Chronicle- MBA 2006-08 -II

Where do I start? May be when for the first time I see three people talking, Mubashir, Roof and Sheen, damn you guys, they were meeting for the first time and planning a picnic for the class which was yet to meet. It very well describes where it takes us for the next two years.

First class- Ajaz Mattoo comes in with the faculty, for the first and last time I see class as silent as that. Everyone seemed to be keen on ‘INTERNALISING’ each and every word spoken there and then. Silence was killing, I wanted to fracture the empty chair next to me on one of the professor’s skull, his old hair style is so ugly. Stillness broke with the knock on the door, a simple but pretty girl comes in, roughly nervous. I latter came to know, her name is Makhmoora.

I assure that every student in class felt like he was part of KIM-Hazratbal, some thing as strong an institution as IIM-Ahmadabad. And we had every reason to believe it. Prof.Shabir elated us more by talking about MIT and Harvard’s method of teaching. That till date remains to be the most motivating class; I sat in, in DMS. Iflah khan latter confessed of being scared of that untrue and full of lies lecture. Where the hell did he think he would fetch us jobs worth 10 Million Dollar? If nothing but every student learned how to fake his accent and some people proved far better in “FAKING”.

First break and all of us walk like the flock of sheep to Naseem Bagh, sit adjacent to little green shed, under the shade of a mighty chinar. We introduce ourselves, so many names, hush, information overload. I just do not listen to every name and make sure whichever I listen to I remember. Midway through the conversation, Insha, Deeba and Aasima get some tea and snacks, and I comically comment, “That’s what I would like for next two years”. And fortunately that’s what follows. What was not included was Kicks, new Pinches and Punches. Something I will miss “Fortunately”. Through next few days I remember every name.

Next day early morning, I see Fawzaan. He was in the same college I was in. We just knew each other and were much less than friends. But for the coming months, we started knowing each other better and somewhere we hit the right chord in each other.

Prof Shabir, complimented us by dedicating a theory in his class. “Like Irtif and Fawzaan, who got into trouble together, and are found on the same bench”. Some way these troubles got us much closer. (Perfectly under normal human norms).

Even before Insha and I were friends, one day she whacked me with the scale, I justifiably run after her and she broke last bench of our first class. Damn, I thought she broke her limbs as well but she proved to be hard for the wood used in furniture. Latter I got to know, even steel is used. But then that was just the start.

Iflah and I started writing on copies of unknown guys and girls in class. Signing pages just to make them unusable, filling the information, which we couldn’t even guess. Silly and absurd things which are endearing and not irritating at all. Amir’s scolding lesson’s started right that day, when we filled his J&K Bank Diary; he still uses the dairy this day. I am still unsure if he washes that dairy after every sem.

Somewhere in the first semester, when I was scheduled to go to Delhi for conference, I read my rough which was inscribed with:

Jewellery for Rouf; Sandals for Sheen; Clothes for Saba.

Damn, these kinds of silly things brought us together only to part away one day, in the longer run of life. Something which we cannot escape or run away from, something all of us morally and ethically are bound to do. But in this longer run for life we shall make it sure, Insha Allah, that we don’t enslave ourselves to the blind dream.

First picnic -Pahalgam. Boys empty handed and girls falling sides with heavy hot cases. One thing I am sure of, we always enjoyed the travel, more then the picnic spot. Waseem, Tabish and Faizan singing in full swing, Raat Ko Baara Bajay, Department ma Hulad Macha, Maina Suna, Kya Suna? And then a song for every one, followed. Where do I get friends to sing songs for me now? It’s hard to believe that no pranks are to follow. It’s hard to believe, Life won’t be same again. No class picnics, No friends to serve food, no friends to click you in disgusting acts.

Guys I appreciate your appetite, after having the feast girls had bought along, where did that packed food brought by Nazima’s Dad go? Waseem you must be still hungry? Zahoor we digested it all, I remember they made us wash the dishes. I still have the pic with me. But then that won’t count to any expirence in corporate sector.

Chronicle- MBA 2006-08 -III

Seniors –Junior Brawl: There are always black sheep in a class and so were we. We just could not give ourselves to ragging, whatever way they wanted. There is no importance for the seniors in here, so I keep it short. Things heated up and ended up in a fight when my lone voice resonated in the hall, where eight of the senior students were about to dance. I had to repeat that line almost a hundred times before the inquiry committee we faced. Words were simple but sharp, “Nach meri bulbul tou paisa milenga”, and my voice made it look more intimidating. Fawzaan and Lubaid faced suspension and together we faced inquiry committee, which at some point in time had turned to be so ugly that we thought nothing less than a semester down, would come our way. I remember Lubaid being uncontrollable before committee; Khan I always had my ears on the door. But yea, I still want to see your T-Shirt, with some four letter word inscribed. You actually made Mufeed say it.

