embeeyay-schmembeeyay

Should I do my MBA in the US?

This is a question that quite a few people will be looking at right about now. This question will get really important for those who have already written the "CAT" one of the most erratic exams possible, and undergone the IIMs' strange application process and come out without the elusive admit. The first time I wrote the CAT was in my final year of Engineering. We took a train ride to Calicut as there was no center at Surathkal, and scored some kickass 'green' after successfully making the auto guy understand what it was that we were looking for.

I woke up the next day, smoked 2 blunts because the one I had made for a friend was refused by said 'friend' and took the auto ride to the center with a pen instead of a pencil, I had never seen the paper nor had I known how many sections it carried.

I scored a 97.7 percentile.

ha! and my classmates who are now working for McKinsey & Co after graduating from IIMB had studied for 2 whole years and scored somewhere in the 98 percentile range.

Anyway, I was disgusted after a few more attempts where I did poorly in the ENGLISH section *facepalm* and decided to write the GMAT where I scored 760 ;D

Now coming to the question I have asked and which is why you might have landed on my blog in the first place.

Should you do your MBA in the US paying so much money, and raking up so many loans?

NO.

Here is why:

Now you might say that I have vested interests in saying that, after all, i am here already and I would like fewer people to get here to compete for jobs. I could. But you'll just have to believe me, right?

I met a senior of mine a few days ago, he had graduated in May 2009, a bad time I agree, and he left back to India. He was generally frustrated at the way things had turned out for him. A near perfect GPA and with consulting experience and still no job. But he was lucky, he had a GA and was from a very rich family, so he could afford to go back, but I know other Indians who are working for free because they can't go back with the kinds of loans that they have. They are still struggling, a fact I see when I find then loitering around the campus in desperate need of a job.

it is very frustrating when all these companies state that they are equal opportunity employers and then state that they do not hire international students. You might think it is not that big a deal but it kinda hurts and then I suddenly realize how people subjected to racism might have felt.

There seems to be a sort of Anti-India sentiment that is brewing up within the general American populace, they won't say it out loud and in fact I have some extremely friendly and caring American classmates, but in general, they resent us coming here and 'taking' their jobs away.

The MBA is a strange degree, you learn so much in so little time that you have hardly the scope to understand what it is that you are learning. Employers recruit them not because of what they have learnt but because being selected by the schools and completing the course implies intelligence and hence employability. In this economy however, they don't want to experiment and are taking only those people who already have experience in the field that they are looking for. Which means that the MBA which is traditionally a career switching degree, has now become useless.

With the drop in jobs this time the H1B visa quota might have gone unfilled, but the cap is still way too low. The American people under Obama, who is ironically more conservative that the republicans in this issue, seem to have forgotten what it is about this country that makes it so great; its willingness to accept any one from anywhere and the opportunities it provides them to achieve their goals and benefit everyone else. But with the populist decisions that Mr. change is making, I really don't know if it will not come around and bite them in the ass somewhere later down the line. Limiting the flow of talent from other countries to your's is not a good thing. Do they not know this?

I have a lot more to say, but I do not have the time. So unless you have a huge scholarship or a GA do not come to the US, or else you will be left second guessing yourself everyday, like I do. And for that apply early. The guys who have GAs in my class have fewer years experience, and lesser grades and scores in the GMAT than I do, the reason they were selected was because they applied in the first round and I in the third. Do not delay.

If you come from a poor family, write the CAT again and again until you get the seat. I will be getting back to India with an EMI of about 70k per month, how do I plan on repaying this? I have no clue and it scares me.

Now, don't get me wrong again, I like this country a lot, but I feel that they are losing their way and I don't want that to happen.


The sign, for foreigner, on the door to america

VLOG#1

Hey guys, here is my forst vlog. I hate that word. The video sucks. An MBA is a useless degree. Have fun.

JD

you guys know John Denver... Yeah yeah, country roads and all that patriotic humbug. The first time I heard that song was in school in Saudi Arabia. And I would try to imagine what West Virginia looks like because here was a man obviously awestruck by his state [which was located so far away it could as well be on a different planet] This was weird because from my experience, my state be it either Karnataka or AP was quite pale in comparison. We had no awesomely named mountains or rivers with catchy names.

