The wait for the results was a killing one to say the least. The first interview was held on 1st Feb and here we were on 1st May hopeful of seeing the results after 20 days(Original schedule said 11th April) of uncertainty and delays courtesy our HRD Minister Arjun Singh.
Anyways, I just happened to check IIMB's site for one last time before sleeping at around 12:30 am and I was in for a big surprise. Yes, the results were out. I had decided not to see the results myself and thus ran to the other room to call my brother to ask him to check. He asked my registration number searched for it in the pdf and said "ya, its there". But dude in which list? There is a waiting list as well was my response. He verified that its in List 1, the list for admission offers and he said its done, you are in and that we should wake up everyone. I was too surprised and shocked to say anything. We went to our parents and slowly said papa, iska IIMB mein ho gaya. And my father hugged me straightaway and I wanted to remain clutched for it was in pursuit of this heavenly feeling that I was slogging for an year. There is no better feeling than seeing your parents being proud of you. Next day my father, mother,sister and brother all were busy telling their friends about the feat, I could see the happiness in their eyes, the happiness which made an year's effort worth.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Monday, December 17, 2007
The Perfect Kill
-Denis R. Soreng
It was late in the evening when I entered Howrah Station .It was teeming with office workers returning home after a typically tiring day at work. I didn't look forward to the prospect of returning home to my husband. The love between us had died years ago. Our marriage had been transformed into a dead corpse buried deep beneath a pile of painful memories. The bits and pieces of pleasure I derived from my daily existence were my only source of sustenance. My husband had accused me of being mentally deranged. But only I know better. He should have thought of a better reason than that to get rid of me.
I hauled my self into a train standing nearby. Finding a seat lying vacant I gleefully slid into it. After having exhausted myself at work securing a place to ease my legs was a welcome relief. The scene inside the train was disquieting. The train being the last one on that particular route, it wasn't long before the compartment was bursting to the full with people. They jostled and fought with each other in a desperate attempt to keep from falling off.
June is the hottest month in Kolkata; it's when the when the summers are at the peak of their torment. The sweltering heat conspired with the intolerable humidity to beat the lives out of the commuters. The stench from the garbage rotting on the rail tracks combined with the nauseating smell of human sweat to pervade the whole atmosphere. I felt like vomiting. I subconsciously swallowed the spittle that formed in my throat. In despair, I stared up at the ceiling for comfort. A solitary fan hung up there in a state of eternal rest, hideously shrouded in spider webs. I closed my eyes in a bid to rest my mind. Slowly I allowed myself to fall into a labored slumber.
When I awoke the train had traveled far into the countryside. The seat next to mine was occupied by a pretty nymphet. She had a concerned look on her face. The object of her anxiety was seated right opposite to us. He was the most loathsome, horrid specimen of mankind I had ever seen. He evidently appeared to be a village goon of some reputation. His bloodshot eyes were planted firmly on the girl. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat under his leering looks. The redness of his eyes was indicative of the fact that he had soaked himself in liquor far exceeding socially acceptable limits.
The girl's nervousness was infectious. I looked around the compartment. It was completely vacant except for the three of us. I began to grow uneasy. The girl pressed my hand and held up a piece of newspaper for my inspection. She pointed towards a front-page news report. It was on a sensational serial killer who had been haunting Kolkatans for the past couple of weeks. Six young girls had been murdered in different parts of the city. They were discovered with their throats brutally slit open. The killings had been executed with such meticulous efficiency that the murder scenes were totally devoid of any clues. The police were baffled. The report went on to draw parallels with the legendary 'Stoneman' who had terrorized Calcutta in early the 90's and whose identity was yet to be ascertained. The report was undeniably scary and chilling to the bone.
