IBS - Sab Ullu Ke Pattho Ke Liye!

Recruiters...Don't Judge Me Through this Article.. It's an Outburst of the Soul... PROFESSIONALISM THY Name's SALEEM :)

From the horniest of rascals to the coolest of dudes, from the sweetest of souls to the superlatives in self-centered individuals and from determined last gasp-mile long-brain fucked-studying marathons to 3 hours of farras, IBS had it all. One of the oddities when one piles-up a 600 strong bunch of maniacs together in one building is the experience of knowing (and I mean actually understanding!!) all those individuals in a span of a mere 18months! A lifetime’s learning in the span of a couple of hundred days.

Where everyday spent just had to bring in something new, like non-stop toppings on your favourite ice-cream cone, one after the other, ever day for 18months! Wouldn’t bet on slurping and smacking my lips on this thought though….all scoops weren’t all that sweet!

It would be safe to claim that I had come across and known the most number of people in the college, but this isn't the time or the way to weigh everyone on my scale (It wouldn’t matter anyways) and therefore got my nose rubbed to the ground more times than I would’ve liked or anticipated. Still no credit could be taken out of the hellova experience I had in the most unexpected of times.

Funny how I came to this place, attended the first day in complete formal attire and even specs to complement the look, and was never seen wearing the same ever again(even for presentations!!). Trust me when I say this, ”This could have been possible only in IBS”. I, like many others, got away with almost everything…some lectures, few lectures, no lectures..What College????

Right from writing a complete essay on BUM AGGARWAL right under his nose on the front bench, to setting the clock 15mins ahead, to smuggling samosas and pakoras in the running lecture, to being called a Criminal and a Terrorist by the teacher in-front of the whole class (and that while being the CR!), to bunking the college for one month straight to giving presentations in chappals, to FLIRTING ( special mention to Digvijay Gaur, Aditya Vikram Pandey, Raman Behl, Angad, Akshay Bhasin, Vinayak, Aniket, Aditya Vir Sharma, ADITYA Ghai, AKshay khanna..to name a few), to waking up in the morning and still not going to the college, to endless DAARU parties, to post-midnight hunger pangs, to drunken driving, to abusing absolutely anyone and everyone..WE DID IT ALL!

For many of us it was the perfect setting and for me, a learning curve. But I wouldn’t call it an entirely learning process because I still have trouble placing heads under the Assets and Liabilities side of a balance sheet. If 1st Sem accounts was crazy, then economics made me scared-shitless! Who in the right frame of mind wants to study economics? Leave alone like it. And the RUDE joke was people repeatedly reminding me How interesting and easy the subject was! Blah Blah Blah…A puny miserable rat’s ass, that’s what ECO was to me. No wonder I took 4 long hours garnishing my exteriors a day before the Final Eco exam.

Unlike everyone from the college, I loved those terrifying exam days, when the studious lied about studying nothing and the moronic rascals like us who didn’t know the syllabus, the books, the chapters and even the Teacher of the subject and still kidded about being prepared with all the subjects just to watch the other half shit in their pants and re-re-re-revise their course. We were the Direct Descendants of the DEVIL himself.

Everything we did, plan, study(or not), exchange notes, farras, Everything came down to just one plain fact, PLACEMENTS.

An 18 month Armageddon between Finance and Marketing culminating into Marketing-people joining banks and Finance-nerds being forced to sell bonds and insurances, that’s IBS for you and I wouldn’t like rubbing salt on the wounds of the 60 from the HR department, given that I’m still jobless! J

I’d need a supercomputer to calculate the number of times each and every member of this batch cursed the college and still had a lump in the throat and a teardrop waiting to fall off when we left this crazy place called IBS.. Here’s to you.. MWAAAH!!!

SPECIAL MENTION for all my Friends in IBS- ANUJ Arora, Vaibhav, Digvijay Gaur, Akshay Bhasin, Nitisha, Vidhi, Prerna, Shruti, Manvi, Gagan, Soni, G, Nilu, Shivi, Rhea, Priya, Adtya, Sheenam, Chandni, Bhavna, Swati, Pooja, Khushboo Luthra, KK, Amit, Aman, Rajesh, Karan Vir Chandok, Harshad, Jyoti Kochi, Aditya GHai, Manu Ghai, Akshay Khanna, Megha, Angad, Doctor, Uttama, Garima, Tanvi, Aditya Vir, Aniket, Vinayak, LAKSHMI, RIcha, Arleen, Deepankar, Deepika, Deepti, GO n ADi, Gulnar, Raunak, Kushal, Monisha, ROhan, Saumya, Silky, Spardha, Smriti!

Love U all!

