Pre interview moments

I followed Gaurav towards his room, making sure I had a good look at the hostel as I passed by those strange looking closed doors which I had expected to emanate some kind of radiance . To my dismay there was no such emanation and it looked like the awe for IIT was slowly wearing off. I had met lots and lots of IITians after I passed out of my college and the more IITians I met the more the awe rubbed off. I had realised by now that IITians are very human, just like us and the reason why they are such a hit every where is because of their self-confidence and positive attitude. Being in top 3000 out of 3,00,000 IIT aspirants would fill one up with all these rare qualities. Intelligence wise i had realised that apart from top 10% iitians rest are pretty good and just most of other bright people. But the above mentioned qualities is what made them invincible where ever they went. And i had come across many exceptions to this rule. Nevertheless sans the exceptions they are genuine best breeds.
The alleys of the hostel were dark and silent quite unlike my UG hostel which was always teeming with guys discussing whole gamut of issues from the that day's menu at girls hostel to the domestic problems in the principal's house to why WTO is sure to bring about demise of India to why Pentium is good for multimedia as compared to 486 processors. This surely smelt like a pure PG(post graduation) hostel where the occupants have long been tortured by the academics and have come to believe that academics are insurmountable and its better to give them enough importance by going for a PG. I entered gaurav's room after passing by a maze of rooms and corridors. His room was a typical students room. Lots of thick books (surprisingly all seemed frequently used as there was no dust on anyone of them) an assembled computer with speakers, a cot, clothes hanging on the wall and a mirror which believed in divide and conquer theory as it would show you at max only one quarter of ur face so that you provide enough attention in grooming that quarter.
It did not take me long to realise that gaurav kumar had transformed into an internet addict and a computer geek as he kept on searching web of all kinds of information while we chatted away. His nonchalance about what others in the world were doing had always amazed me and now with added dose of typical IIT confidence and +ve attitude it made a deadly combination. As we discussed our lives i noticed a poster on one of his walls. It said - "Thirty years from now, it won’t matter what shoes you wore, how your hair looked, or what jeans you bought. What will matter is what you learned and how you used it". This immediately catapulted me into deep thought as I put my life in context. My resolve to do a post grad had taken a beating after two years of consecutive efforts at belling the CAT. The last time I had missed it by a whisker. This time by a mile. But nevertheless i decided that i got to make it to IITB by hook or by crook, whether to join or not will be decided later. Gaurav noticed me and he understood what was running in my mind. He again in his typical nonchalant way assured me that i would make it. He had given up a plum job after graduation and had settled for a rigorous 1 year preparation at Delhi, where he stayed away from his family in a single room, studying day in and day out hoping to make it to IIT, while his batch mates kept on opting for one of the abundant IT jobs and got used to easy going life. He kept his concentration steadfast on his aim and he made it finally. Quite maverick like i would say.
Well he had justified every bit of his decision and was reaping benefits now. After some more chit chat which lasted till about 3 a.m. we slept. I got up @ 7 a.m. and as usual indulged in some day dreaming as I moved about in the corridors getting a good view of the hostel and the surroundings. Had a sojourn at the toilet which looked to be too clean for college guys or may be its just that PG guys are all to expended to ruffle any feathers anywhere. Noticed a washing machine in the bathroom and immediately my age old wish came back to life. During my UG days we had quite a celebration for Saraswati Puja and Holi. These were the days when there was a mass production of bhaang at the hostel mess. It had always occurred to me ,everytime I saw the bhaang being prepared, that one of the innovative uses of the washing machine could be preparation of bhaang/lassi in large quantities. It would serve as the best stirrer available and would take hardly 5 minutes to prepare. I thought that if I happen to be here again I would definitely try to experiment with bhaang production idea. After a few more day dreams I realised its already 8.00 a.m. and I need to get ready fast to reach the rendezvous point for all the aspirants to be interviewed that day. Again an image conjured up in my mind. This time that of a swayamvar. I immediately related my state to that of Ramji and Co. when they were out to prove to Sitaji that they are the best guys in business. Today I had to prove to the panel that I am the best candidate from them. And just like in good all swayamvar days ,I will be asked to show what I am good at and why I should be selected.
I hurried back to Gaurav's room. He was still asleep. I took out my bathing apparatus* and headed towards bathroom all the time feeling like a new software which has been delivered by some Indian IT company and which will undergo rigorous testing to see if it matches the quality and functional requirements expected by the clients. I was just hoping that the testing is done with due care .Lots of horrifying interviews narrated on Pagalguy came to my mind and i even considered sticking up a note on my file saying 'Fragile candidate - handle with care'.
I was all dressed up now in the new shirt and shoes that I had purchased the day before. I prayed that the IITB panelists had a strong belief in "All that glitters is gold". I was late by 15 min when I reached the auditorium. "Good start!" i said to myself. Luckily nothing much had happened till then and the presentation by the IITB students was about to start. I looked around at all the softwares lying around in the room, hoping to meet the requirements of IITB. All of them were impeccably dressed and looking smart. I cursed all those people who had contributed to the huge population of India which had made getting into a B-School so tough. Top in my cursing list was Mr. Dhritarashtra who centuries back was able to produce 100 sons and he pulled out the feat even after being blind. Just imagine if he had normal eyesight I m sure he would have done better and the combinatorial explosion of the future generations of his sons would have been responsible for at least some 10 million kauravas in present india.
The present students started with the presentation and with it self-glorification. I made a few mental notes so that I could blurt out some flattering reasons to join IITB for MBA. In between I managed to get a view of a pretty dame sitting in the last row at the other corner. I hoped she makes it to IITB with me and lend some buoyancy to the NSP (Nayan sukh prapti) index of our class. Later after the presentation was over, to my dismay I came to realise that she was married thanks to her sindoor. Thanks to all those guys who gave this helluva indicator of marital status. The giveaway almost always helps to streamline your potential choices and efforts. I realised that having her in the class would be like the BMW cars in the showroom close to my house, the cars can be seen but not within my reach and looking at it continuously would do me no good. as I conveniently shifted my loyalty to the next best looking girl in the room, though unfortunately the opportunity cost for the change in patronage was very high for my liking.
Anyways we were asked for some documents etc. for verification. I decided to avoid talking to guys around as all the conversations around was about the past IITB interviews and about how they are fond of grilling u technically. 2 yrs of work @ infosys had already killed my technical appetite and had made sure that I was at best mediocre at technical stuff. Though I was pretty confident about the work I was doing I hoped they didnot dig the mental archives of course study at college. I had forgotten most of them. Mean while I tried to relax by catching a view of the married dame and started analysing her with the keen eye of Sherlock Holmes. Red and white bangles showed she was newly married. Shit I was late by a month or two!!. The white bengali bangles gave away her bengali origin. She was in typical business formals and was not flashing her latest mobile or anything which can be remotely classified as geeky gadget, so I thought she must be in some industry other than IT. She would be an engineer or a science post graduate as these were the eligibility requirements for taking the JMET entrance for admissions into IITB...before I could find some more clues my registration no. was announced and I was supposed to join the queue of 10 people which would be driven out for GD. This time I felt like a member of a herd in a cattle fair, to be presented before prospective buyers who would check if we are a good bet for them. The difference is if we get selected it is we who pay for the selection not them. That’s the irony :(.

*This is one of the things i picked up at good ol' hostel days when one sage by the name of Deepak Tathod had referred the razor as shaving appratus during one of the ragging sessions. What followed is history.