper passion!

Kerala Trip

So it finally happened: the much awaited trip to Kerala which also explains my short hiatus. The last time I visited God’s Own Country, I was an 11 year old studying in the sixth standard. So I barely remember anything, except the 44 hour train journey in sleeper class, getting stuck in a shady local hospital on our way to Tekdi and me proudly announcing to my parents how I gained 5 kgs during the trip!

However, this time it was a different story altogether: our gang of 12 people from college (we call ourselves as the ckb group, the apt full form of which is “chaddi ke bahar” implies that we always end up doing things which are slightly ambitious, logistically impossible and financially draining) decided to boldly conquer “God’s Own Country” when we have struggled to put together day trips, dinner plans or even simple chai outings- 12 different people, 12 different opinions, 1000 permutations and combinations: no, it definitely wasn’t easy. But finally we all came together to make it possible and we are all very very grateful to Thomas V George and his sweet sweet family who played the perfect host as we rampaged through their home, emptied their water tanks, dirtied their cutlery, ate some awesome food, wasted some awesome food and in general made a nuisance of ourselves…

The journey began on 27th February from Panvel by Garibrath as we squeezed ourselves in 2 seats (Mumbai local trains revisited): it was a fun ride as we discovered our prowess in all kinds of silly games (Uplaksh Tewary emerged as the undisputed winner, but I repeat, the games were SILLY), tried watching Via Darjeeling (I think I am head over heels in love with K K Menon), drove the other people in the bogie(especially a sweet old couple) nuts with our loudness and I realized why society doesn’t look upon students so kindly- let’s face it, we are a bunch of noisy losers!

We reached Kochi in a little less than 24 hours and attacked Thomas’ aunt’s house with full vengeance for a couple of days. I also discovered that my strength lay in tasting food and not so much in cooking and the only way I could contribute was by washing dishes and making coffee (which I suspect Shrijit didn’t like much). Dinner mostly consisted of Maggie, egg bhujji, some snacks and lots and lots of booze (I was proclaimed a loser in this respect). A visit to the Cherai beach ended up with me spoiling my cell phone and therefore all my contacts, so now every time I get a friendly sms/ call from an unknown number, my reply template is: “Who is this?” which has pissed off a lot of people (including parents)!

Day two began nice and early as we set out for Munnar- a picturesque hill station dotted with tea gardens, lakes and waterfalls as we made numerous unscheduled stops and our photographers (Sama and Thomas) went berserk.

The next day we went to “veega land”, a water theme park near Kochi which was even more fun than it promised to be. While the water rides were a relief, some of the land rides (and I mean space gun) were like flirting with death. I know I want to have two near death experiences, and I think I have successfully had my first!

Kerala Trip (contd)

Day four offered the best of Kerala as we cruised through the backwaters of Aleppi in a houseboat complete with two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room with deck chairs and sofas and dining table. We tried our hand at fishing and rowing and even plucked coconuts from the trees when the boat was docked for lunch. They served a delicious meal (I ate fish after almost a decade: hereby I admit shamefully that I am a pseudo bong) in the boat itself. But I did find my drink! the only reason I am a teetotaler is that I don't like the taste of alcohol (except my occasional tryst with vodka)but the country liquor (fermented coconut) that I tasted in the boat was like made for me and most importantly it was cheap! For 80 bucks we got a litre of it and it didn't take me too long to finish it. Finally the cruise came to an end around six in the evening and by then most of us had posed for like a million photographs ready to inflict them upon thousands of unsuspecting singles in the matrimonial space. So hereby I warn you: DO NOT BE FOOLED!! Our guys aren’t as hot as they look; it’s the magic of camera and the cameramen. It was a long drive from Aleppi to Punalur- Thomas’ native place and once more we invaded his serene home as twelve of us bathed and dined and embarrassed Thomas nearly driving his mom crazy. But she was undoubtedly the best cook I know, and I can still taste the fish curry and mutton biryani that she made for us. After a sumptuous dinner we spent the night at their house in the rubber plantation in the middle of nowhere- dark, secluded, amidst the jungle- it seemed formidable to people like us, used to the cold comforts of city life, but Thomas, who had spent his childhood days there, seemed perfectly at home as he knew the place like the back of his hand. Nature, music, guitar, late night chats with friends and booze is probably one of the best combinations you can have.

The last day, we woke up late, had a leisurely breakfast where Shalmoli exhibited her talent in the kitchen, coming up with 13 omlettes at top speed. My contribution was limited to breaking one egg and dropping it on the floor! Then we went for a trek around the plantation where I successfully dropped myself twisting my ankle (did I mention I wore a white skirt and Osho chappals for the trek) as Thomas explained the intricacies of extracting rubber to a mesmerized audience. After a marathon bath and an elaborate lunch at his home (where we managed to exhaust the entire water supply) we were off to the zoo in Trivandrum followed by our last destination: Kovalam Beach! Quite appropriately, the journey which began with a beach ended with another, in a land that offered everything that an enthusiastic tourist could possibly ask for: hills, beach, backwaters, wildlife, a new language, a new culture and a whole new experience! The last night was a long one, and the only night that I got “sloshed” as some people will claim (I believe I was completely in my senses, so just because they took some incriminating snaps doesn’t mean I was drunk… it’s the cameramen I tell you)

Courtesy: members of the ckb group: Vikas, Ritesh, Upendra, Sama, Hemant, Uplaksh, Shrijit, Thomas (a very special thank you), Shevaita, Shalmoli, Shivangi, Me

And Vibhor, we missed you!