I do not exactly recollect the year when the dream of doing an MBA got into my mind. What was quite interesting was the fact that, it was not just the course, but even the campus where I should get it done was crystal clear like the waters of a pristine lake where you could see tiny pebbles resting on the lakebed.
During my BCom days, I
chanced upon a brochure for the MBA programme offered by Christ College, one of
the most prestigious campuses in a city that was then called Bangalore. Was it
the course structure or the image of the campus, I still am not sure, that
attracted me more, to that magical temple of learning. An opportunity to visit
the campus during my BCom final year as part of a college tour added more
feathers to my dream.
Growing up in the late 90s in
Changanacherry, a small town in Kerala meant, limited aspirations and even
lesser exposure to career opportunities. A fact that was contributed by not
having enough mentors or resources to guide you on your career path and an
equally responsible lack of self-driven initiative. All these manifested for me
as just two options for higher studies post my graduation. Either get a master’s
degree in management (MBA) or delve into the world of technology with a master’s
degree in computer application (MCA).
Not wanting to miss out on
either, I did apply for both. Those were the times when colleges had separate
entrance exams for professional courses. I applied for MBA admission both at my
dream college Christ and at Rajagiri college in Kochi as a backup plan.
Meanwhile applications for MCA were also given in a couple of good colleges in
Coimbatore. As destiny would have its say, I did not clear the entrance exam
for Christ. I had to look at the next best options, with my dream shattered. I
sat along with my parents at the MCA admission office of PSG College of Arts
and Science in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, the day before entrance results were to
be announced at Rajagiri. Little did I know that life was to take me on a
twisted roller coaster ride that day.
Though I had good marks to
get an admission in merit, the rule those days was that if you were a student
from a different state, you had to pay a considerable amount as a
non-refundable deposit fees. My dad asked me to choose between MCA admission
which would be closed that day or take a chance and wait till the next day for Rajagiri
MBA results. I did not have a Plan C, a mistake on hindsight. It was one of the
most challenging decisions in my life till then.
I weighed my options and
finally opted to join MCA. A hefty amount was paid as fees, and my fate for next
three years was sealed that day. You live with the weight of the choices you
made through your life. By noon next day, Rajagiri announced the results. I was
selected for their MBA programme. But since the fees paid for MCA at PSG was
non-refundable, I burned the feathers of my original dream.
Life in Coimbatore started.
By the end of first year, my struggle with C++, Java and the dreaded Data
Structures led me to have a heart-to-heart conversation with my dad again. I
told him how I did not really see coding as my cup of tea. Full credits to him,
the response he gave me, drives me forward even today, though he is no more
physically with me. Such are the powers of genuine love of a parent. He
addressed me with all the affection a dad has for his son, 'Da mone, you can
study whatever you want, as long as I can support you. Do not worry. I will
only suggest you complete what you started, especially since it had a
considerable investment involved'.
I listened to my dad. While I
skimmed through my MCA days, I started to stick new feathers back to the wings
of my original dream I had burned earlier. By that time, individual entrance
exams for management institutions were a thing of the past. I had to compete at
the national level with exams such as Management Aptitude Test (MAT). While a
bit intimidated, I went ahead with the preparation. Dreams have a unique nature
to power you forward, while your reservations may try to pull you back. It is
absolutely a mind game where the power of your resolve will determine who wins
at the end.
I was in Bangalore for my MCA
final year project. It was a Saturday, a few days after I had applied for MBA
admission at Christ college again based on my MAT score which was not bad for
those days. By noon, I met Father Paul, the Director of MBA programme at Christ
then, at his office, to check if I got the admission.
Father checked the list and
looked at me. Two pairs of eyes met, one which seemed to have absorbed all the
peace of oceans across the world and the other owning up all the tempests that
raged across the planet! He told me, 'Jerry, there is one last seat left. It is
currently assigned to a girl from Punjab who is expected to confirm her
willingness to join by 3 PM today. If you want, there is a church behind the
college where you can pray till then. Come back to my office after that. If she
does not confirm by then, the seat will be yours!'
I felt like the only man
floating in the middle of Atlantic after a shipwreck, clinging on to a tiny
life jacket, the last hope of survival, only to realise with horror that it has
a hole which can be mended only by a glue called time! I felt the feathers of
my dream starting to burn, again.
Those 180 minutes were one of
the most intense experiences of prayer in my life. The church was closed, but I
knelt outside on the steps and prayed in whatever form of prayer I knew.
By 3 PM I was back at Fr
Paul's door. The only thing that was faster than my legs that took me back to
the college from church was my heartbeat. The palpitation was quite high, that
I literally had to try hard to keep my heart from getting out of my chest!
Father Paul saw me and asked
me to come inside his office. He looked at his watch, checked a paper that
appeared to be a list of names and wrote something on it. He then looked up and
said, 'Welcome to Christ College, Jerry.'
Dreams do come true!
