Scene : Bus No. 244A, some part of Bengaluru, circa 14th April
“Anna, illi..er, I mean, Alli...Majestic Stand hogu bekku.”
“Amma, wraang bus. 314B”.
Hysterically push through a mass of human bodies that would make Auschwitz look like a tea party. Listen to questionable remarks from harrowed women. Yank laptop bag and document file through flower baskets and boxes. Nearly rip a hole on last, clean formal shirt. Make flying leap off bus and escape into glorious fresh air...and run like mad for the correct bus pulling out of the last stop.
Flashback:
A senior of mine once said “MBA main fresher hona gunaah hai.” Methinks an engraved golden plaque installed in every Indian B-school would not do justice to these words. That smug internal smirk you get at the beginning of the year - “Exams? I SO got this”, is wiped clean off when faced with the onslaught of assignments and current-affairs-gyaan-requirements. Come internship-week and fresh fear doth arise, and nothing, absolutely NOTHING, reduces yours truly to a nervous wreck than the thought of battling it out in a corporate environment.
The “Let’s All Take Silly Decisions!” Week, a.k.a. Management in Practice interviews at TAPMI kick-started with nail-biting speculation, ‘helpful’ tips from smug seniors, and exponentially increased canteen coffee sales. Of course, Mrs. Karma did make her typical unwelcome entrance, and I found myself at one point wishing the interviewers from a premier company famed for time-keeping devices, with a cheery “Good Morning!, at 7:00 pm. (I could swear on my canteen chai that the lady interviewer was trying to stifle laughter.)
Countless suits, GD’s bordering on the clinically insane and an awkward Skype interview later, I found myself taking a leap of faith right into a Surat-based start-up that dealt in educational products. Faced with two months in Gujju-land and a 30 hour journey, the world will never know the amount of patience it took to convince a typical South Indian family that Mumbai isn’t bursting at the seams with terrorists and that one in every five girls who travel via train across India do not end up in dire straits. No amount of epic protests could prevent me from being force-packed with enough clothes and food to feed Genghis Khan’s army, though. The journey was as eventful as ticket-less cross country journeys go; fresh perspectives on the Indian railways were made, and fresher resolves NEVER to travel with luggage larger than your forearm.
Ever had that feeling when you are completely and mentally steeled for a task at hand, and your zen-like resolve is shattered when the scenario changes entirely?
Well, me neither, until 2nd April 2012 when I was sweetly informed by the Marketing Head in the orientation session that my MIP would consist of a tiny bit of travelling. And by a tiny bit, he meant Seven major cities, Three states, in Two months.
Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, could have prepared me for this. There I was, with a suitcase which could comfortably house a Great Dane, backpacking across South India, promoting a web portal that promised college students an impasse from the traditional CAT-GRE coaching.
Target: Colleges and coaching centers. Modus Operandi: Seminars on higher studies and B2B meetings.
Piece of cake? Guess again.
April 2nd – May beginning : Bangalore
It is day 24. Retribution seems nowhere in sight. With all the colleges closing for their vacation, I am beginning to feel like one of those cartoon characters who slip past a door nanoseconds before it slams shut. Placement Officers, the majority of whom looked inches away from exploding in frustration (fond memories of Engineering placement week, sigh) and of course, the quintessential receptionist-cum-guard at the lobby who could not be fooled by any amount of nonchalant expressions. And to top it all, one would think staying in a PG would be easy pie to someone who spent her Engineering tenure in a hostel, right? Right? Not by a long shot.
In actuality, it becomes an endless loop of missing the last idli by a whisker owing to the morning breakfast stampede, a mad rush to collect posters and other materials required for the promotion, all culminating in a flying leap onto the last bus pulling out of the stop. For two months, hapless early morning commuters on the Indiranagar-MG Road stretch bus were subjected to my incessant stomach concertos.
At this juncture, I would be failing in my duty if I did not offer my humblest gratitude to the heaven-sent Engineer who conceived the idea of the Bangalore Metro Rail. A more fitting machine of supreme helpfulness borne out of utter necessity, this land hath never seen. For someone whose knowledge of the local language nearly got her in deep trouble on several occasions, frequently messed up her “Gothu” with her “Hathu”, and was in constant danger of asphyxiation in local buses, the Metro was a heavenly flyover to correct destination-al bliss.
It would be unfair to assume I did not get any work done in between all these externalities. My kilometre-long hikes in sweltering heat did pay off on several occasions and believe you me, each seminar I conducted was worth it. J Nothing gives a bigger ego-boost than watching 100+ students, in the very shoes you were in a year ago, albeit with more determination, listen keenly to you speak about the power of higher studies! A partial MBA did help, albeit with the usage of terms such as “appropriate conditioning” and “value proposition”.
