TnP

Testosterone: A white crystalline steroid hormone, C19H28O2, produced primarily in the testes and responsible for the development and maintenance of male secondary sex characteristics.

Progesterone: A steroid hormone, C21H30O2, secreted by the corpus luteum of the ovary and by the placenta, that acts to prepare the uterus for implantation of the fertilized ovum, to maintain pregnancy and female secondary sex characteristics.

Testosterone and progesterone, fancy talk apart, are basically the key ingredients that keep a man manly and girl girly. Now manliness is generally associated with courage, valor, audacity, valiance, gallantry, etc.. while girlyness brings the following terms to mind: timid, coy, panicky, edgy and maybe even weak (no offence dear lionhearted sHE-MANs’). But sometimes, I wonder if it’s really so….

***

I was just as nervous as any interviewee would be just before appearing for his super-dream-star (whateva) company. Every would-be MBA dreams of and also dreads this moment… one interview which stands between shattered dreams and a seven figure salary. I cleared my throat, checked my hair, fine-tuned my tie and stepped into the interview room, only to find that it was vacant. I was later informed that the panel had gone for a tea-break, which meant I had to wait for fifteen more agonizing minutes before I got my chance. I began sweating was so profusely that I could see dark sweat-rings forming above my arms on my shirt, the light color of which, only accentuated the contrast.. Damn these dress codes!

In an attempt to keep my mind uncluttered for those 15 miserable minutes, I kept thinking about various random things: the proceedings of the recent G8 summit, impact of NGOs on today’s economy, the band night of our fest, my messed up room, the shocking election results.. wait a minute.. MY ROOM!! Did I lock it or not? Or did I just casually put the latch and actually forgot to lock it? That.. lemme tell you, is the most gut wrenching thought that can strike anyone just before an interview. You want to run over and make sure its locked.. but what if the darn interview starts and you nowhere to be found, only to turn up 15 minutes late.. all sweaty, coughing, wheezing and panting?? Man.. that was sheer horror. I was losing it totally and that was when I felt a strange but familiar tingle in my well-creased trousers. I checked my cell and saw Mom has sent an SMS.. “All d bst sweetie..”

Well.. I know it sounds overtly clichéd.. but my Mom is the best mom in the world.. and for more reasons than one. As I was replying to the msg.. I saw a man in the distance.. dressed in a pristine grey suit.. tall and fair.. and I don’t know what that little bald spot on the back of your head from which all the hair seems to spiral-out is called.. but just by looking at that spot.. I felt I knew this man. It was such a strange feeling. I kept staring at him in a desperate bid to discern his identity and unknowingly I stood up and started walking towards him. It was quite obvious he was one amongst the panel, but who exactly was he, still remained a mystery. I was only about ten feet from him when he suddenly turned around. That was it. Seeing him made me forget everything about the interview, about my nervousness and about my possibly unlocked room. All that crossed my mind then, was the image of my Mom, the hard working single mother, who had painstakingly brought me up amidst all odds, even when her home run business was in shambles and even when her husband had left her during the most critical stage of her life. The guy in the grey suit was my Ex-dad…


The two of us were standing face-to-face and one fleeting awkward moment later, in which his face had expressed a gamut of emotions ranging from shock to disbelief to shame and pity to surprise and affection, he recollected himself and briskly paced into the chamber.

I felt numb inside and my heartbeat seemed to have gone missing. I wanted to strangle that man in front of his colleagues and ask him where the hell had he disappeared without leaving behind even a piece of paper or anything at all, that would reassure us that he would return one day. But, doing that would surely have screwed all my chances of landing a job and that’s not what I wanted. But more importantly.. that’s not what my Mom wanted. I remained calm and poised and gracefully stepped into the room. There was another guy with him in there, wearing a brown suit, who looked well into his fifties. Maybe the flavor of the elaichi tea he’d just had was still lingering in his mouth or something, coz he had an unassumingly pleasant expression on his wrinkled face. I greeted the panel and looked towards the guy in the grey suit. It was clear. He wasn’t trying to hide it. He knew who I was and he knew that I knew who he was. There was a hint of pity visible on his face apart from which he looked completely aghast. The silence lasted for a fraction of a second after which the usual colloquy ensued:

Brown Suit: So.. Tell me something ‘bout yourself..

Me: Sir, I am a very friendly guy. I can strike a conversation with anyone and at the same time identify if they are genuinely friendly or faking compliance. According to me, the ability to pick out pretentious behavior is something that is very important for being a successful investment banker.. coz only then can you strike deals which are cent-percent infallible. That apart, I believe I can accomplish anything that I set my mind to, as that is something that I have got as heritage from my Mom.