Prof.Shabir’s scary statement that he had my 20 page history and Fawzaan’s 200 page history. WhoaaaaaHHH, he took such pains to write that. Fawzaan, Why don’t you him ask for a copy?

One day I would have burst laughing if Sem down presumption would have not been on my mind. I had not known him till that day, and he was like “Not even the birds fly over this department without my permission”. My mind straight away went to Govinda’s Maharaja, an Indian movie, in which he talked to birds.

Chronicle- MBA 2006-08 -IV

One fine day, after class was over in seminar hall, Qurat came to me and said, “Why are you so indifferent towards me?” I would have burst laughing but she was damn serious, I let the question go with my smile.

Soon the first semester ended, exams were to start in a fortnight and we had nothing more than Eco’s Area of focus and the doubt, if he really remembered the questions. Half the class was still unsure if Farooq wore a WIG. For OB- We always knew that marks are sent before the paper is set. And the prospective candidates who the class was ready to see in back log list was – Me, Fawzaan, Lubaid but fortunately we survived. I assure none of us went to his chamber. Not even to get our History.

Two worst papers we had to were, Quantitative Techniques and Finance. Something most of the students were bad at. Most of the students had one excuse, “We have a Science Background”. Even Darzi would inquire from student before asking a question, “Aap BBA hai?

Most of the students still soothe their minds by saying, “We are Managers, and we have nothing to do with making Balance sheets”. Why can’t they just admit, we can’t make them. Come on we cant even do what MBA’s are suppose to do. No, we cant find jobs worth a million dollar.

Group studies were on high in first semester. Almost every one studied in groups, I remember Zaib and me walking the deserted streets of Raj Bagh late evenings before we resumed studies which did not last long and then we would have dancing sessions and to relieve our over developed brains we would stand on our heads.

I still remember Zahid, Khalid and me studying together at Zahid’s house for QT. Damn, he kept me awake all night. Starting with probability and ending with functions. Khalid, he was almost asleep at 10:30.Yea, I remember Saba, Rouf and Sheen too were together studying QT. They irritated us with some miss calls. But yea they proved a relief while Zahid was crapping me with Simplex.

It was a month long exam, almost exhausting and worth having a trip at end.

Chronicle- MBA 2006-08 -V

No soon the exams finished, people got busy with preparations for Industrial Tour, something which had kept us motivated all through the first semester. Zaib dragged me along for every work he was entitled to do as a CR, more because “The Placement Officer” had even transferred his work to him. From writing to the IYH for accommodation, to sending the draft, to reserving of air tickets, to arranging local transport to airport, to making of a fake I card for one student, to talking to any girl’s parents who wanted to be sure where they were sending their daughter.

And one Feb day we left, parting away with academics at least for a couple of weeks. We missed Insha and Fawzaan, who missed the trip. Rafi Khan moved in slow motion this day too, making us alarmingly late for the flight. It was not to end here; we had to pick Ayoub mid way which created some confusion as well.

We had almost half the flight space to us. We finally arrived at Delhi amid all the confusions and excitement. It hardly mattered as to what would happen next until we were all together. We were just ready face anything, even the two “SPYWARE VIRUSES” we had along. Once at Delhi airport, we were flocked into taxi’s for IYH.

First thing people did after reaching Delhi was buying Sim cards. Technology has got on every one of us. “Be Connected” seemed to be the new funda of life. The shop we viste for Sim cards was multi dimensional. He even clicked almost all of us for the forms to be filled by Subscribers.

Yea, that chicken Tikka brought life to my taste buds and also sufficed for the dinner. Days which followed were exactly intended to know each other better.

Be it Mehmood’s obsession for ironed clothes. Sameer, Zubair, Faizan and Wajahat’s art of playing cards and infecting almost every one with their game. Waseem and Tabish’s smoking window, which opened late in night. Zaib, Zahid and My accomplishments in keeping people awake all the night. Shafat’s early to bed and early to rise theory. Shahid’s strong communication skills which were duly tested after he talked to almost ever other guy present in hostel. Ovais’s handiness with camera during which he lost half of the best video’s of our tour. Even the one in which I demonstrated my journalistic skills. Zahoor’s book buying ability, he was a KAS aspirant then. Amir’s breakfast, with all unused butter and jam falling on his plate from every corner.. Toufeeq’s managerial ability of eating two Ice-Creams at Nirula without paying even for the one. Wajahat’s style of brushing his teeth while seated on a wash basin. Mubashir’s caring attitude.

