A day at IIMA*

The day starts at night. Almost everyday. I mean every night, that is. It started when Sneaky came one full minute late (as usual) for the marketing case of the Spam model and the shredded tuna fish. We are done with the fish case. But Sneaky is at sea. Still the OB reading needs to be done. And it's only two o' clock. The night is young.

In the next room, Guddi Singh is playing the same Dylan number for the nth time. “How many times must the same song play?” Sneaky wonders for the (n-1)th time. The frequency of dbabble notices is thinning out. Sneaky puts a stop to his fight and the learning experience.

Its morning. The snooze button is surely one of the greatest inventions by mankind. It gives Sneaky an option. Sneaky denies. Like a faithful friend the clock rings again. Sneaky keeps on denying till the time there’s no hope for the breakfast, puts a tener in the pocket and runs for class. To unlearn.

The attachment is not opening. And the whole class is waiting for his presentation on the Tuna Fish. The professor gives Sneaky an unnerving stare. Sneaky gathers enough courage to say that it was working fine in his room. Believe me, it was just working fine. Today is not his day.

At the last leg of the OB class Sneaky makes up his mind and raises his hand for a grand CP. But there are so many hands. And standing on the chair is not allowed. It is the fag end of the course and Sneaky has not made a single CP. There is emotional water in his eye.

But the worst was yet to come. In the OM class, Sneaky went to … to sleep. He was doing fine till the time the professor came and stood in front of him. The laughter woke Sneaky up. And the class had gone to the stage of thumping the tables. To top it all, a small piece of paper on the notice board, brought with it the option of skipping lunch. Today there’s a quiz. Sneaky will be tested. But he is not alone. From nooks and corners prospective I-schols are heading towards their dorms to learn OM, all skipping lunch. Sneaky is not alone.

The quiz is over. These are the times when Sneaky gets philosophical and thinks of writing poems and stuff. But the quiz performance has made him wordless. Words cling to the tip of his pen, refusing to drop down.
The canner can can
Anything others can can …
But couldn’t do kanban …

Sneaky keeps his words to himself. They are not obeying him today. Three o' clock, Sneaky goes to sleep, so that he can study ‘later’. Chaitime is at five at Rambhai’s. The tea is like ... like God. But what interests Sneaky is Rambhai’s working capital management. Sneaky gloats over the prospect of an IP on the subject.

The sun has gone down over the tower lawns. Clouds are covering clouds and there is darkness everywhere. At C.G. Road lovers are holding hands. At IIMA people are putting web CP on the Web-board. Sneaky puts in some words with a generous sprinkling of CRM, SCM and ERP. Nearby some dorm shouts le-lis, at an inviting tone. Sneaky knows his dorm is the target segment. What’s mankind without understanding? Event-management starts and with a baritone unheard of before, Sneaky leads the dorm to glory. The tenors are zigzagged.

In the mess, Harvard dinner is nearing the self-actualization stage. Today Sneaky had fruits, fruits and fruits.

Guddi Singh is playing “How many times...” for the (n+1)th time. And Sneaky wonders for the nth time.

Concentration came after lot of coaxing, after much trying. Almost immediately on the TV, the hero starts gyrating with his consort to the tune of a raunchy number and finance goes for a toss.

Its time for birthday bumps to Zaphod Beeblebrox. November isn’t that cold at Vastrapur. The Big Dipper hangs like a question mark in the anthracite sky. Sneaky stops for a while to figure out Betelgeuse. It is already one past midnight. As usual, Sneaky is late. And suddenly tomorrow has become today.


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* Footnotes are nests for pedants. Thus spake McCloskey. I made you look down, but this piece needs you to have a campus glossary. That's all. Written many moons ago.