More Frust & Sunken

Before you proceed, please follow the following instructions.....

1) Read my earlier post Frust & Sunken

2) If you are planning to disobey, I request you not to. So please, read Frust & Sunken

3) For God's sake just read Frust & Sunken, will ya!

Ok... It goes like this. I finish loading Frust & Sunken on the blog and settle down for a cup of tea at the dhaba (roadside eatery) outside the main gate of the college, while Chinki settled for a smoke of Kings. By now I had come to realize that there was no use of being frustrated. Hence I was barely bothered now. I mean, come to think of it, why was I getting frustrated? Did I badly need the job? Well... Er... I didn't know. The ppt was cool and so was the profile of the company. But was I prepared to get the job? A BIG NO in capitals. Neither was I prepared for a written test nor dressed right to look presentable, if not decent. Barring the grey John Miller shirt, the black Allen Solly trousers and a black glossy tie, I was the exact antonym of civilized. I've seen my buddies coat their faces with the rich lather of Gillette and use Gillette Mach3 on their facial epidermal layers to remove the growth of dead keratin, in other words, they never compromised on shaving before they sat for the company. If they needed shaving, I needed sheering, thanks to the latest fascination for a beard that I had developed recently, a la Bin Laden style. So was I going to do something about it? HELL NO! I'm not going to budge to such superficial temptations. If they throw me out on the pretext of having a beard, then to hell with them, I thought.

Just then, Shanky gives me a call. "Hey Alfi! Rush to DOMS! You've been selected for the GD. All the best man! You can do it!"

"Hey! How many short listed? And how many PGs and UGs?" "11. 4 UGs and 7 PGs. But don't worry! You are a league apart!"

WHAT?? 4 UGs ONLY? Man! I was going to the dumps. First of all, of the 53 who sat, only 11 short listed. Which itself was so depressing. And of that, there are 7 PGs and I could swear on my dead body that they would be MBAs. And the company I'm sitting for? A Growth Partnership consultancy firm. I knew I had no chance at all. Then why this toiling ordeal of a GD and that too, with the MBA honchos? Certainly, the cosmos was not in my favor at all.

The groups were divided. I was put in a group with 2 more UGs, but 3 other MBAs. I was in jitters. But certainly I was too fortunate compared to that poor soul in the other batch who was beaten black blue (metaphorically though) by his post graduate colleagues. I certainly had something to be consoled about.

GDs are nothing short of a fish market. It’s noisy, dirty and certainly stinky. People simply pounce on each other, cutting one another in arguments and trying vehemently to dominate. There are two kinds of people in a GD, one who spends his or her time blabbering away to glory, without giving anyone a chance, even if they have no idea about the topic. The other, the more harmless of the lot, simply has no choice but sit there, hoping to raise some voice to be heard. To which group did I belong? I didn't know myself.

The war began inside the air conditioned room, where the valiant knights and one she-knight sat around a rectangular table, with the HR Manager from the company sitting at the head. The topic- "Success Is All About Human Relations". I could see the gleam in the eyes of the MBA guys. They were the happiest lot. And here I was, the wannabe techy sitting in a room with management written all over, and 3 men waiting for the green signal.

From the word GO, the MBAs pounced and were battling with each other. They were speaking at around 200 words per 10 seconds and churning out management terms and statistics. I chipped in a few points about Personnel Management and the likes. I really had no idea what I was going on blabbering. All I knew was that my tongue was wagging and the MBAs were looking at me in approval while the UGs were looking pitiable. I was feeling pitiable too since I felt things slipping away from my hand. In the end they asked me to summarize. That was the last thing I wanted to do. As it is I felt a dire need of words when I spoke and all the while my mouth went dry and my feet trembled. I was in amazing heights of self confidence, the difference being, the Mariana Trench being the reference level. And they ask me to summarize. So I began... Blah blah blah...

"And to conclude, may I quote Mario Puzo from his bestseller, The Godfather. A successful man keeps his friends close, but his enemies closer."

