Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of IIM C
When I began preparing to take the CAT, I was very clear that IIM C was the one I was gunning for. Rusty (PGP 91), a neighbor, had waxed eloquent on his vacation trips home, about nights spent hanging out on Howrah Bridge, music sessions on the jetty by the lake and mishthi in the canteen. Ravi (PGP 91 IIM A), a close friend, had complained miserably about the hyper competitiveness prevalent there, where classmates stashed critical reference books in wrong sections of the library so other classmates would be unable to find them. IIM B sounded very boring, because all my relatives lived near Bangalore and I had nightmare visions of one or other of them wanting me to go home every weekend. Not to mention Bangalore brings on my worst asthma attacks. Luckily, I got in. When we all trooped into IIM C, I don't know what other people expected but I had had visions of a grand old campus – reminiscent of some of the famous campuses of the world, Oxford, Harvard and so on. I was pretty shock