MBA 2004 – The Journey[1]

 

 

 

Flashback

 

You’d remember, 3 years back you overheard a colleague saying, “Mark my words. Once you get your MBA U're regarded as a special breed by this firm. And of course, unless your prior designation read ‘Corporate-Nun’, tan(a)gible benefits would have undeniable appeal on your future career prospects. Graduating from BA to MBA and then Dr, ickonomics will change dynamically.”

 

These words would drag you into a bog endlessly, Tortured by what could go awry and kill me rapidly. That’s when you decided to crush those doubts into rubble and finally made the move to slam dunc and trash the corporate protocol in style, bidding adieu to those wielding clout and power. You did not want to be nested in the same ergonomics from Jan to Dec, trapped in the min or max limits set by bureaucratic policies.

 

Though you are not the one to act in haste, (fan of the slow-and-steady approach to life), the transition in this case was fast, even by your own benchmarks. And voila! Before you knew it, you were in Cambridge, letting your bike hinder your normal speeds, the driving pleasures of your car lost into oblivion. You’ve adamantly braved the abrupt chenge in the UK weather, for long enough and even after all these months, the eficient movements of your pedaling can still not compete with the automotive capabilities around you. All you could’ve done, to vent out your initial frustrations, were to make snyde remarks and kurt responses to the passing vehicles for not being as environmentally friendly as you’ve been forced to be, while they go scottfree. While half-asleep, to be jarred from your slumber and thinking if the morning wake-up call is a bell or a fire alarm is no longer an issue.

 

The Class

 

So here we are almost nearing the end, ecuipped and armed with the latest tools of the trade, some of which span ostensible boundaries of logic. My understanding & clairety of business related aspects have undergone a sea chenge. VC terms such as ratchets adorn our vocabulary. (By the way, does I.T. still matter?) I bet you can canvass a product launch, without a sweat and look forward to a re-caliberated career. Of course you’d never bootleg einstein's equations or lord byron’s work for the rest of your life (after signing all those plagiarism statements before handing in assignments in the nick of time, fearing that the profs would mark us down for delays).

 

The last one year has been far from an open and schutt case. Did you ever have an inkling that you’d be surrounded by smart intelligent classmates from around the world with balanced Emotional and Intelligence kuoshents (well, almost), Aymericans (EQ/IQ comment probably still applies) and of course from Scottland (still not sure if that’s a separate country). ‘Am I smart enough to be in this class?’ I am ardently in awe of this group and it makes me think ‘Yes I'm on an excellent MBA programme (program?)’.

 

Though most members of the clAss have a very strong intuition, it is excessively backed by logic ultimately.[2]

 

Months of cracking mammoth case studies, now makes a Herculean task seem easy. Fortunately, unlike some friends from other b-schools, I never had to pop a sleeping pil as I needed, in order to avoid insomnia. That would point to an apaulling state of affairs.

 

After reading this far, if you haven't reached a state of furor yet, then please take a deep breath and continue reading.

 

Parties

 

What do tired MBAs do when their brain needs a fillip? Elementary my dear Watson! It wasn’t uncommon to see them displaying broken jive moves and setting fire to the dance flor especially on Wednesday (Salsa) nights, melting into the ethos, waltzing the night away to the sound of the band, arid and parched throats not withstanding. You’ve hoped to find someone to ask out, so U've listed all the hotspots in the city. Most would end up escaping to Graufton center or partying az hard as they could to the Club-audio, belting our tunes from pop to rap to metal, existential auditory bliss at its peak (Jennifer Lopez probably not a favourite with the DJs anymore). Its one of those moments that catches you praying to Christ, offering your soul for never letting this phase end.

 

 

Career

 

The career report for last year’s class has just been released and it is encouraging to read about the 80% surge in their salaries. Most students are highly ‘leveraged’ (financially) by now due to the massive loans and the bank balance has been wiped klean, thanks to a full year without pay. So frankly, the synthetically induced virginity of our bank inflows can evaporate now. You may have realized that robbing bikes can never be a sustainable full-time occupation, even in a city like Cambridge.

 

Your brain (and wallet) says you were made for serving the City and residual claims on the Hejj fund analyst positions (read, after the undergrads have had their fill). Ditto for Angel as well as VC funds. ‘Those who arbitraje, shall inherit the wealth’ seems to be your motto.

 

We still wait to hear the good news or bad noos, hinting at the possibility of rejections from employers (nothing to do with race, age or gender, presumably). Never could figure out how consulting firms judge a candidate’s fit in a 30 min case interview. It teaches you why U weigh the pros and cons before recommending anything. After becoming jacks-of-all-trades, you might be hoping to join the Hondas and the Suzukis of the world, where your new employers will look up to you as the wise bastion of hope with your prior skills and new qualifications.

 

 

In Conclusion

 

If elixirs of fame, fortune, happiness and joy attract and motivate you to compete with the Shahs of Persia and the Pharaohs of Egypt, I wish you good luck in your endeavours. But at the helm of your career, (say as u’r status changes from poor-student to rich entrepreneur), hou can you forget your link to humility. This principle applies even when you are working on your tan, cooking exotic dishes and sipping steaming cherry-tea.

 

These thoughts are a little premature and prenatal, I agree, as we still have a few more months before we complete the program, put those jayded books back onto the shelves and throw our graduation hats in the air with ecstacey letting the martini and champagne flow. Looking forward to return and hug our dear ones back home, where we belong. But, weiping the blood, sweat and tears away, (with a familiar Thai song playing in the backdrop and watching flemingos soar above me) as I lay down in grass, I ask myself, would I repeat this again if I could go back in time? And, in my undeniable zest, I think the answer is pretty obvious.

 

Regards,