The Tale of Two Months
More than the setting up of seminars, arrangement for Placement Training packages for students, and dealerships with coaching centres, which was the major chunk of my internship, each college I visited had a unique anecdote or experience involved, which proved more valuable than the outcome. I doubt if I would ever forget the Placement Officer of a top college in Coimbatore with whom I spent probably the most informative one hour ever – the discussion ranged from Stock Options to everything that was wrong with the current educational scenario. I emerged from a meeting with the Training Officer of Sri Krishna College with new found respect for Government-aided institutions. I gaped wide-eyed at a dedicated Apple lab in PSG College, Coimbatore, housing at least a 100 iMacs, on which two scruffy 8 year olds were playing card games. Yet another Officer left me with a warm glow in my heart and a light skip in my feet when he glanced at my business card and said, “Business Development Executive? As a fresher? I’m impressed.” (Not much came out of that meeting, but hey, a compliment is a compliment is a compliment is a compliment. Or something along those lines.)
I would rather like to remember my Internship as a “Series of (un)Fortunate Events”, as the venerable Lemony Snicket would say.
There was the venerable ex-Military uncle-ji who ran the PG I stayed in in Coimbatore, who made me sign no less than SIX official documents to even let me step into the main house. There was the ill-tempered IT professional in the bus I took home every night in Bangalore, who verbally and physically harassed everyone within an inch of her – until the day she shoved the woman SI of the province. (Ah, Sweet Justice.) There was, of course, Google Maps, which was my silent partner throughout two months for hplanning the day’s journey – up until the day I travelled an hour and a half to the outskirts, hopped into an auto to reach a college which was supposedly 500 meters away on my trusty map, and was told that it was no less than 24 kms. Countless near-sunstrokes, an unrecognizable tan, a country-worth of tender coconuts, and of course, I believe an ungodly number of hours were spent by me, bleary-eyed on my laptop at 8:00 am, cursing the Indian railways to eternal damnation as I tried for tatkal tickets.
As I began ‘creating’ my Internship Report on my return to college, it seemed unfair that we were limited to ‘Methodologies’ and ‘SWOT’s. The richness of experience is what we have to offer from an internship; the little lessons that no Management text can teach, and the big ones that are only borne through hands-on experiences in a start-up. And now I wait...for my juniors to ask me questions on Internship options. Boy, do I have some gyaan to offer!
“Anna, illi..er, I mean, Alli...Majestic Stand hogu bekku.”
“Amma, wraang bus. 314B”.
Hysterically push through a mass of human bodies that would make Auschwitz look like a tea party. Listen to questionable remarks from harrowed women. Yank laptop bag and document file through flower baskets and boxes. Nearly rip a hole on last, clean formal shirt. Make flying leap off bus and escape into glorious fresh air...and run like mad for the correct bus pulling out of the last stop.
Flashback:
A senior of mine once said “MBA main fresher hona gunaah hai.” Methinks an engraved golden plaque installed in every Indian B-school would not do justice to these words. That smug internal smirk you get at the beginning of the year - “Exams? I SO got this”, is wiped clean off when faced with the onslaught of assignments and current-affairs-gyaan-requirements. Come internship-week and fresh fear doth arise, and nothing, absolutely NOTHING, reduces yours truly to a nervous wreck than the thought of battling it out in a corporate environment.
The “Let’s All Take Silly Decisions!” Week, a.k.a. Management in Practice interviews at TAPMI kick-started with nail-biting speculation, ‘helpful’ tips from smug seniors, and exponentially increased canteen coffee sales. Of course, Mrs. Karma did make her typical unwelcome entrance, and I found myself at one point wishing the interviewers from a premier company famed for time-keeping devices, with a cheery “Good Morning!, at 7:00 pm. (I could swear on my canteen chai that the lady interviewer was trying to stifle laughter.)
Countless suits, GD’s bordering on the clinically insane and an awkward Skype interview later, I found myself taking a leap of faith right into a Surat-based start-up that dealt in educational products. Faced with two months in Gujju-land and a 30 hour journey, the world will never know the amount of patience it took to convince a typical South Indian family that Mumbai isn’t bursting at the seams with terrorists and that one in every five girls who travel via train across India do not end up in dire straits. No amount of epic protests could prevent me from being force-packed with enough clothes and food to feed Genghis Khan’s army, though. The journey was as eventful as ticket-less cross country journeys go; fresh perspectives on the Indian railways were made, and fresher resolves NEVER to travel with luggage larger than your forearm.
Ever had that feeling when you are completely and mentally steeled for a task at hand, and your zen-like resolve is shattered when the scenario changes entirely?
