It's that time of the year when utterly important (life-altering) decisions are to be made. All former sophomores are running around asking for precious advice from seniors and exploring future career prospects. And here I am, in this pandemonium of sorts - (wondering if I choose to savour the powers of the Indian bureaucracy, or scribble away documents in my air-conditioned chambers, or work my way up amongst moguls craving for the largest pie in the market) - waiting for the moment when The Almighty whispers into my head and voila ! I suddenly know what I'm destined for.
I know nothing of that kind is ever going to happen and I need to make the call sooner than later. But then there's so much more to be done! For instance, there's footie (I'm sure I'll become a pro within a few months time...one more thing to add to my resume), badminton, the gazette, bakar and chapos, more of my special multifarious theories, projects and then the secondary CGPA issue. Add to that humour and entertainment that are crucial for human survival within today's gloomy environs that engulf a B.Tech 3rd year undergraduate. If there was a way that could take care of our career obligations and at the same time not give up on the aforementioned "essentials" of life, there wouldn't be a happier person in the whole universe (provided that the Martians do not have to fulfill such material responsibilities already).
Professionals in test-taking-strategies (read CL and TIME) are sweating it out to lure potential "managers" with assurances to each who enrolls, of a berth in one of the prestigious IIM's (I still can't empathise why these "brilliant minds" never ended up where we're supposedly being sent to). To begin with, they quote formidable statistics that might make the listener dizzy with ambition, which crashes to below sea level when the final number is revealed - "You see; we expected atleast 40 to make it out of a batch of 45, but unfortunately, owing to discrepancies in the sub-standard question paper, only 14 could - between two batches, of whom 10 were our classroom students and the others bestowed upon us the privilege of mentioning their names wherever we'd like to". For the past few days, I've been receiving calls from one such CAT-specialist telling me all about the lecture schedule; the poor guy would be elated to know I'm publicising his institution in this very post without actually intending to become a part of it.
The "dreamers" are doing everything to ascertain nothing gets in the way of them reaching their final destination. While some aren't so conspicuous about their clandestine trips outside the campus gate every evening, others are bubbling with enthusiasm over having started early enough to commence the race from pole position. Its an altogether different world - obviously dissimilar from a few months back - scrawling notes all day long, no dawdling, no respite from voices reciting principles and theorems, devoid of sleep and lacking peace.
I've not started dreaming yet. It's only dusk; night is hours away. Let chasers pursue the snitch even before Quidditch begins; a good seeker will win it eventually in due time. Meanwhile I'll just enjoy reading as the mystery unfolds for "A Prisoner of Birth" and watch my favorite sitcoms before I retire to bed. Dawn will bring me inspiration and divine guidance to embark on my endeavours. I cannot let the strands of complacency bind me, but then, they never can.
