The Great IIM Mela Part 2

April 9th was a weird day by all standards. I was up at 4 am (horror of horrors). I guess I couldn’t sleep very well. And yet I felt an unnatural calm. I was almost dispassionate. With the end of day zee, a sense of finality had set in. I wasn’t going to join a hotshot I-bank from campus. The next best thing was to focus on what I could achieve the same day. As I got dressed to leave, I could not help grin about how my penalties had finally lapsed the previous night. I was a free man. The insti could hurt me no more…

I looked around me when I got to the MDC. It was definitely quieter than yesterday. Day 0.5 – as tradition has it was carved out to help people recover from the chaotic first day. Yet this year promised to be different. India needed a lot of fin people or so we had been told. And all the big names were up today…

11:30 am… So much for the cheerful exuberance in the morning. I have had only 1 interview so far. My interviewer, who would have looked far more at home at a disc or a Page 3 cocktail affair, had politely inquired about my marital status, age, number of siblings and political contacts. It seemed more like a proposition than an interview.

Next up with the ICL’s lead sponsor. My booming interviewer, a monster of a man doesn’t stop yelling at me. “I am spoilt for choice. I have interns from every top bank in the world interviewing with me today.” He summed it up beautifully. Economics had indeed triumphed. The Indian banks were kicked with their new bargaining power vis-à-vis the unfortunate batch. And that I believe was the order of the day.

I emerged trembling from that interview. My ego shattered, my eyes turbulent pools of tears; terrified by the man. I have never hated a man so much in so little time.

And then déjà vu had to happen. Two companies; both equally interested (at least both seemed like in the beginning) and me the unsure one. I ace the first part of Company A’s interview with economics but falter at Bond maths. The two gentlemen however are impressed and subsequently make their offer known to the PRs. And I was off gallivanting before Company B. Two interviews, two more telephonic interviews and 3 hours later B rejects me. In the meanwhile I have been hidden in a room so that A doesn’t discover me; have been surrounded by 6 PRs and shepherded from one process to another all the while being coached “Say this say that”. It does sound funny now doesn’t it. At that point of time though, it wasn’t in the least.

At least my courtroom drama did have a happy ending. A allows itself to be persuaded to still hire me in spite of their initial protests. And as they leave the process, Ghoda signals me that they have accepted me. I sink gratefully to my knees oblivious to everything. It had ended. I am vaguely aware of people around me patting my back, hugging me, ruffling my hair. I stood stock still unbelieving, reveling in the moment with my friends. I think about everyone who’s stood by me. The two PRs who fought for me, the little devil so far away then, who I had promised I would crack a top Indian bank, and the 3 idiots who stuck by me all the while. Countless others who had believed in me, supported me or had simply held me when I had faltered.

I walk out after some time on uncertain feet. I hear more good news. My buddies have also landed jobs. Collective happiness…the most beautiful thing. The Mela though must still go on…