The shelling had gotten louder. It always does after sundown. Dufus crouched in his bunker and tried blocking out the deafening sound. He heard everything faint these days. Distant almost. And it was embarrassing when he had to keep repeating ‘Sorry?’ when someone talked to him in good earnest. It seemed like the war had raged since eternity. He took out his pocket book. Two months. That’s all it had been.

It was a pleasant day in the woods. But for the shelling. Starry. Moonlit. Romantic almost. If only real life had a mute button, he wondered. He fumbled in his pocket. Four. Five. Six cigarettes. Four would fetch him coffee. Why did he want to have coffee? Some irresistible urge. Something to transport him to happier times. To the café back on the banks of the flowing Danube; where the smell of freshly baked bread and grounded coffee made him sit intoxicated for hours on end. The saxophonist playing in the background; happy tunes like in a fairly tale. And the twilight; and the glow on her face as she stooped down to serve him coffee. And……Biff!!! Red earth smattered onto his face. He’d probably stretched and they had noticed. Sweat streamed down his brow; the crawling; the mud in the face. And the ‘will this be the end?’ feeling that he hated so much.

He hated the yellow light at the mess. Made life, for lack of a better word seem yellow. He walked up to the sergeant. ‘Hey mate, can I get some coffee’, he said, handing him the four stubs. ‘Glad to see you alive and talkin bugger. Heard that was close’, the sergeant replied, smiling. ‘But you know how things are. Coffee now comes for six’. 

‘Six?’ Dufus exclaimed. ‘You trade whiskey for four’

‘Funny eh? Lots more soft souls like you around I suppose. Coffee is six. Take it or leave it’

Dufus stood staring at the sergeant. But one fleeting moment, and the remaining two stubs were in the sergeant’s hands.

He could hear the cicadas in the distance as he sat on the rocks overlooking the night sky. Swig off the coffee mug. He could now hear the Danube flowing. And in the distance, strains from a saxophone that sounded familiar.

                                                *****************

Circa 2008: B school, India

The whiteboard looked distant. And what was that marker colour? Grey? Poor black? And what is that Greek symbol. A half theta – half psi? It seemed too distant to be worried out. For all you know, it might not even be a Greek symbol. It might be a figment of my imagination. And this might not even be a lecture but some strange Freudian dream that I am currently going through.

‘Yes, you have a question?’, the professor enquires.

God bless Freud. But this is no Freudian dream. Neighbour of mine has a question. Always has. Generally profound. The kind that demands respect. Except of course when you are in a state of quasi wakefulness and the profundity suddenly happens.

Yesterday had been another long night. And there was a point in time when I thought the numbers on the excel sheet were moving around to adjacent cells like cards on an Ouija board. That’s when realization dawns really – that I will never ever find the right answer to the assignment problem that I am trying to solve. Like they never ever found Shangri-La. You are here for the learning godammit, I try to convince myself. And grades? Well, they are mere numbers are they not? 

Recess. I fumble for that fiver in my wallet. Coins of all denomination but the one I am looking for. And the godamn vending machine wouldn’t serve coffee for anything else. I need that coffee. And I need it now. 

‘Hiya, you’re looking nice today. You got a fiver’, I ask in valiant hope.

Like it works; it never does. ‘I’ll give you a ten’er. You give me a fiver’, I haggled. Someone shorted the deal. I don’t know who. A cup of coffee at last. It’s insipid. But the caffeine still hits. 

                                                *******************

P.S: The effort of the author is to make a convoluted yet profound statement that history is testimony to the fact, that whether it be German POW camps or Indian B schools, the economic value of a good (in this case, coffee) at times, is much more than it’s actual monetary value. Period.

Freak, didn’t that sound good or what!!!

This qualifies as my first spam (last?) to our section.

My farewell song to our stupendous section is an adaptation of Baz Luhrmann’s famous Sunscreen Song.

It was great knowing you folks. I take with me lots of memories and learnings; a big heartfelt thanks to each one of you.

Love,

K

–

Ladies and Gentlemen of section F of the class of ’09,

 

 

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, accurate asset valuation would be it. The long term benefits of sound asset valuation have been proved by Prof Subra and his ilk whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now

 

 

Enjoy the power and connections of the ISB network; oh never mind; you will not understand the power and connections of the ISB network unless you fall out of the circle some day.