The girl had visibly paled. She motioned with her eyes indicating to me that she considered the man sitting opposite to be a prime suspect. The girl was badly scared and I must admit I was pretty worried myself. Suddenly the train slowed as it approached an oncoming station. I was contemplating the feasibility of getting off the train, well before my intended destination, when the man himself stood up. To my utter surprise and immense joy he hopped off the train as it came to a screeching halt. The girl looked at me and both of us let out a huge sigh of relief. The tension having been released, she began to giggle. I caught up with her silly laughter and soon both of us were laughing away in abandon.
With a rude jerk the train started moving. Soon it was speeding across vast open countryside at a furious pace. Her jangled nerves having been calmed, the girl had begun to doze in her seat. As I looked at her I wondered just how naïve and unsuspecting young girls can be. I slipped my hand inside my handbag and firmly gripped the kitchen knife I always carried. I felt a strange numbness in my fingers but it had to be done. Besides she had an exceedingly beautiful neck. Such a pity!
It was late in the evening when I entered Howrah Station .It was teeming with office workers returning home after a typically tiring day at work. I didn't look forward to the prospect of returning home to my husband. The love between us had died years ago. Our marriage had been transformed into a dead corpse buried deep beneath a pile of painful memories. The bits and pieces of pleasure I derived from my daily existence were my only source of sustenance. My husband had accused me of being mentally deranged. But only I know better. He should have thought of a better reason than that to get rid of me.
I hauled my self into a train standing nearby. Finding a seat lying vacant I gleefully slid into it. After having exhausted myself at work securing a place to ease my legs was a welcome relief. The scene inside the train was disquieting. The train being the last one on that particular route, it wasn't long before the compartment was bursting to the full with people. They jostled and fought with each other in a desperate attempt to keep from falling off.
June is the hottest month in Kolkata; it's when the when the summers are at the peak of their torment. The sweltering heat conspired with the intolerable humidity to beat the lives out of the commuters. The stench from the garbage rotting on the rail tracks combined with the nauseating smell of human sweat to pervade the whole atmosphere. I felt like vomiting. I subconsciously swallowed the spittle that formed in my throat. In despair, I stared up at the ceiling for comfort. A solitary fan hung up there in a state of eternal rest, hideously shrouded in spider webs. I closed my eyes in a bid to rest my mind. Slowly I allowed myself to fall into a labored slumber.
When I awoke the train had traveled far into the countryside. The seat next to mine was occupied by a pretty nymphet. She had a concerned look on her face. The object of her anxiety was seated right opposite to us. He was the most loathsome, horrid specimen of mankind I had ever seen. He evidently appeared to be a village goon of some reputation. His bloodshot eyes were planted firmly on the girl. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat under his leering looks. The redness of his eyes was indicative of the fact that he had soaked himself in liquor far exceeding socially acceptable limits.
The girl's nervousness was infectious. I looked around the compartment. It was completely vacant except for the three of us. I began to grow uneasy. The girl pressed my hand and held up a piece of newspaper for my inspection. She pointed towards a front-page news report. It was on a sensational serial killer who had been haunting Kolkatans for the past couple of weeks. Six young girls had been murdered in different parts of the city. They were discovered with their throats brutally slit open. The killings had been executed with such meticulous efficiency that the murder scenes were totally devoid of any clues. The police were baffled. The report went on to draw parallels with the legendary 'Stoneman' who had terrorized Calcutta in early the 90's and whose identity was yet to be ascertained. The report was undeniably scary and chilling to the bone.
The girl had visibly paled. She motioned with her eyes indicating to me that she considered the man sitting opposite to be a prime suspect. The girl was badly scared and I must admit I was pretty worried myself. Suddenly the train slowed as it approached an oncoming station. I was contemplating the feasibility of getting off the train, well before my intended destination, when the man himself stood up. To my utter surprise and immense joy he hopped off the train as it came to a screeching halt. The girl looked at me and both of us let out a huge sigh of relief. The tension having been released, she began to giggle. I caught up with her silly laughter and soon both of us were laughing away in abandon.