Well, me neither, until 2nd April 2012 when I was sweetly informed by the Marketing Head in the orientation session that my MIP would consist of a tiny bit of travelling. And by a tiny bit, he meant Seven major cities, Three states, in Two months.
Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, could have prepared me for this. There I was, with a suitcase which could comfortably house a Great Dane, backpacking across South India, promoting a web portal that promised college students an impasse from the traditional CAT-GRE coaching.
Target: Colleges and coaching centers. Modus Operandi: Seminars on higher studies and B2B meetings.
Piece of cake? Guess again.
April 2nd – May beginning : Bangalore
It is day 24. Retribution seems nowhere in sight. With all the colleges closing for their vacation, I am beginning to feel like one of those cartoon characters who slip past a door nanoseconds before it slams shut. Placement Officers, the majority of whom looked inches away from exploding in frustration (fond memories of Engineering placement week, sigh) and of course, the quintessential receptionist-cum-guard at the lobby who could not be fooled by any amount of nonchalant expressions. And to top it all, one would think staying in a PG would be easy pie to someone who spent her Engineering tenure in a hostel, right? Right? Not by a long shot.
In actuality, it becomes an endless loop of missing the last idli by a whisker owing to the morning breakfast stampede, a mad rush to collect posters and other materials required for the promotion, all culminating in a flying leap onto the last bus pulling out of the stop. For two months, hapless early morning commuters on the Indiranagar-MG Road stretch bus were subjected to my incessant stomach concertos.
At this juncture, I would be failing in my duty if I did not offer my humblest gratitude to the heaven-sent Engineer who conceived the idea of the Bangalore Metro Rail. A more fitting machine of supreme helpfulness borne out of utter necessity, this land hath never seen. For someone whose knowledge of the local language nearly got her in deep trouble on several occasions, frequently messed up her “Gothu” with her “Hathu”, and was in constant danger of asphyxiation in local buses, the Metro was a heavenly flyover to correct destination-al bliss.
It would be unfair to assume I did not get any work done in between all these externalities. My kilometre-long hikes in sweltering heat did pay off on several occasions and believe you me, each seminar I conducted was worth it. J Nothing gives a bigger ego-boost than watching 100+ students, in the very shoes you were in a year ago, albeit with more determination, listen keenly to you speak about the power of higher studies! A partial MBA did help, albeit with the usage of terms such as “appropriate conditioning” and “value proposition”.
The Tale of Two Months
More than the setting up of seminars, arrangement for Placement Training packages for students, and dealerships with coaching centres, which was the major chunk of my internship, each college I visited had a unique anecdote or experience involved, which proved more valuable than the outcome. I doubt if I would ever forget the Placement Officer of a top college in Coimbatore with whom I spent probably the most informative one hour ever – the discussion ranged from Stock Options to everything that was wrong with the current educational scenario. I emerged from a meeting with the Training Officer of Sri Krishna College with new found respect for Government-aided institutions. I gaped wide-eyed at a dedicated Apple lab in PSG College, Coimbatore, housing at least a 100 iMacs, on which two scruffy 8 year olds were playing card games. Yet another Officer left me with a warm glow in my heart and a light skip in my feet when he glanced at my business card and said, “Business Development Executive? As a fresher? I’m impressed.” (Not much came out of that meeting, but hey, a compliment is a compliment is a compliment is a compliment. Or something along those lines.)
I would rather like to remember my Internship as a “Series of (un)Fortunate Events”, as the venerable Lemony Snicket would say.
There was the venerable ex-Military uncle-ji who ran the PG I stayed in in Coimbatore, who made me sign no less than SIX official documents to even let me step into the main house. There was the ill-tempered IT professional in the bus I took home every night in Bangalore, who verbally and physically harassed everyone within an inch of her – until the day she shoved the woman SI of the province. (Ah, Sweet Justice.) There was, of course, Google Maps, which was my silent partner throughout two months for hplanning the day’s journey – up until the day I travelled an hour and a half to the outskirts, hopped into an auto to reach a college which was supposedly 500 meters away on my trusty map, and was told that it was no less than 24 kms. Countless near-sunstrokes, an unrecognizable tan, a country-worth of tender coconuts, and of course, I believe an ungodly number of hours were spent by me, bleary-eyed on my laptop at 8:00 am, cursing the Indian railways to eternal damnation as I tried for tatkal tickets.
As I began ‘creating’ my Internship Report on my return to college, it seemed unfair that we were limited to ‘Methodologies’ and ‘SWOT’s. The richness of experience is what we have to offer from an internship; the little lessons that no Management text can teach, and the big ones that are only borne through hands-on experiences in a start-up. And now I wait...for my juniors to ask me questions on Internship options. Boy, do I have some gyaan to offer!
considering the fact that I didn't realise this when I read it on my mobile. Well written 