The start of another year

It has been a busy three weeks more or less over the last fortnight of 2018 and the first week of 2019.  As I sat down to catch up with long overdue emails I was overcome by a rush of thoughts and emotions.

I read about my good friend Pradeep's son, Tejas, joining Georgia Tech for his undergraduate studies.  My association with Pradeep is one of those I would never have imagined.  He became such an important part of my life, all because of his goodness that I have to borrow an expression that I heard in a stand up comedy.  He is nearly a brother from another mother.  

Reading about it Tejas going to GT I was overcome by a strange mix of feelings. At one level it I felt a bit like the Cabuliwallah, just thinking that I have two fellows growing up fast and we will soon have to worry about where they will head by God’s Grace.  

At another level I realized that another generation had come of age.  That of course has already happened with most people of my age.  Many have gone on to become grandparents.  As one's children move on in life one begins to feel that one’s own important responsibilities in life are getting fulfilled and one will have to move on to the next phase where one has to lead a life without those who had depended on you, without them leaning on you any longer, definitely not in the same manner that they had all these years.

I travelled a lot during these three weeks:  Kolkata, Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Chennai.  Mostly on work except to Chennai to celebrate my brother-in-law's sixtieth birthday.  And that was again a source of stark reminders.  I was not amused when the family said that they would now look forward to mine in October.  

In the midst of this IIMB processed the CAT results and finalised the interview list. 

As Chairperson Admissions, as I oversee the admissions processes, I am overwhelmed by a sense of power and accountability that the position brings with it at the same time.  I realise that the choices I make in terms of policy will affect the destinies of at least a few ten thousand people who are serious contenders for the 450 seats that we have.  

Granted there is a Committee of five extremely smart and experienced colleagues who are deeply committed to the colleague - traits that I looked for when I requested them to be on my Committee - who closely oversee all major decisions we make.  As Chairperson of the Committee I play an important part in the choices we make as an institution.  

The way admissions is run is also a compliment to the IIMs that the admissions process is independent of the rest of the institution.  That ensures that the Admissions process is incorruptible in any way.

So in these past few days, out of the blue people who had forgotten for me years and decades and whom I had lost track of, hunted me out of oblivion, ostensibly to admire how I have remodeled myself as an academic, but mainly to enquire if I would know anything about the son or daughter of a friend or a relative or a neighbour who had appeared for CAT. 

My honest response to them was simple and brief: As Admissions Chief all that I get to see about the identity of individual candidates is a string of digits that make up their CAT registration number.  I want to be able to say with an honest conscience that I do not even know who all applied, who qualified for interviews and who made it, until they all make it to IIMB.

As I heard those enquiries I was taken back in time to 1980 when I was anxious to know if I had made it to IIMC because someone I was interested in lived there.  I was not so keen on IIMA even though it was No 1 by a wide margin.  My penchant for misplaced priorities had started manifesting right then.  I finally ended up in IIMB when my Dad refused to support my demand to appear for CAT once more, even though he did not know of my real motives.

And then I think of how life has come full circle as I heard that the same girl, who I had lost touch with for many decades, telephoned me recently to inform that she had become a grandmother, and then even more recently to let me know that had met with a serious tragedy in her personal life. 

And so, I tell myself, that these days will pass on also for all those who are waiting anxiously to know the results that they have been working so hard for so months, may be even a couple of years.  

As I go about setting the cutoffs for interviews and admission I remind myself that I am bound to crush more hearts and minds that I am likely to gladden.  The law of averages are loaded more in favour of my inflicting disappointment than ringing in joy.  I further remind myself of how I am a mere mortal, beset with entirely flawed judgement and the only lesson I have learnt in life is that I am capable of just messing things up.

Thus it is that before I sit down every time to work on admissions I pray to God secretly, silently to help me do the right things.  To forgive me for any wrong that I may do, however unintentionally.  And to make sure that everyone whose life I may touch gets what they deserve in His grand calculus.

Let me dispel any feeling that, in saying all this I suffer from any delusion of grandeur.  I am not the first man to run admissions in IIMB.  Nor will I be the last.  But that does not diminish the sense of responsibility that weighs on my mind.

I have also been breathing hard in these past six months as I struggle to lead a team to bring in applications for some of our other programmes.  I have struggled to teach, read and write more than I have in all these years.  My engagement with the Department of BT, GoI  increased at the same as I serve on two of their standing / permanent committees.  

Net net, it has been a hard life, travelling like mad, even as I see my sons growing up quickly by God’s Grace without much help or support from me.  Lakshmi is bearing all the load on that front.  

My "daughter", Lakshmi Reghunath, wrote back to me in response when I sent her a birthday greeting that she is in the family way.  That was another pointer to me of my own moving on to the next phase of my own life and yet another Cabuliwallah moment.  For a brief while I wished I could see her again.  Then I said I could / should not.  It was not meant to be so.

Overall, it has been an emotional roller coaster these past few months.  And I seem to have aged a lot meanwhile in these months.  I get tired more often these days.  I often lapse into long spells of reflection even as I try to increase my reading.

Nanni...Namaskaram...