Speaking of rivers; If you go further down the lyrics, you get to a point where he speaks about the 'Shenandoah River' remember???

Well... I swam in it yesterday.

life is strange isn't it?

I like choppers

So I hear Y S Rajashekhar Reddy is dead. Died in a mangled mess of burnt flesh and disfigured body parts. Good riddance to bad rubbish, cause we all know that every time a politician dies, the world becomes a better place. I can't understand why the state should go into mourning for 7 days? Fuck YSR and fuck every self appointed 'public servant' there is. I hear that the entertainment channels on TV have been banned for a week. This is fascist nonsense, who is the government to tell me what I can do and what I cant do? Here's to hoping that this trend continues and a few more of these leeches get wiped out by providence.

not goodbye.

Hmmm...

I guess that time has come to face the truth, I will probably be too busy in at least the first semester to write any interesting blog posts, because they take time and time is at a premium these days.

I do however promise to get back as soon as I find free time. This should happen in about 3 months time. Until then... take care, and "I'll be back" *in a thick Austrian accent*

Esque toi avec moi?

This post is dedicated to Ashwinxn who poured a metaphorical bucket of cold water on me.


What I thought I would look like as soon as I got out of the airport.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that I had absolutely no culture shock when I got here. Absolutely no part of the society here surprises me. In fact the only thing that is strange here is that the sun sets at about 9pm screwing up my internal clock, the sun sets and a few hours later I feel like the day is young and bam! the clock says that the time is 11PM.


what I actually looked like. The change in my complexion, observed here, was due to the searing DC sun.

I am supposed to finish these two online courses that count toward my grades and I am the only guy in the class who hasn't started either of them[Oh wait, apparently a chick from Taiwan has not started either but come on... Taiwan?]. I live in a community filled with Indians, and believe me it is not fun. I find that the they are the least friendly people here. I don't mean to dis Indians but seriously, they have no social presence and hence are quite unpopular. I don't blame the Americans.

I lost my passport, degree scrolls, admit letters, I20 the minute I landed at IAD Dulles. But I got it back the next day. Man, the first day was crazy! running around the airport searching for the documents. The next day I saw MD, VA, DC and PA. Phew, tiring.

You would have noticed that this post is quite plain vanilla in its styling, but this is because I don't really have time to write more interesting stuff. I do promise that I will not entirely stop writing. I might write 1-2 articles per month at the least.

I feel lost without my guitars and plan on buying a cheap acoustic soon. A classmate of mine has an Ovation, and I plan on checking it out soon. And man, there are no single women in the US. The good thing is that I can use pandora here, especially valuable since last.fm just flushed itself into a toilet.

Anyway, I shall write a good post as soon as I can.

V

you-essay

Well, I am here. More to come later.

Mars is non-vegetarian???

Send your name to mars...
well, on a microchip at least.
Or not. Like for instance if you are NOT a geek, sadly I am one, so I have already sent mine, yay!!!. here.

And my god, Canada, freaking canada with its mounties and the baldwins has just overtaken India in the number of names sent, wtf??? lrn2win India!

ay-low

Hello everyone.

I am dealing with complex emotions right now, and I am finding it tough to write. I will complete my 'report' of my trip to Delhi soon. I am sorry to keep you waiting. And when I say 'everyone', I mean Ritesh, and the two other people who read my blog [if you include me as I indulge in a narcissistic gloating of my own writing]

Until then...

Visa part 2

So, where was I? Ah yes, I believe I was trying to show you how hard it is being me. Continuing from where I left off; So I am in the aircraft and I can see that this is not going to be the normal kind of flight, the people in this flight are mostly first time fliers or something, because every aspect of the plane seems to be fascinating them. Ever seen 60 year old grandmas with stained and or missing front teeth, going gaga-googoo over the scenery outside the window? all while standing in their aisle seats during takeoff? it is not a pretty sight folks. And for some reason, they all have shaved heads. Paranoia kicks in, what if these are the adherents of some obscure sex cult... what if they decide to release Sarin in the flight? or have an orgy, holy sweet mother of god, I think I would prefer that the plane just crash on its own.

