With Introductions Over... Here is something from the Arsenal of Mr. Wordster. nJoi!
"A hostel in any engineering college. Sometime between late summer and early monsoon. The tension in the atmosphere is almost palpable. The air is saturated with humidity and anxiety. Every gust of wind is charged with rumours. It is the placement season.
The lanky boy next door with greasy hair and wearing spectacles of the size of portable television sets suddenly becomes a formidable competitor. Any lungi-clad guy with a book and a pen in his hand is no less intimidating than a gladiator carrying a shield and a sword. Preparations are done on war footing.
Interdepartmental rivalry corrupts simple minds. Everybody is intent on guarding the secret which everybody else already knows. Question papers are not allowed to leak, secret mock interviews are held and special groups of students (those who ‘know’) take up the responsibility of helping out those who ‘don’t know’.
Any person from any other department who smiles and tries to stimulate a friendly conversation is to be treated as a potential threat. He is ‘the spy’.
Conversations in vernaculars are peppered with phrases like quantitative aptitude (‘quants’), vocabulary ( ‘vocab’) and communication skills (no short form for this one). Bare bodied people waiting in a queue to take bath (which by the way is a biweekly ritual) try to converse in inglis. Snippets of this conversation filtering through to the person actually taking bath can lead to his cranial fracture caused by a fall which in turn is caused by uncontrollable laughter. It can be fatal. People occupying adjacent cubicles can be heard quizzing each other on freshly acquired vocabulary from the G.R.E. high frequency list.
The dining hall transforms into a conference hall for technical discussions. The clatter of utensils is punctuated by words such as diodes, gears, firewalls and other ingredients of intellectual chutney which kills the appetite. One has to contend with food for thought.
People who have been friends for almost three years can be seen introducing themselves to each other and discussing their hobbies (most of them very recently acquired) when they go out for a stroll or while sharing a fag.
This is a season when diseases like temporary insomnia and somnambulism become widespread. People can be seen walking in the corridors at unearthly hours practicing their ‘intro’ or mumbling answers to other expected HR questions which have been asked since Lord Ram recruited monkeys in his army.
On a cool morning, when groggy eyed people are zombie-marching to the tap with tooth brushes sticking out of their mouths like thermometers, the news arrives. After months of speculation (which began at the end of the previous year’s placement) the suspense is broken. The COMPANY is to arrive in five days time. The news spreads like a seismic wave jolting the students out of their beds and senses. People are caught in a turbulence of activities ranging from manipulating scores on their resumes to the procurement of ties to go with their formals. (However the ties go missing on the day and leads to the age old game of beg, borrow and steal.)
The preliminary tests are crucial. They aim at estimating the general awareness of the future employees of the COMPANY. To clear this all important test the candidates are required to go through every question that has been repeated with unflinching diligence for the past decade. People who have successfully feigned meticulousness and have been prudent enough not to get ‘over qualified’ are short listed for the interview.
The interview panel usually consists of two employees from the COMPANY. One of them grins incessantly. He is not retarded. It is only his way of making the candidate feel comfortable. The other member has his facial muscles contorted in a manner which beggars description. He is neither aggrieved by the loss of his cattle in the tsunami nor is he chronically constipated. He is only trying to stress the candidate out. Both put together provide a neutral environment for the interview.
Candidates wait for hours for their turn. By the time they are called in the starched shirts turn limp and damp. Faces which had been washed with soap for at least five times and plastered with Fair-n-Lovely for good measure now reflect the sorry state of a famished stomach. The candidate forces a painful smile. The interviewers are delighted.
The first question: Tell us something about yourself. This is easily answered. One and a half minutes flat. The interviewers are elated to find that the candidate is not dumb. They fire a volley of technical questions. The candidate does not know the answers to some. Some answers are on the tip of his tongue. But the tip has caged itself behind the incisors and refuses to budge. The throat turns dry. Palms perspire. A drop of sweat traces the length of his spine but he sits stiff. The first interviewer’s amiable grin now looks diabolic. Mount Rushmore fidgets with his pen. All is lost. No. Wait. Not yet.
The candidate is offered some water and a few words of encouragement. Realization dawns on his countenance. The interviewers again ask him questions to which he does not know the answers but answers confidently anyway. That is what matters. They encourage him to dole out theories which would make Sir Newton squirm in his grave. After making sure the candidate can ‘communicate what he is thinking’ he is allowed to go with the parting words,’ It was nice talking to you.’, or something on similar lines.
Then begins the agonizing wait for the results. A period where most people run the risk of chewing their nails to the very end and anxiety is not the only reason here. After what seems like forever the results are announced. Those who are placed grow an extra appendage called the cell phone for a few hours.
For those left behind swimming in uncertainty there are other leaky boats ready to take them on board."
---Wordster
Labels: Emotions, Humour, Life, Stupidity