I had no idea whether that was relevant to the situation or not. It just came to my mind in an instant and I before I knew, I had blurted it out. I stopped for an instant and looked around for a second, only to find all the candidates looking at me with their mouths open and the company fellows staring at me. Now I did not know what those looks meant, for my second language in school was Hindi till my 8th and French from 8th to 10th. It was pin drop silence and in these situations, a serene atmosphere was the most hated thing for me. I had to break this deafening silence so I mustered courage to say, "That’s all. Thank you."

Once we were out of the hall, the dudes and the gal came thronged around me pouring condescending remarks. I for sure was certain that they were referring to some other guy. But strangely and painfully, the other guy happened to be, yours truly. This activity was interrupted by the announcement of the short listed candidates. The moment the company guy X came out to announce, I picked up my folder and started walking towards the stairs to go down and hence out of DOMS. He announced,” A, B and Alfi! Please stay back and the rest can go." ALFI?? Very familiar name. Sounded like me. Had to be me. I asked the rep in charge, "Did he call out my name?" "Yes you dodo!"

Well, I was game now. This meant a round of interview. 5 candidates were short listed now for this round. It was a strange math for me. From 53 to 11 to 5. However, all I knew was that I was the third one to get butchered by questions. And from the looks of A who came out of the interview room, I was sure that I was going to be dead. I eavesdropped on him when he was explaining what happened inside the hall to his buddies.

"Man! The guy was asking about market forces and drivers and forecasters and shit! I'm screwed dude! I've been f***ed inside out!"

"So whaddya think? In or Out?"

"I've got no idea!"

I was a damned soul. I knew I was not going to get this but still I was going to go through all the drama. One of those instances in life when you see fire in front of you and an avalanche behind you. You want to run, but you simply have no idea where to or how to. Fire is too hot and the avalanche too dangerous. Though, it’s difficult to say, what exactly was the fire and the avalanche in the present situation that we are seeing right now.

"Alfi! Alfi Ashraf! Please come in"

And I entered the hall... Uncertain, unwilling, frustrated, afraid, excited and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Handshakes were exchanged. I took extra efforts to maintain eye contact and talk with an air of confidence. Started with my interests and hobbies, to why I was interested in this profile after coming from a technical background. And lots and lots of questions. I answered most, or let us say I blabbered. For each question, my mind was trying to search for the right answer but my tongue was wagging away to glory. I, for a moment thought I was stuck in the interface of transition with my alter ego. I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was that they were asking questions and I was answering them, or trying to.

At the end of the ordeal they X and Y look tell me this, "We are happy with you. But you talk too much technical (eh? My profs!! Are you reading this?). You will be put to a telephonic interview with our operations director who is on a tour write now. Please be more focused while talking to him."

Ok. Now that was a lot of advice. "Do you have any questions Alfi?" Y asked me. "Yes sir, I do" I said instantly. And then my mind goes blank. I was trying to think what question I should ask. They looked at me with surprise. And I was still groping for, for a change, questions.

"You are an interesting man. People have troubles thinking for answers. You have troubles in thinking for questions," said X with an undoubted tone of sarcasm. He was very very right. I've been talking non stop for quite sometime without thinking twice for the answers. But now when I get a chance, rather when I demanded a chance to question, I make a fool of myself by thinking of questions. I was, truly, an interesting man.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything to ask, sir." I realized that that was the first time that I addressed them as "Sir". Interesting. I was on a roll.

I was outside and talking to Vinod, who had come to give me moral support, unfortunately, he was a little late. I had been already drained of morals after a half an 40 minutes of interview. However, that didn't deter me from sucking more mental peace from me when X and Y came out of the hall to announce 3 names. "P, R and Alfi have been selected from the interviews! But they have to attend a telephony interview tomorrow."

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. To attend yet another round of jugalbandi was not my piece of cake. And right now the statistics looked like this, 53 to 11 to 5 to 3. And of the 3, apart from me, there were two MBAs. But given a choice of fire and avalanche, do I have a choice?