B.S.: So what is it that you have accomplished in your life that can validate your statement?

Me: Sir, I have been raised amidst incessant bankruptcy. All my life, Mom had to run the household and her business with absolutely no money but still, like every other Indian parent, she had dreamt that her child gets the ultimate job insurance there is: An IIM-A degree… And as far back as I can remember, all my studies have been funded by the government in regard of my excellent academic background. The very fact that I am sitting here in front of you without ever taking a penny out of my Mom’s purse for my education, is by far the greatest achievement I could have dreamt of.

B.S.: It seems you hold your mother in very high regard..

Me: Yes Sir, she has been the most influential person in my life. She’s part housewife, part entrepreneur and a part time teacher.. I mean if anyone..

Grey Suit: (interrupting) So, why do you want to join this company?

Me: If you don’t mind Sir, I wanna share a little story to answer this question…

India, as we all know, is a land of dreamers. People young and old dream alike, of one day making it big and scripting an extraordinary rags-to-riches story that serves as an example to the entire world. My parents were no different. Born and brought up in a middle class environment, both had nurtured similar dreams and had even refused seven figure salaries to start their own little venture. My mom, incidentally had got a job offer from this very firm and had always dreamt of having a fat paycheque, a car, a big house, her own chamber.. the works. She was never the entrepreneurial types.. but it was my father’s enterprising vision that changed her mind and she took his dream as her own. But as luck would have it, even after years of conscientious efforts, their diligence bore no fruits and whatever startup money they had acquired, had been invested in an endeavor trapped in a vicious cycle of loss. As time passed, the constant struggle against all odds just to stay afloat, sapped the optimism out of my father and he got attracted towards the comforts of a secure, well paying job. Hence, he left us to join some foreign bank, leaving my mom to wage a lonely war against the tide of time, like trying to steer a sinking ship caught in a torrid storm..

Hence, it’s actually my Mom’s dream that I wanna fulfill by joining this company, so that I can give her everything she had always hoped for all through her life…

G.S.: But then, why did your mother not abandon her sinking ship and get a job as per her abilities?

Me: Well.. to tell you the truth, she actually did think of ‘abandoning her ship’ once. I remember the day quite well.. I was eight then.. She had finalized the sell-out over the phone and I was sitting right beside her. After hanging up, she took a deep sigh and looked towards me incoherently. She told me that she had quit her failed business forever and sold it off. I stared at her for a while and then asked.. “Mom, if I fail at school, will you leave me too??”

She looked into my eyes, whacked her head with her hand, hugged me tightly and immediately called the deal off. From that day onwards, whenever someone asks her ‘bout it, she says that she has two children. One with the four limbs and one that is ‘special’.

I mean, even a godforsaken monkey, carries its dead child with itself in the hope that it may be revived one day… We for once, are still human beings Sir!

B.S.: (after a prolonged silence) Well.. since asking any further questions seems pointless, I just want to ask one final thing. What would you do if you are not selected here today?

Me: First thing I would do is get a blood-test done. After all, I am my mother’s son.. there is no way I cannot get selected.. hehe..

Grey Suit: It’s been nice meeting you, thanks for coming..

Me: The pleasure is all mine.. Sir.

***

I was woken up next morning by a deafening noise outside my room. It sounded like a mob outbreak and an outrageous number of people were hysterically banging on my door. I opened up and was greeted with loud cheers and hugs. It was official now.. I had been selected.

Shortly after, in true-blue IIM-A fashion, my room got mobbed by juniors and batch mates alike, all of whom kept asking inane questions ‘bout the selection process and the experience of making it through to the most sought after profile in the entire country. Some guy actually brought a camcorder and started a mock interview of sorts, making sure that he used the word ‘Sansanikhez’ repeatedly. I gave the usual mundane tips for preps and then, when everything had settled down a bit, I dropped the bomb… I told I’d be rejecting the offer and instead, join my Mom full-time to revive her disconcerted enterprise. Rest assured, my candid decision caused quite an uproar and the mock news reporter found only one word suitable enough to describe the turn of events: ‘Sansanikhezz!!’

After praising my resolve and questioning my sanity with equal certainty for sometime, I was asked to give a final word of advice to all the wannabe IBs’. I thought about it for a while and then said:

“It really doesn’t matter what you are like in the outside world.. inside the chamber, you should be the reflection of the man who you wish to be ten years down the lane. Always look the interviewer in the eye, be confident and remember, the guy sitting in front of you, is just another insecure person, like the rest of us..”