I am sure there is no way they could have detected this sort of a plan, not in a country like India at least. And what do you know... the air hostess who was rude to me, is now struggling to make them remain seated. I am sitting in the last row, which according to my crazy crash phobic mind is the safest row in the aircraft. As soon as the pilot switches off the seat belt sign, fourteen, yeah you heard it right 14 of these middle aged, men and women, none of whom, save one, knows English, come to the back of the plane and make a line to use the loo. Now either their body functions are in sync, or they all couldn't wait to see what happens when you piss in an aircraft, does it fall down, hurtling through space striking random unfortunate old ladies [yeah, yeah, you must all have seen it, that image of a lady impaled by a yellow 'stick' purportedly frozen urine from an aircraft] just like our good old railways does it. Their motto: "Out of sight; Out of mind." Probably.



One gentleman looking especially lost, calls the air hostess. And then proceeds to ask her when the plane would land at Santa Cruz. And of the 40 or so people who heard it, I was the only one who burst out laughing. What is this? do we Indians lack a sense of humor? How the hell does one board the wrong plane? She then dutifully explains that the plane is in fact going to Delhi and not Bombay.

2 and a half Hours and many circles of Delhi later, our plane gets clearance to land on the new runway that opened recently, it is one of the longest in Asia, but do we have any cause for cheers? No! because it takes the plane another 15 minutes to reach the terminal from there. Now imagine this. The plane is taxiing, and its a bumpy ride, there are turns that need to be executed, and my awesome co-passengers are celebrating their return to hallowed Terra-firma by disregarding all safety procedures, one is trying to open the overhead compartment, endangering the heads of the passengers below, he gets a firm scolding and retreats amidst our laughter, all of them are calling up their homes to inform them that the plane has landed. Another line is forming for the the last chance at going to the 'plane toilet.'

Boy am I glad to be back on ground, ah, Delhi is a relaxing 35 DEGREES CELSIUS!!! in the middle of the monsoon. They open the aircraft door and hot air starts rushing in, trying to impress its dominance upon us mere mortals. What the hell am I doing here? I haven't been to Delhi in 14 years and I feel like I am a foreigner the minute I step out of the airport. To be continued...

Visa Part 1

I was about to write a shortened version, knowing that no one would read an article 4 pages long, but I was convinced by a reader to do so anyway.

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So the date is 9th July, the day after my birthday, and as usual, I have had a little too much to drink the previous night; as I needed to wake up early for my flight to New Delhi. I wake up with a hangover, and I haven't packed. The pessimism that is a constant companion of mine is killing my spirits. It is like that little stray dog that you fed a little bread out of pity and now it keeps following you around wherever you go. Thoughts such as: What if I don't get the freaking Visa? Would it not be an utter waste of time and money? And then there is the probability that my plane will crash. What if my original documents get stolen? What if terrorists attack the consulate just when I enter? and so on...

That I am now afraid to fly is funny because I have been flying since I was five. That first time, I traveled alone. And I must have traveled on not less than a few hundred flights till now, and at this age; I develop a fear of flying? Too much time spent on wikipedia is the cause for this nuisance. I basically know every possible way by which a plane can plummet to a fiery, meat ginding doom.

You know what would be even worse? me getting the Visa and THEN my return flight crashing, now that would be unfortunate, no?
Anyway, I have to fly to Delhi for the freaking interview. DELHI!!!? It's like flying to another country man, different people, different geography, even the air smells a bit different there! This is what I keep telling the people that I meet. I disguise it as a joke, but in my mind, I really believe so.