Got back to room. Answered a million calls asking about what happened. I cursed those who spread the word. I hate being like an audio cassette, playing the same thing again and again to people. At the end of the day, I was simply, More Frust & Sunken.

The interview over the phone finally happened the next day and after 40 minutes of the interview, they announced, yet again, finally, the final list of people who got placed, i.e., people who finally have been selected to join the company.

I wasn't really affected by the announcement. I mean, I really didn't feel anything. I was neither sad before sitting for the company, nor very different after the result. It was just the entire process that was taxing. And finally, when you know that everything was over, you feel peaceful. No more taxing stretches of mental stress. Different matter whether you got the job or not.

I'm just back from a trip to Pondicherry. I knew I wanted a break from all this. I wanted to chill out, experience some sand and salty water. I was thoroughly drained after a day and half’s adventure; the outcome did not affect what toll it took from me. I needed this. And trust me Pondicherry was beautiful.

And now I'm happy to be myself again. Not some disguised figure in front of a panel of people, trying to impress them.

PS: Before I forget, of the two who got the job, one was P, an MBA and the other, well, Alfi Ashraf, UG final year Instrumentation And Control Engineering, who happens to be, yours truly. And by the way, I had the shabby beard throughout the interview. Got it modified to a frenchie after they announced the result. Left for Pondicherry straight from the saloon.

PS: I forgot again. And the company? Frost & Sullivan

Frust & Sunken

The mobile cried out loud at 6:30 am, breaking my sojourn in the dreamland, thanks to snoozing at 4:30am after finishing The Memoirs Of Sherlock Holmes. All credit goes to my campus placement representative, who like every other placement rep, has only one motto- get all his batchmates placed as soon as possible and hit the 100% mark.

I don't find anything wrong with his aspirations, as long as he doesn't bother me with them. True, I am a thorn in the way since I was the only registered candidate in my department who took a bare minimum interest in getting placed with an MNC, Indian or alien, country of domicile no bar. That was evident in my track record; sat for just one company for which I was scantily prepared, when my peers have slogged for every company that steps into the campus. And let me tell you, we have every other day companies coming to recruit the young wannabe techies who hold the future of India; not to mention, that includes me too.

"Alfi! So you are sitting right? The ppt (read as pre placement talk) is at 8:30 in the Octagon conference hall! Is your folder ready? Your CV, project report, training certificate, et al?" the eager Shanky enquired.

"Er... Shanky, are you sure I should sit? I mean, I'm not really prepared. Actually, I have a problem. My fault only. If I can fix it in time, then I'll sit." I assured him. Well, I did genuinely have a problem. All those prerequisites which he had enumerated were not with me. Er.. to be more precise, I didn't have a copy of any of these, the most crucial being the CV. And it was my own fault. Kudos to my lethargy. Well, actually, I'm a strict follower of the Just In Time algorithm, according to which, getting ready with your job before hand is a waste of leisure time. Take this case for example. Why should I walk all the way upto the Octagon, give the damned thing for print out and wait for it in the queue outside the printer room and get it? A certainly better option would be give it for printing and collect it when I come for the ppt. And here is the calculation- if the ppt starts at 8:30am, which is bound to get delayed since we follow the IST which stands for Indian Stretchable Time, it will end by 9:30am, and the printer room opens at 9:00am. Hence it is better to pick it up after the ppt, in effect.

"what's the problem? Tell me man!! I'll help you. If its something as petite as printing a CV, then just don't worry, come to the TP (read as Training and Placement department), we'll print it here. But please Alfi, do not let it this opportunity go!" pleaded my man. I felt I had to be responsible at least for this man, who has been thanklessly toiling to ensure that his batchmates have an assured future.

And here I am, after appearing for the written test, which consisted of 30minutes of General Aptitude and Psychometric Tests, followed by 45 minutes of an Essay and a Case Study, waiting for the results. If the written is cleared, there is an eliminative round of GD (read as Group Discussion) followed by personal interviews.

And let me confess, this wait for the results is so frustrating... Man tell me whether I'm in or whether I'm out! I wanna go home!