Wednesday, September 26, 2007

OOO: Odd One Out

One Long Day
Minar 00:15 am

Tool: Landu! 10 O' clock in the morning. You are coming, right?

Me: Eh...I don't know. Somehow, I can imagine myself 5-10 yrs down the line as neither an engineer nor a financial analyst. Uh...lemme see...nahi yaar. Anyway, we're not gonna be shortlisted even under the rarest circumstances. It's only for the Bofis you see. Nine pointer + Coords + Lit-God + ... But still there's a point in attending the presentation as there was one in attending the workshop earlier. No matter what we do, we gotta invest somewhere around 1/3rd of our assets. No harm in learning the basic terminologies from Lehmann!

Tool: Kya reason dhoondha hai attend karne ka!

Tapti Hostel 01:00 am

Viru: Landu! So finally are we going to gym tomorrow?

Me: Yeah sure! Be ready by 06:15.

Why gym? Or better yet, why the hell gym in the morning...6 O' clock?
Well, I'd say in a movement to revive the body clock, body fluid circulation, body muscle flexibility, body this and body that. Also to demonstrate and exemplify the will and its power. Moreover, to behold rare and prized birds chirping outside my door, to bathe in soft orange light and to breathe through every pore of body and mind pure and fresh oxygen. Yeah baby, all of the above. Ain't enough? Take this - to prevent wastage of yet another month for which I got the gym card issued which, in turn, was another example of taking the right path in front of my corrupt friends who dared to talk about utilizing the institute's facilities for free in front of me. I instantly slapped on them an eloquent speech explaining why honesty is still the best policy.

06:00 am Bang! "Landu, chal!"
Shout from inside-"Uth gaya! Tu chal main aaya!"

06:15 am "Landu m**** b***** chal!"

06:30 am Gymming

07:10 am My 2nd breakfast of the semester! Elated and blushing :))

07:30 am Crash!

10:00 am Kukdoo-koo (cellphone reminder - Lehmann Presentation). Postponed. Crash. P. C. PCPC. Quit!

11:00 am ...Taal se taal milaa...Taal se taal milaa...Taal se..."Helloooo!" "Landu, you've been selected! Come to ICSR." Cut. Silence. Blank. ...Taal se taal milaa...Taa "Hello!" "Landu, you are in! GD + Interview at 11:30 in ICSR." Cut. Holy Crap. Bhaagoooooooo.

Begging across the wing "Allah ke naam pe koi formal kapde de do baba! Dean tumhaara bhalaa karega. Tumko naukri dega, tarakki dega...chhokri dega! Allah ke naam pe..."
Finally got a shirt. Had a pair of black trousers gifted in a marriage ceremony back at home. Shoes. Shoes! Shoes? Freshies! Got a pair of NCC/workshop shoes, black - could have used to be.

11:35 am Cycling to ICSR on my half-deflated bicycle, combing hair with one hand.

11:38 am Washing shoes with a splash from water can in ICSR, cleaning with handkerchief. "Arun! Where is it da?" "Upstairs."

11:40 am "Hi Lamina!" "Saale kam se kam interview mein to...achchha wahan jaldi se jaakar bata ki tu aa gaya." "Good morning, sir! I'm Apoorva" "Hi Apoorva! You are next for room no 3. Have a seat."
Fart session. Junta yelling out stories about how difficult it was to come in formals. Two guys sent back to change their clothes. They return with an appearance informal disguised as formal.

12:01 am Arjun comes out of room no 3. The Babu comes out too. I proceed to talk to him but to no avail. He had some important (natural) emergency to attend.

12:06 pm The Babu returns. I enter and notice the 'enter-view'. The walls, the table, the sky, the curtains and both the shirts are off-white. Shake hands. "So you are Karthik..." "Sorry sir, I'm Apoorva Chandra." "Oh...ok. Have a seat Apoorva."
"So you are the odd one out?" And thus it began...
..."So that's all I had to ask. Do you have any question?" After realizing so many times that I must have gone through my resume once, I felt this was one question independent of it. Being an HR personnel, he was a bit bewildered and somehow tried to answer. Shake hands.

PR: They will call you around 1 O' clock if you're selected for the next round. All the best.

01:00 pm No call yet. Wondering what the odd one out statement meant...

01:15 pm No call yet. Still wondering.

01:20 pm Got the result. Got the answer.

The result was certainly NO. The answer was - Macha, if you are a guy with a CGPA which is having not a single friend in a radius of 0.7 amongst the shortlisted guys, you gotta be the odd one. The toughest question is - how the heck were YOU shortlisted?

Gist: So you are the odd one. OUT!

Moral: Life's a gamble. You never know when you're gonna hit a jackpot. Always be prepared.

Suggestion: Buy a proper formal placement suit. Be prepared with your resume and answers to anticipated questions.

Good News: They took two of the elec nine-pointers. Your ranking in the queue improves.

Monday, September 03, 2007

S for Saarang: New(s) Letter

Q. Give a short account (200 words), of the most depressing incident that has ever happened to you. And how that's left you scarred for life.

It was spring! The weather Gods went romantic and the white angel clouds embraced the sun. The Saarang aroma was aphrodisiac enough to let me wander from food-stalls to IC & SR and back. The Airtel girls were showing it off really well. But it was just that they had too many admirers and I was turned-off. Just then, a hand rose amongst the crowd (man)handled by the Informals Coords.

It was a marble-hand raised gracefully at an angle most suited to attract attention. I am still trying to measure it in my dreams but to no avail. As she was called upon the stage, I could clearly see her upper half of the body rising from her low-waist and her right hand making an unsuccessful attempt to veil the exposed (waist) by pulling her tee down . The message was straightforward "I am the girl your mom warned you about". I instantly admired the tee-makers.

The not-so-formal coords asked her to hold the mic without using her hands and share a fantasy with the audience. The crowd was enthralled. I wished her luck. She held it between her neck and left shoulder. "Hi Saara.." and the mic fell. She was disappointed. They asked her to leave. I was shocked.

Either the coords wanted to get her away from there and catch her in private with an evil intention of fondling her in the name of consolation or the cores selecting such coords have become too easy a prey to the pseudy appearances they display, carrying a heavy-looking bag even to the bog. My 798.6th crush was brutally crushed as she walked out of the campus in despair and all I was looking at were the collars of the coords. The very purpose of Saarang, need I mention, was openly refuted and the meanness of some arrogant species, the so called Coords cum Gods kindled a fire of vengeance in me for years to come. Let them know that here I am, applying for the newsletter coordship.

ChicKEN Or Egg?

Q. "Which came first - the chicken or the egg?" Explain with valid argument. Mathematical explanations are strongly discouraged.

Any lit-enthu guy will jump up and say,"Macha, chicken came first no; c comes before e, remember?" But he is simply overlooking the fact that a chicken can never have the guts to come first. A chicken will always remain a chicken no matter how much you egg it on. On the contrary, an egg has the palpable advantage of being oval and therefore it can roll and roll to attain an unbeatable speed. The egg will beat the chicken any day, any time, any track!