POLITICOS EXTRORDINAIRE

I can see the downpour from my window.. Thick drops of precipitation stream down the walls of my spartan lodgings, leaving it's walls threadbare.. A veritable blanket of lush green foliage has draped the entire campus, and you may even be forgiven for thinking that it looks serene.. It's actually the result of wild, uncontrolled growth of weeds(pun intended) that has been anything but manicured.. Outside the college, the road-interspersed potholes are making a 30 minute ride to mangalore anything but desirable..Back breaking, to be more precise.. Two dorm mates have undergone operations on sensitive areas.. Days together are spent without power and electricity or both.. In short, the semester could have gotten off to a better start!


The start of the semester has also ushered in a change in the DASA(the NRI students) mindset that in my firm opinion we wuold do well to dispense of; the scourge of politics.. With alliances being formed and "stabbed" almost on a daily basis, all "parties"(congregations of fux happening to belong to the same region) are fervidly scouring opportunities to pick up prime positions.. Frankly, I couldnt give less of a damn who becomes Gen-Sec or President or *pick any sought after position*.. Usually, that would also constitute the views of the entire DASA populace, but desperate attempts to embed ourselves into the system means that that perspective has undergone a paradigm shift and those who thought they were above such petty haggling have, having received that first whiff of power, thrown themselves headlong into the frantic negotiations that precede ballots of such 'undisputable importance'.. All this is no doubt entertaining to watch from afar in no small measure due to the dramatic twists and turns the saga invariably throws up.. All I can say that if someone worthy were to get a post in free and fair elections, there's nothing like it.. Too much to ask for? As long as any two people come from the same place, yes... Till then and Sept. 2nd, I guess I'll just have to sit back and enjoy the show..

THE MAN WITHOUT THE GOLD
Being beaten by the last men standing can be more harrowing and agonizing than being pipped at the start, and I imbibed that the arduous way a few days ago..

Goldman Sachs, the No.1 investment bank in the world, a company first on the list of prospective companies of many an MBA, a company that attracts doe-eyed and frenetic crowds to every school they visit gave us that very honour on the 12th of August. It attracted a wide cross section of eager and desperate unplaced final years and the hundred odd third years who managed to keep themselves from the allure that a five day sojourn to Bangalore offers.. The intended purpose of the jaunt was to filter the hundreds of applicants down to a manageably miniscule number which they would then absorb into the hallowed precincts of their organization.. The task was as laborious for them as it was nerve racking for us, what with a day and a half of frenzied activity awaiting the powers that be, but the task at hand promised to be phenomenally intriguing as well..

It was the first time the third years were subjected to such a rigmarole and as such wasn't something on which was precariously perched the course their life would take.. The stakes: A two month Internship at Goldman Sachs Bangalore fetching 250$, followed by probable absorption into their Bangalore operations via New York..

I, like seven score of my batchmates, put in our resumes, hopeful of plush placement in our third year itself, which would effectively render our remaining two years null and void.. The pre placement talk attracted a madding crowd, the stars glistening in every eye.. The talk itself proved to comprise of nothing more than a biased appraisal of the company's gleaming track record, and only the most discerning listener managed to keep his cool.. This was followed by an aptitude test to determine the top twenty students from each year, who would then have to brave the grind of two more rounds.. The test itself was pretty tough, what with 20 questions to solve in 20 minutes.. It was going to be quite an undulating task.. I solved whatever I could (4 or 5), then went ahead and liberally guessed the rest(no negative marking, and detailed probabilistic research has shown that selecting all C's means that atleast 40% is bound to be correct).. Most unexpectedly, I made the cut, and aspirations came to take shape..

Next hurdle was the Group discussion on "India's population: Bane or a boon" which was veritably the most general theme they could pick.. Eveyone had a view but few were able to put it through convincingly, and by virtue of being one of them, I was through to the final round: The interviews.. The dreams were more than taking shape, they were almost a reality.. I was begining to reminisce about the heart of Wall Street and how it would be to actually work there.. Sure that the interviews would be a breeze, I set about revising programming languages...
Day Two, and 4 pm brought with it the home stretch.. I was almost there, and it would only be a matter of time.. After the anguish that a 2 hour delay invariably brings with it, the interviews were flagged off.. I was first to be called, and after a breezy, languid interview that threw up no major hiccups, my self assurance towered.. There apparently was a second round of interviews, and I did get through to it.. The HR dame called me in, and I surprisingly didn't glare at her gargantuan hooters even once during the tete-a-tete which was pretty gentle..

