So I am finally done with one trimester of my MBA. That's one done, five more to go. And one has already taken a lot out of me.
Education is about building character. No, I didn't say that. Some wise guy did, and I can bet my last rupee, that guy didn't study in India. Our system starting from kindergarten is so designed to cram that next question into our brain, whatever character we built up is just an innocent by-product. This post is not about how worthless the system is. It's about that feeling that at last, knowingly or unknowingly, I have ended up in a course where character is built. If not built, at least polished. It's a breath of fresh air.
It might just be that be that all postgraduate courses are that way. After twenty odd years of learning by rote, there is only so much differentiation you can do by asking students to do the same thing again. The students have got older, the teachers even older, the system has at last matured. But surely the course matters. The MBA matters. And so does the institution.
Graduation was about a bunch of boys and girls coming together with uncluttered minds and undeveloped philosophies, trying to fight the system and be successful. At the same time you are developing opinions, judgements, moral codes, in short character. The idea is to build a foundation by which one can live the rest of one's life. The system is not going to help you other than give you a class to sit together in and mark sheets to compare your performance with others. You do it yourself and like it or not you come out as young men and women. And then you split.
And then a different set of young men and women come together for their post graduation and now the system all of a sudden finds an interest in your character. So now we have a group of ambitious individuals, with preformed opinions and predefined characters trying to make common cause, find common perspectives and build working professional relationships. And we are to be evaluated on it. When one's performance is linked not only by one's own abilities or effort, but by those who are around us, where groups and teams are made and broken every day to suit the occasion, evaluation is done of one's character.
Maths was never easy, but was easier. Putting X and Y in their rightful places might be difficult but at least they never had any opinions of their own. They never feel bad if you misplace them somewhere. Not so with people. Motors and computers might have complex mechanics and need deft technical understanding but at least they have a reset option. Or at least a power button. You could even give them a good old kick when no-one was watching. Not so with a group of guys and girls sitting together trying to piece out a report. Ones and zeroes might have their own complicated routes through high tech nano chips. But at least they never have mood swings.
Challenging, exhilarating even, but hard work. After almost two decades of trying to follow the golden rules of "listen in class, go home and study", it's not easy when you actually have to converse in class, when study is more about what life has taught you and less about the text book provided. We are not used to being dependant on others for our advancement (copying from thy neighbour in exams doesn't count!). All of a sudden it matters how nice a person we are, how patient, how adaptable we are. Understanding is no longer about some theory some genius made years ago; it's about where and how you stand right now. And all this has never been expected of us before. With no idea how and on what standards evaluation is done to start with, it's like fishing in the dark.
But we learn a lot. Learn, not study. The beautiful thing about understanding other human beings is that you end up learning a lot about yourself. When parts of the brain that have become vestigial for so long like imagination and foresight have to be dusted and used every day, you end up developing as a person. And it was about time that all important brain chip called memory that we have tortured for so long got some rest. When your judgements are vindicated, when your fallacies are highlighted, you end up adapting. By choice or subconsciously. To compete one hour and compromise the next, and yet go back home as good friends is indeed a challenge. More so for some than for others. To be liked by all, or loved by some, to like them all, or hate a few, management is like having to skip ones way through poodles of human emotions without getting your shoes wet. Be it teachers or your peers.
But of course, just to remind us this world isn't perfect, there is a splattering of theory papers, of copy from book, paste to brain subjects so that our poor memory chip doesn't feel left behind. And examinations, in the end come down to what you have in you, nobody else matters. But on the whole it is a good feeling. A tired brain, but a satisfied one. And the system can have its share of credit.
A Madrasan wrote this-
http://bit.ly/nZv0M5
Then a Delhi boy in reply wrote this -
http://bit.ly/r7fRHx
Then we have another madrasan (i think) joinin in....
http://bit.ly/r3phW4
and another delhi boy... http://bit.ly/p9Ynho
Its open letter season and I wouldn't want to be left behind...
Dear all of India, or let's say the rest of the world too (if you can point out India on a map, you are included),
The Madrasan made me laugh. There has always been something about acrid humor than attracted me. I thought it was a joke. Suitably exaggerated, suitably sarcastic, suitably insulting to not be taken seriously. It did not matter if I agreed with her or not. But a few good blogs and a million tweets and posts later, the joke seems to be lost. So I feel entitled to make an opinion and I go ahead and read it once more. And yes, it's no longer so funny. And so now when the humor has dried off by the laws of diminishing returns (bless my MBA), the post seems vile, biased, racist, insensitive and what not. But what exactly was the point here.
Now, before I put myself on the pedestal here and berate us Indians for not being able to take a joke or laugh at ourselves, I have just realized we have common cause for unity here. We Indians, be it from the north, the south, or the top of the Vindhyas, we seem to genuinely take offence at every opportunity provided. Maybe it's just part of some grand master plan by our great leaders (the dead ones) to keep our great nation united or just genetic change brought out by ages of oppression or climate change or whatever, but we really need to see the lighter side of life.
So when I now read a brilliantly written article disagreeing with every alternate sentence of a hilariously written article, I fail to see the point. Wasn't it kind of obvious that being politically correct was not exactly the intention here? Can not a few insensitive comments be taken in the right spirit and laughed at and forgotten. It seemed pretty easy to me. Does that make me any less of a patriot or a family man? Does that make me a racist too? Now why would I ask myself that question? I would just turn the page and enjoy the smile while it lasts.
So the Madrasan is in Delhi, the Delhi boy is vegetarian and the Mad Momma is cute. Other than a whole lot of humor and some excellent writing that has my poor non-journalist pen burning in jealousy, I really did not find a lot of data to base an opinion on. So would it be presumptuous to assume that these are not meant to form opinion. So before someone calls it a battle cry for all south Indians to go up in arms against their racist northern neighbors or before the north Indians decide to man their battleships expecting imminent attack, let's just take a break. Excellent pieces of writing on a trivial issue as the north-south divide (don't fool yourself, it's not even raised during elections) are only so much. Good creative writing. Everybody has their own beliefs and opinions. It's hard enough to confirm to one's own opinions while writing, leave alone everybody else.
Laugh and tweet and like and post and live, why judge?
One more Indian in cyberspace....
