The Orchard of Banchharam

Saw this play yesterday by Forum Three of Ranjon Ghoshal. Background: Ranjon heard us do our composition at out Annual Day function and seemed quite impressed. Invited us to watch the play and then meet him... and we started dreaming of an opportunity, very much undeserved, to do the score for his next play!

The play: hillarious. Rajeev Gupta, as Banchharam stole the show with his portrayal of the the 95 year old possessive owner of the orchard who wishes to die, live, die, live multiple times through the play, much to the chagrin of Nakori Datta, the landshark, enacted by Nilanjan Choudhury. Srijit Mukherji, the real star of 'The other side of history', which was the previous play of Forum Three, didn't get to do much as Hontka and Kontka Datta. Devaiah has done better as the good-for-nothing emasculated grandson here than as the lead in 'The other side...' I really would have liked to see Anand Ramprasad, Nikhil/Bijoy of 'The other side...' on stage too.
http://forumthree.blogspot.com/2006/01/forum-three-playfest-2006.html

After the play: Of course, Ranjon had no time to meet us. We'll meet sometime early next week is what he said. Hope early is before Friday.

Anyhow, so quite a nice evening we had. Now on to finishing IMD. Have promised myself today's the deadline for submitting the app.

Helping people...

This jet talker with a spanner in his works calls and asks for my advice for the upcoming interview. The other person whose dad works with my dad calls a second time and asks about GMAT after royally buttering me up in the first phone call. Yes, it used to feel good in the beginning but now it's getting on my nerves. I mean I have loads of stuff to finish at work and in those apps... and more than that I have my absent-mindedness and ever-growing sleep requirements to cater to.

Would you believe it... I come to office all set to work with my laptop but without its charger. I go back to get the charger, but come down from my home without the bike key. Very calmly, without cursing myself, because I am at ease with my stupidity, I climb the stairs again. This other guy calls and I help him with the details of how to study for GMAT when I would rather have told him how exactly to make a nice cylinder out of the OG 11th edition and use it more imaginatively. I come down with the key but without my mobile. Now, should I not blame the guy? Of course, I should not... But I will!

Queens Interview call.

Things are happening with me professionally. Got the interview call from Queens for February 2nd. IMD and INSEAD app are on the final stages. If nothing else, the Queens interview will brace me for the other two more demanding ones.

And well, personally, things all around me are straining to not fall apart... Imagine a circle of bamboo sticks stuck in loose soil with me in the center holding one thread that's tied below the middle of each stick. 'twill change, 'twill be better soon... time to sugar-coat the hopes going sour, with another achievement.

ISB Admit!

ISB offered me an admit with scholarship yesterday. Checked the mail after meeting Swati after such a long time and having meaningful conversations about Oncology and heart-aches. I read the whole mail twice, punched the air a couple of times and then settled down calling everyone at home, friends, sms'ing the others, and finally treating the left-over rectens in Bangalore.

Today, I've outgrown the feeling of satisfaction. There's a greater battle to be won. IMD is calling, and I am fiddling with my guitar! Focus, boy, focus...

Have a long way to go, but I know for sure I won't be at Cisco in 2007. And guess what, 12th Jan is coming near! This time there'll be no poetry, but I have bought Vaishu a nice little gift she's bound to like.

Ezzzays...

Almost fell asleep thinking about one of the IMD essays on "What motivated you to apply to IMD MBA?" At other times, I have been, furious, satisfied, thrilled with what I churn out for each of those questions that are meant to plumb the depths of your mind, but in the end, only manage to graze the R-complex, where ambition purportedly resides. So many different emotions can a single essay generate going through multiple iterations after every set of comments...

 

"Analyze any human emotion," said Freud, "no matter how far it may be removed from the sphere of sex, and you are sure to discover somewhere the primal impulse, to which life owes its perpetuation."

 

I'd say the MBA dream is as good as the primal impulse in fostering varied emotions.