Of B-school & Breakfast
Now I don’t want to launch into a personal tale of what kind of breakfast I like most and what could the B-school (XLRI) offer and what eating habits you should develop if you want to survive management education. These are all great topics in themselves and perhaps I will do justice to them some other day. But today’s agenda is simple: I’m going to talk about the one big change in winter lifestyle I have had to undergo due to my shifting quarters from a premier engineering institute to a top-notch B-school.
Engineering (at IT-BHU) was fun! Winter in BHU is again a separate topic but life in winter always has one component that applies anywhere. You just want to remain tucked into your quilt and let the urgency of the morning wither into the laziness of the afternoon. Now what if I told you that it was possible (not always) during Engg?
I remember the days, the chill in the air, the supreme reluctance to step out of the room and into the freezing hostel lobby, the frozen dull sunshine that graced us rarely. I also remember the graded consistency of ‘leaving for class’ time of the whole branch. The on-timers would be decked up and walking urgently while the late risers might just be struggling with paste and brush. The comfortably late could be seen strolling towards the mess for breakfast, while others preferred running. There were others, the not-so-late who could be seen coming out of the mess hall and strolling lazily towards the department block, allowing the luxurious sunshine to warm them as they chatted. It was absolute calm sprinkled with an occasional very late who could be seen struggling with his old scooter, kicking and cursing profusely and looking around like a doe for help.
And whenever we entered the classroom, the taste of the breakfast used to be there on the lips. Smack!
Come B-school and there is a change! The old equations of on-timers, the comfortably late, the not-so-late and the very late are still functioning like Newton’s laws. The silent chaos still rules the roost in the Gents Hostel. The towel clad fellows still run while the clock warns of the last couple of minutes and is universally ignored. But the breakfast has lost out in the competition. The beloved breakfast is what takes the toll now. A couple of couple spoonfuls of porridge, a plastered or plain slice of bread, half a glass of steaming milk, half an omlette stuffed hastily; take your pick from among this sumptuous cuisine and that is breakfast. ‘The most important meal of the day is breakfast’, said a wise man. But while I was a wise man during engineering, I have become a fool during MBA.
And to put things in perspective, it is 3:32 am now and I am all set to miss tomorrow’s breakfast also!
Engineering (at IT-BHU) was fun! Winter in BHU is again a separate topic but life in winter always has one component that applies anywhere. You just want to remain tucked into your quilt and let the urgency of the morning wither into the laziness of the afternoon. Now what if I told you that it was possible (not always) during Engg?
I remember the days, the chill in the air, the supreme reluctance to step out of the room and into the freezing hostel lobby, the frozen dull sunshine that graced us rarely. I also remember the graded consistency of ‘leaving for class’ time of the whole branch. The on-timers would be decked up and walking urgently while the late risers might just be struggling with paste and brush. The comfortably late could be seen strolling towards the mess for breakfast, while others preferred running. There were others, the not-so-late who could be seen coming out of the mess hall and strolling lazily towards the department block, allowing the luxurious sunshine to warm them as they chatted. It was absolute calm sprinkled with an occasional very late who could be seen struggling with his old scooter, kicking and cursing profusely and looking around like a doe for help.
And whenever we entered the classroom, the taste of the breakfast used to be there on the lips. Smack!
Come B-school and there is a change! The old equations of on-timers, the comfortably late, the not-so-late and the very late are still functioning like Newton’s laws. The silent chaos still rules the roost in the Gents Hostel. The towel clad fellows still run while the clock warns of the last couple of minutes and is universally ignored. But the breakfast has lost out in the competition. The beloved breakfast is what takes the toll now. A couple of couple spoonfuls of porridge, a plastered or plain slice of bread, half a glass of steaming milk, half an omlette stuffed hastily; take your pick from among this sumptuous cuisine and that is breakfast. ‘The most important meal of the day is breakfast’, said a wise man. But while I was a wise man during engineering, I have become a fool during MBA.
And to put things in perspective, it is 3:32 am now and I am all set to miss tomorrow’s breakfast also!
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