With a rude jerk the train started moving. Soon it was speeding across vast open countryside at a furious pace. Her jangled nerves having been calmed, the girl had begun to doze in her seat. As I looked at her I wondered just how naïve and unsuspecting young girls can be. I slipped my hand inside my handbag and firmly gripped the kitchen knife I always carried. I felt a strange numbness in my fingers but it had to be done. Besides she had an exceedingly beautiful neck. Such a pity!
Friday, August 3, 2007
Gooo Zooom!!
Go Karting is such a fun that even after those high speed 11 laps, I still say 'Dil Mange More'. The occasion was my team outing and the venue was 'Runway 9', located on the out skirts of Hyderabad.
The moment we entered the track, we could see people zipping around the track in their mean machines and I was skeptical whether I will be able to drive as fast as those guys or not. But moment I sat into my "Ferrari" , wearing a F1 style jacket and a helmet, I never cared for anything except making my car run as fast as possible, chasing the people in front of me, blocking the ones behind me and completely enjoy my first experience in the fast lane.
Since, the 4 laps, for which the ticket was valid, were never going to be enough, 4 of us went ahead and bought tickets for 6 more laps and this time we were up for some serious racing. Mani went zipping past everyone and since he was driving like a pro, it was weird to try to catch up with him. But three of us chased each other to the finish line. It was fun of the lifetime. Nothing for me has ever matched the heights of excitement and rush of blood I experienced.
So, for people who love fun, thrill, adventure and fast lanes its time to Go zooom!!!
And , yes, for those who are wondering how 4 and 6 added upto 11, guys, I managed to steal an extra lap in the second race. :P
The moment we entered the track, we could see people zipping around the track in their mean machines and I was skeptical whether I will be able to drive as fast as those guys or not. But moment I sat into my "Ferrari" , wearing a F1 style jacket and a helmet, I never cared for anything except making my car run as fast as possible, chasing the people in front of me, blocking the ones behind me and completely enjoy my first experience in the fast lane.
Since, the 4 laps, for which the ticket was valid, were never going to be enough, 4 of us went ahead and bought tickets for 6 more laps and this time we were up for some serious racing. Mani went zipping past everyone and since he was driving like a pro, it was weird to try to catch up with him. But three of us chased each other to the finish line. It was fun of the lifetime. Nothing for me has ever matched the heights of excitement and rush of blood I experienced.
So, for people who love fun, thrill, adventure and fast lanes its time to Go zooom!!!
And , yes, for those who are wondering how 4 and 6 added upto 11, guys, I managed to steal an extra lap in the second race. :P
Friday, April 20, 2007
I Miss U College
Life after college is really difficult . Being a working guy has its own ill effects specially when you are trapped in an environment where there are no friends and only competitors. Its difficult to remain surrounded by workaholics the entire day and save yourself from becoming one. These people dont care for anything, friends really dont mean anything to them when they have work. These guys really dont make friends. Its the IIT people who are usually blamed to be working too hard and making life miserable for others but when I am facing a totally reverse situation, I just dont know how to face it. All masti and fun is out of the life. I am missing my college buddies badly. All of them being in bangalore, I just find anybody to go to and share my mental state. Everything seems to be so plastic and fake. Everybody is in the race to show the manager that he is the one who knows a lot. Where is the place and appreciation for learning now? Nine months into job and I already feel that there's nothing I have learned.The frustration is climbing everyday and truly speaking, I myself dont know how much more of it I would be able to handle before it really will vents out.
The questions I have been asked are:
Why dont I work?
Simply, I just dont feel like
Am I sure this will not happen somewhere else?
I really dont know. I dont know waht the problem is, rather where the problem is. I may be the one who is wrong but one thing is for sure that its just not my problem, others are equally responsible.
I just know one thing, I do deserve better.
The questions I have been asked are:
Why dont I work?
Simply, I just dont feel like
Am I sure this will not happen somewhere else?
I really dont know. I dont know waht the problem is, rather where the problem is. I may be the one who is wrong but one thing is for sure that its just not my problem, others are equally responsible.
I just know one thing, I do deserve better.
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