Jumping Jack Vacuum Head

Begin Reading this Piece Only after knowing that This was Written out of sickening boredom and ONLY if you're genuinely interested in tasting my words all over again Should You attempt this Inglorious Venture!!!

I really do want to pen down something this time that I sit down. Has been a while since my jarred and jammed mind, ever observant, ever critical and ever mesmerized, melted everything into words for me to re-read it so many times that it literally gets published onto my brain. My eyes have become a continuous assessor of everything around me(( well so is everyone else's )), but let me explain you how.

Well, being endowed with a gifted imagination is one thing, but it's crazy when it runs totally haywire and at times I wish my mind had two hands which could grab hold of these bubbles of thought running amuck (( chuckles in head )). Every-time I read a book or attend a lecture, look at mannequins with unkempt hair and twisted hands, or just stare into empty space (which I think has become a national past-time for men today), I visualize everything staring at me with those piercing eyes, like a psychiatrist at his patient, looking for signs of life and wonder. And I stare back, getting lost for moments together as I try to figure out what they maybe saying.

Even though I've been scribbling for quite sometime now, I still keep wondering as to how would the REAL writers, authors and poet might think!? HOW would THEY visualize reality and give them animated and incredible words that would awe and inspire their readers to travel from one word to the next. A concocted reality, a story that millions would relive in their wide-eyed dreams, just like I do. A restless being who often boards this ship to the flights of fancy, discovers new worlds in the smiles and tears of an unknown face and imagines how it would be to be that being. I am someone you would happily fall in love with and still wonder why I suddenly dropped out your life, only to be happily rediscovered again. As again now that You realize that I'm ranting about stuff that is completely unrelated to my earlier babble. Sometimes I find myself looking up at the ceiling or the sky and thoughts that rush to my head might be totally tangential to what I might be doing at the moment. A certified victim of day-dreaming, who enjoys every bit of the insanity that he spirals into. I once read somewhere, There is a pleasure in being Mad, something that only Madmen know of. I'm sure all of you know why I said this Now! :)

Cheers to Boredom

THE ANGRY BABOON

My infactuation with trouble! God has a way of making my life surprisingly exciting, ridiculously dull and terrifically inconvenient, all at the same time. Huffing and puffing my way towards a lecture which I despise as much as I despise the chessboard clothes of this pot-bellied dictator. The huge-ass professor, part-demented, part-genius, completely obnoxious. Two completely different yet very probable thoughts strike my restless neurons, either the man will chew away the microphone like a juicy sugarcane or will use it as a blunt weapon against my head… any moment now! MBA isn’t difficult, rather its times likes these when I have to clip my eyelashes to the forehead just to remain awake. This is what makes it feel like a bicycle-ride without a seat on. My ass is always on the line. Mathematics being my ‘favouritest’ subject in the whole wide world (the pun definitely intended), it adds to the deadly attraction, resembling what I felt in my younger days when I aimed at poking my finger in the electric socket. Post-lunch is never a good time to do absolutely anything but 4 hours with this Lord Voldermort reincarnation makes the session seem like a pleasant walk through the countryside. Anything that requires effort has been hugely undervalued in my life and therefore straining my delicate eardrums to listen to what I don’t even understand seems as much taxing as laughing at his non-sensical and dry jokes and cynicisms. I restrain myself from this undying desire to punch the nose off the man. He, who opens his mouth just enough for the words to struggle out of his non-existent throat and neck. And if it opened any further, he would increase the chances of getting blown up as a result of sucking up too much air! I wonder what a person like him would be if he wasn’t a professor. Maybe a comic side-kick in a b-grade Malayalam movie or a short-temepred stout constable in a remote police chowki in Uttar Pradesh! Like an old Saint Bernard, his bloodshot eyes are more of a musing than a threat as he ambles among the log-heads like a grim-reaper, waiting to pounce on anything that dares to move. His bark worse than his bite, they say! Hair jetting out of his ears like an extra pair of ugly wings of an even uglier dodo bird, which even the zoo would hesitate to have. Even though his body seems to comprise of various spare parts of funny looking animals, but the one ape he most resembles is surely the Baboon. Aah! Yes! The golden watch! More like a pimp accessory gone horribly wrong. I chuckle at the thought of him being a pimp, with a purple coloured hat with a peacock feather on top and a matching lustrous satin coat. His ‘associates’ would be hounded to death by his ‘calm and soothing’ demeanour. A smile as fresh as the molten lava guzzing out of an active volcano that has an undercurrent of warning stating “Smile with me or……!” He stumbles and rolls his way towards the white board and every time I anticipate him bumping ‘head and belly’ first into the board, to my great disappointment, he stops just in time to pierce the surface with the marker. It might require a couple of rhino tranquilizer shots to bring this stubborn ass down. Any contributions for the same are more than welcome!