 

 

Trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself in class and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how you could sit through 8.15 AM classes and how you took in SAIT and MGTO in one day….

 

 

Your grades are not as bad as you imagine.

 

 

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve DMOP assignments all by yourself.

 

 

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind a few days before the GSBC exam; they are usually the kind that vaguely occur to you in a 4 AM drunken stupor after a batch party and come back to haunt you with the hangover.

 

 

Do one thing everyday that makes you remember ISB and this fabulous year we all spent here.

 

 

Gym.

 

 

Don’t suck up to your boss.

 

 

Don’t put up with juniors who suck up to you.

 

 

Find time to enjoy your child’s first step. First words. Maybe his/her first ‘A’

Grade.

 

 

Don’t waste your time keeping track of the love affairs on campus. There just may be a time when your name will be doing the rounds.

 

 

Remember those who helped you write out each of your MADM assignments.

 

 

Remember those who nursed you back to health; even when the ailment was just a hangover.

 

 

Forget the ones who were intellectual King Kongs and yet losers enough to make you feel like a ‘diversity’ candidate. When you succeed at this, tell me how!

 

 

Keep your old smses sent in class especially to make you stay awake.

 

 

Throw away old assignments marked over in red.

 

 

Remember to thank each bench partner who giggled with you through

mundane 2.15 PM classes.

 

 

Remember also that ‘true’ love will come and go. But the guy who played his mandolin for you at 2.15 AM when you were freaking out about a presentation will always be there.

 

 

Don’t feel guilty if you switch careers once in every two years….one of my ex-colleagues is a millionaire through stock options, 45 years old and still doesn’t know what he wants to do.

 

 

Fall recklessly in love. Enjoy the bitter sweet moments it brings along.

 

 

Be kind to your parents. You’ll miss them when they are gone.

 

 

Maybe some of us will turn billionaires. Maybe some of us will be monks who sell off our Ferraris. At least one or two of us should end up marrying a hot Bollywood star. But always remember this year and the friends you made since they loved you without these bells and whistles.

 

 

Enjoy your work.

 

 

Read something non-work related everyday.

 

 

Learn to pray/meditate/relax/de-stress.  Trust me, there is nothing like an evening yoga class with your gang.

 

 

Dance without inhibitions, without apprehensions. Really, nobody is looking.

 

 

Sing while you walk.

 

 

Sing to your sweetheart on the phone.  

 

 

Surprise your siblings by sending them flowers. They are probably the best

link to understanding yourself.  

 

 

Understand that true friends teach you CFIN a night before the exam without treating you like a bozo.

 

 

These are the ones you learn to give up your life for.

 

 

Smile when you mean it. Let your smile reach your eyes.

 

 

Cut out the BS Bingo in your lives. Really, an MBA from ISB is a lot more than jargon.

 

 

Learn to appreciate humor. All forms of it including sleazy jokes since you really never need a reason more than that to enjoy a good laugh.

 

 

Do NOT discuss grades/hikes/incentives/perks/appraisals in the office pantry. You will be unpopular and even an entire PR machinery cannot help you then.

 

Take a long holiday with your partner.

 

 

Even better, take a 10-day break with your buddies from ISB every year.

 

 

Discuss threadbare right NOW if corruption is really good for society. Since there never will be the time or passion for such discussions in the future.

 

 

Spell check all your documents before sending them out. Lest your boss sends you back an amendment that says “did you mean pantry or panty” while referring to the changes in the coffee machines and snacks menu.

 

 

Don’t expect your partner to understand humor in songs like “aa ante”. It is just an ISB thing.

 

 

Maybe you will have an arranged marriage. Maybe you’ll find your soul mate right here in ISB. Maybe you’ll elope. Maybe you will not marry. Either which ways, whenever there is a party, please invite me..

 

 

Don’t let anyone take you for granted. Learn that there will be this one special person who you will gladly allow yourself to be walked over by and not complain.

 

 

My advise is entirely my own. Maybe you’ll laugh at this email. Maybe we will discuss this when we meet at the 2019 Solstice.

 

But trust me on one thing, asset evaluations ARE important… 

 

PS – This is an email I had sent out to the section two days before our Term 4 final exams in one of those oh-so-emotional moments (maybe I should have been studying then!). Our core terms have come to an end. With this the sections also split up as we get re-grouped according to our electives. Here’s to the electives section being as much fun as Section F!