CRAZY FOR MBA
CRAZY FOR MBA
In the dismal and distant summers of 1981 when I visited my cousin she gave me to understand that her dear hubby wanted to see me urgently before I left for Delhi. She did not however divulge the reason for the rendezvous. I was urged to wait for them next evening at my residence. Next day I cut short my engagements and reached home earlier. My brother in-law, along with his wife, was waiting for me. He was kind of antsy, fidgeting and virtually on pins and needles. As we finished with a cup of tea and some family gossip, he simply could not control himself. He looked at his wife and vomited. ‘I’m joining MBA in Delhi University’. ‘MBA… you mean, you have been selected in the FMS Delhi! Wonderful! Congratulations sir!’ I quipped. ‘No, no, it’s not like that; I mean…I want to seek admission in the MBA program in the university this year.’ ‘Oh! You mean you are still applying! But that would require you to appear in the competitive test, GD and personal interview.’ My elder brother, sitting beside me reacted with astonishment and awe. ‘Yes, yes, why? I know, I will do it?’ my brother in’ law virtually jumped at my brother’s throat.
‘Why not, Yes… I …I know you can do it…but…’ I intervened to come to my brother’s rescue. ‘But what?’ he yelled. ‘Do you think it is appropriate to try for it at this age? You have grown up kids. Besides, do not you think your family needs you around?’
We’re at a loss to understand what our forty something brother in-law was up to. The poor fellow with three daughters and a college going son worked in the accounts department as senior accountant. He was credited with a half a dozen flashy post graduations (in English, Urdu, Kashmiri, education, law) acquired largely through correspondence/distance education programs. Of late he writes ‘Dr.’ before his name. He claims to have authored about a dozen books in Urdu, many of which are mere translation of English authors (susceptible to be tried for plagiarism). He is quite fond of being called (remembered) as ‘writer’.
‘That is not your problem. I know what to do. My family supports me. They know I’ m doing it for their welfare. Wife can very well take care of her children. After my MBA their life will be full of piss and vinegar.’ He told me with some diffidence.
‘Yes it certainly will, but do you know it is not quite easy to get admission in FMS’. ‘I know. But then I don’t think you know that I qualified engineering in IIT after completion of my FA, but could not pursue it because my mother could not bear my separation. And then after my graduation I qualified IAS too. Once again I could not go for it because my mother did not want me to join the far fledged highly sensitive Nagaland cadre.’ I felt rambled by his braggadocio.
In my frenzy to throw cold water on his attempts to pat himself on the back and utter high sounding pompous tall talks I soon realized that the swell head felt kind of affronted. ‘It is strange you are hell-bent to discourage me and dampen my spirits. I know you do not perhaps want another MBA in your family. Now come on, tell me, will you get me the prospectus and application form or not, or else I get it from other sources.’
‘No…I never meant it that way…I will definitely get the prospectus for you, do not worry.’ I said quite humbly, looking at my cousin who was aghast at the scene and the theatrics thereof. I felt quite bad for her. But then I was sure as hell, that our over zealot brother in-law shall soon realize that it’s not quite easy to crack the written test for MBA in FMS. However I was ready for another volley of mindboggling questions from my brother in-law.
‘You being yourself an MBA tell me what is there in MBA which you think I can’t go for. Tell me the subjects that are offered in the program are?’ he quizzed.
As if caught on wrong foot I could not retrieve the couple of dozen subjects/papers taught during the 2 years MBA program. However as retrieval did not take much time I bounced back with the name ‘personnel management’. ‘Personal management!’ he interrupted.’ you mean managing your own personality, your dress, your etiquettes, your behaviour, your personal belongings. Nothing more than common sense! What next?’
‘Behavioral sciences.’ I said. ‘Behavioral sciences! Must be, relating your behavior. Not a big thing but common sense. My department and bosses always praise me for my exemplary behavior with one and all. I’ve always received nice APRs from my superiors.’ He looked at his wife with a puff of air. ‘What next?’ I tried to call to mind the subject which was unfamiliar to and largely unheard of and could probably silence this Nature’s sole mistake. ‘Management Accounting.’ ‘Oh, you mean management of accounting, debit credit, journal, ledger, profit and loss, balance sheet etc. This is really my métier. I passed accounting papers with flying colors in my state accounting training examination.’ He looked at my brother with pride.
I was weary of his bragging and wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible. I was happy to locate the subject that perhaps could unnerve him and call his bluff.
‘EDP’ I flung suddenly with wild excitement.
‘EDP!’ what is that? He queried with awe and sheepish looks.
‘Electronic Data Processing.’
Haven’t you heard of it? It is what computer is all about.’
‘Come on, you scared me. You talk of computer. I use one for years together now. In fact it’s always there in my pocket. I bought it in Karol Bag, Delhi last year for Rs. 150. It helps me a lot in doing additions subtractions. You know I have always had problem in math.’