Then there was a third interview, which is referred to as the stress interview by all those who went through its rigours..Each statement elicited scorching responses and scalding questions from the other side of the court and every aspirant that survived the terrors that run loose within those ramparts either broke down or giggled hysterically...I went in expecting the worst but inexplicably, barring one or two really uncomfortable moments(A couple of glaring typos that somehow escaped notice in the other interviews and being pesterd incessantly about my GPA) I thought it was overstated..Meanwhile, news percolated that they wanted atleast one girl, even if that meant compromising on the quality of the interns..

After an hour or so of discussions and deliberations, the results were announced..........agony.... Left out... Rejection.. My memory was clouded, only to be revived later with the realization that this was only the first battle in a long and tumultuous war... There was another year, another opportunity.. A hope that they will not again sieve out only the top 3 gpas among those shortlisted for the final round.. A chance to prove them wrong...A chance at getting in..

7 THOUGHTS FROM THE TOP OF MY HEAD...

1. Pining for college life and hoping that the verve I imbibe at the top of every semester doesnt fizzle out befor 3 weeks..

2. I'm fucking pissed right now.. The worst part of it is that I don't know the reason...

Maybe it's because my own family can't appreciate me..

Maybe it's because of my grandmother's extremely parochial attitude..

Maybe it's a Mc-Enroesque the-world-is-against-me angry-young-man-wannabe thing..

Maybe I'm giving vent to the frustration that accompanies being stuck indoors the whole day..

Maybe it's just me

which brings me back to point 1.....

3. Chennai is boring..Not for the virile, this city.. Worried about my drooping dick..What with Surathkal next on the itinerary, it may as well sag and breathe it's last...which brings me to point 1...

4. I hate the declivity sport is going through.. It's rapidly on the wane... As long as dope is restricted to the privacy of the hostel room and appreciating good music(most will read floyd), it's ok..But when you take it into the public arena right in the middle of sports from something as fast paced as athletics to something as tranquil as cycling, it kills tyhe sport.. If doping is not enough, sport suffers from predictability..

Whether it's federer in tennis, Australia in cricket, Schumy(till last yr) in F1 or the likes, one sidedness kills sport. The FIFA WC came as a breather.

5. I hate the hypocrites that populate our society.. When women's lib activists lobby aggressively for reservation in parliament but want to be treated on the same footing as men.. If you want respect, earn it by standing on the same platform.

6.Mukesh Ambani's premonition that retail will spur growth in the future is laudable.. Here is a man with foresight who can put his money where his mouth is.. He more than backed up his vision with his considerable financial muscle.. India has for long felt the need for a pan-India retail behemoth, and with a bellweather like reliance entering the arena, that void is sure to be filled.. Mukesh Ambani's association with IIMB has definitely made the ramparts of the Bannarghetta road citadel more desirable to me..

7. I'm concerned about my inability to show my true feelings to people other than the ones I love.. I hate to be perceived as passive when in fact I have very strong opinions which deserve to be heard... People I have voiced these opinions to will, I hope, vouch for that..

Reminds me of childhood memories...is there anything more arbit than this??

The rain began to come down in trickles as I trudged along the weary path.. The drizzle suddenly metamorphasized into a downpour but a strong feeling of romanticism told me not to budge..

Now completely drenched in the mind-numbingness of nostalgia, I allowed myself to rove into a realm that seldom arises from a faraway recess in the labyrinth of my mind..

I remember whole lakes rendered visibly pink by the droves of flamingoes that inhabited it.. Shoals of fish in every conceivable colour and shade serenading through the water as seen from a glass bottomed boat.. Roads that slither from side to side and snake up and down like a roller coaster..

Observing prides of lions from mere feet away.. Wildebeest harrying across as our Isuzu trooper parades on, stamping its authority on the semblance of a road..

Abruptly, I halt my meanderings and take in the intoxicating fragrance of the rain quenching the near insatiable thirst of the soil.. Ah, home... It's a place called Kenya, an inseperable part of my being..a splendidly unspoilt hinterland which the putrid stench of civilization has not been able to pervade into..

Maybe I'm reading too much of "Fear and loathing in Las Vegas"(about the halucinations caused by every drug known to man) or maybe the copious amounts of filter kaapi I'm guzzling is acting up..