Girls while in hostel remained busy with themselves, playing their own games. One thing we know is they took lot of time getting ready except for Aasima and Deeba who always had breakfast with us. Or that Aasima, Saba and Sheen’s stunt of scaring people with some layer of face pack applied. And Shaista’s shopping of a life time.

The dinners where Zahid made sure that every one reached Kashmir House some three hours prior to dinner. And made sure that none of them had a change of taste and did not loose schedule even on this kind of an outing. Zaib, Zahoor, Amir and I had our first dinner at Pakistan Embassy (half the class still doubts) and then followed with other dinners at Al-Quraysh, no that’s not in Lahore. That actually was lots of food with Appy Fizz. Followed usually with Ice-Creams an a long walk back to hostel.

First industrial visit was to Maruti Udyog, where Zaib excitedly asked the manager about their recruiting policy, and disappointedly the answer was, “We Recruit from Premium Institute’s only”. Even then many others’ followed with the same question in other organization’s only to fetch the same answer. Some thing which should have been disappointing but it almost became fun and latter we would joke about it.

Yea, Zaib you brushed Midway, Amir still has the pics. Saba, Aasima and Deeba tried their hands on cycle rickshaw. While guys clicked photos on the driver’s seat of the big bus we traveled in, only Ovais looked real and placed.

Britania- it took us quite some time before we got to the right place.. And finally we made our way into the factory wearing Congress caps. All we could smell was Biscuits, and most of us had the nausea feeling. Amir just looked like Subash Chandra Bose, and Rafi Khan wanted him to be clicked that way. That’s one time I heard Rafi talking, all the other times I was getting to believe that he is dumb. And that wonderful Dialogue of Tabish, “How many biscuits can we take home”, still gives me laughter fits. And Saba, yea she actually made them make tea for us. Ayoub’s gratitude had not even a single changed word from Maruti, not even the names I believe, I did not comprehend if he really knew this was altogether a different industry with different people or that he had just crammed those lines.

Mother Diary. That was a beautiful day. It rained all through the morning, our carriers had improved to a great extent, only that all of us could not be together while travelling. Innova’s and Safari’s was all we had, giving us the feel of being corporate Czars.

Milk most of times irritates my stomach so; I just clicked people gulping down liters together. Not only the milk, but ice creams too. Saba had too in hand. All the day long I thought we would have to hospitalize few of our students, but then I got to appreciate their appetites. That was the last industry we visited.

That open place in IYH, where we would sit for hour’s together, talking and singing. Irritating all other people sleeping sound in Hostel rooms. That English woman who came out in the middle of night to teach us etiquette’s. Best place to sit on was the swing, where we were about to through Ayoub ad Rafi for not allowing us a trip to Taj Mahal.

There aren’t many things which could be ignored during the trip. Just like Febuary 14, when all of us guys wanted to go to Ansal Plaza but girls made sure that they would accompany, whatever the case be. Or that valentine eve when Saba after long speculations presented Tabish a Yellow rose. And Tabish reiterated by giving his socks which he hadn’t washed for at least a year. That’s infectious. Saba got it injected with some high dosage of Norflox latter. But that didn’t improve its condition as such.

That after noon at Apu Ghar, where Aasima made me and Deeba accompany her in almost all the swings and slides. I remember Sheen crying every family member’s name, “Mumma, Paapaa, Naanii, Bayaaa” and tears falling like anything. Rouf was almost unconscious. Nazima made all of us sit around her for about half an hour before she could get to her senses. I still do not understand what on earth they were trying to do, why at all did they have to risk their hearts. But then that also added flavor to the day.

The day did not end there. While Sheen, Aasima, Deeba and I were having Masala Dosa, our brave brothers were fighting Afghan’s. Praise me Zaib, I had made you have some Afghani chicken the day before. Toufeeq and Waseem had gone into negotiations while others were still fighting, that’s what Delhi does to people or may be that was Shabir’s Influence. Iflah and Rouf spilled even the last tear drop somehow making the evening melancholy.

While all the class was on its way back to home, Zaib, Zahid and I were on half India tour. I wonder this day, why did Zaib not buy Paav for the lady. And what made us have Ice-Cream at about 3 am in central Mumbai.