I haven't pressed my cloths and I forget to take my toothbrush and my belt. I try pressing my shirt with the iron at home. But my sister has burnt something on it, and now the plastic-y substance is melting off and staining my shirt, my sister! she can spoil a diamond and render it worthless. Yep, it's a talent, alright. Okay, no time, got to go. I will have to find some dhobi in Delhi. I buy a pack of 20 Classic Milds on the way, and finish all but four by the time I am ready to board my flight. Hyderabad airport, luckily, has a smoking lounge. Here they have an ad in cyrillic, strangely. Why? I do not know.

I get onto my flight SG-234 which has arrived from Coimbatore, and there is a man sitting in my seat. I hate it when this happens and I am hoping that they haven't issued the same seat to the both of us. I need the window seat you see, being able to see the flaps, the engine, the ailerons, etc., alleviates my fear a little, and although it usually means that going to the loo is a cumbersome task, I don't mind the trouble. I ask him what his seat number is? Hurray! it is not the same as mine, he is on the wrong seat, the fool doesn't know how to understand the simple graphic that is drawn on the overhead compartment which helps you locate your seat number. You know what I am talking about, that little pictogram of three seats with numbers and a small window that allows you to know which is the aisle seat and which is the window seat. I use my index finger to point to the picture and the guy sitting in the middle swiftly agrees with me, and tells the guy to shift.

He refuses to budge, he doesn't understand English and this is obvious to me only now. I pretend to not know Hindi, it has helped me many times before and it works, he moves away, most probably not wanting to do anything with this weird bloody-Indian who doesn't know Hindi. I mean, seriously, what kind of an Indian does not know Hindi, right?

Now that he is gone, I open the overhead cabin to put my only piece of luggage in it, and it is full, it is the second last compartment, and the one NEXT to the compartment where they store the medical supplies and extra life vests. I tell the pretty Air-hostess that there is no space in there. She rudely answers saying that that is where the first aid kit is and that I cant keep any thing there. I want to ask her if that is why there is a huge sticker that says "First Aid Kit" in large Helvetica staring me in the face. But then I realize that I don't care enough to try and tell her. So I sit. And start praying to a god that I don't believe in. The ancient Aztec god of Air Disasters: Ahyahuancnuatl, I promise him that I will stop fapping if I reach safely, a promise soon broken. Okay, so I lie, there is no such Aztec god, but hey, if they can invent them out of smoke and water, so can I! The plane starts its takeoff, well the worst of my 'human' problems are over I think. Naively.


The Aztec god Ahyahuancnuatl, or his brother-in-law, I am not sure. And yep, I see his problem, his wing's fallen off!

My Spicejet flight uses a Boeing 737-900, not my favorite aircraft, I prefer the rival Airbus A-320. And to make things worse, my pilot is not very good. He uses the airbrake excessively and doesn't even land it well. And all the time I am thinking that its just about to go down any moment now. To be continued...

mucho much?

Hello iconoclastic denizens of the blogosphere, you children of the wind, left to your own devices by the vicissitudes of fate, you lucky pigs you, you; who have the time to read this drivel that spews forth from mine[sic]unholy keyboard, congrats! You have my seal of approval ;P

I must admit, I have been treating you guys very lightly, and as someone who believes that he writes for his readers, I have, undoubtedly, disrespected you. But nay say I not anymore, I promise to keep you guys updated from now onwards as all my worries are over, for the time being, at least.

The first order of business will be an article explaining this unnatural exuberance that I am unable to contain from spilling into this post. The truth is that I got my visa approved, and it was a breeze. The details of my encounter with the Visa Officer and my travails through Delhi will be duly elaborated upon in the post that I shall write as soon as I get back home to Hyderabad as you see I am currently at some internet place in Delhi, and the mood just is not right for writing my article.

To Hyderabad Ahoy!!!

cop out

written circa 2003

bye bye, MJ

Unconfirmed reports say that Michael Jackson MAY be dead.

I saw it first on /b/ and my first reaction, seeing as it was /b/, was; 'yep, it's shooped'

But, now I see the news story on CNN. I never liked him but the fucker is\was talented.

here is a story that says that he is dead!


update:: Now they say that he is in a coma.

Nope, now they say that he has died.

WTF!! America? lrn2news.