I wanted this to be one of those bschool blogs...but well..or how I finally got the hang of bschool essays

(Disclaimer:these r purely my own thoughts and not meant to deride anyone..take it wid a pinch of salt..)

Yea..I left it pretty late.... at the last minute trying to cram in two applications..So this blog is more abt what I really think my essays shd contain...its wat comes abt after repeated readings of "Why I want to do an MBA" , after essays written by guys, who when they were toddlers and their mums pushed them around in prams, saw the Harvard building in one of these life changing moments and discovered their calling " who, ever since they cud spell Sloan knew that they wanted to go there, and lived their lives as shining beacons of integrity and competence.In the midst of all this goodness they also started a few companies, made phenomenal profits, and organized fund raisers abt every evening and did community service when they wanted a breather.Once they were CEO's they decided they wanted to go to bschool.
The first time I read these bschool essays, I had a minor stroke.The world seemed to be full of these lean mean focussed sharks who had an unimaginable list of achievements.I felt like this slightly daft goldfish(oh ok I am a narcissist)..who had unwittingly strayed into forbidden territory.
Neway once the initial shock wore off, it was a matter of twisting words and umm..well dats another story..n not one I am likely to go into..
But at the end of it, I really enjoyed the process.It was a time of introspection, and remembering all those high points in your life.A very pleasant experience if you ask me.So though the essays arent much to speak of, working on them does give you one of those sunshine moments.
Ok to come to more pressing issues..I have been reading pratchett..yea that mite be kinda obvious by this post, but a few other books I would recommend, The Shadow Lines(Amitav Ghosh), easily his best book, read it for the imagery, the style, Transmission by Hari Kunzru, exceedingly well written, very droll, very insightful portrait of the contemporary IT male, was in the middle of reading the Rushdie latest when Flatmate1 unceremoniously took it and went off smwhr, so cant comment much, but it looked promising.
Guess I should be getting back to drafting an essay for "what matters most to me", wish I cud mk it a "who matters"...well but thts tricky...

to giddy with luv:):)..but then some things never change!!!!

It’s a working day tomorrow and I have a call early morning. I am hardly your vintage techie(dunno why I used tht adjective here)I don’t satisfy any of the requirements of the so called cult.I mean I cant stay up at nites reading abt the latest jdk version or smthng or wax eloquent abt firefox(I mean I don’t see why a window popping in another tab….should make me shout ‘eureka’ and feel tht the society is finally utopian )..so I feel kinda silly among the hallowed presence of this ‘passionate species’, also I don’t party all through the weekend...and an MBA once told me was the principal “techie” trait(kinda silly if u ask me..but then again he is an MBA:D)
But this post is about giddy...or rather abt us n giddy...my namesake n anti-alter ego(no dats NOT a word:D..but pretty apt dont u think?)in college. Being room mates all through college we just had to be friends..but then again it was natural with giddy...
The fact is dat she wud be married soon and while we are planning our clothes n jewellery fr the event, it is kinda natural tht I recount some incidents, coz after all
they were memorable..
Once the four of us were in a crowded bus from MG to airport road. We missed our stop so the usually excitable G wailed like a banshee and pushed me ,crying squeakily for me to get out. I don’t know what superhuman feat she wanted to propel me to…but the result was that I overbalanced and neatly landed on the lap of a rather sinister looking lady. She was apparently just all looks and no spunk..coz after I surveyed my new found surroundings. I was so angry with giddy that I proceeded to chide her thoroughly all the while forgetting that I was cosily parked on this lady’s lap. But after the initial shock wore off....or I guess her sinister instincts were aroused she decided to take matters into her own hands(literally) and pushed me off her lap with a rather determined air. I am told I gave her a rather injured and hurt look…for unseating me from this position of power …and then with a resigned air picked myself up to general amusement of the whole bus. I was specifically asked to recount this incident by my friends (humph!)..who were all pretty delirious at that time. I fail to see the humor but I guess I cud have waited a while b4 scolding giddy..:D
to be contd...