In pursuit of CAT…

This is a true story of one of my friends. A story, of a person whose life’s fun got sublimated by the fire of the CAT’s dragon.


After passing from one of the reputed institutes of the country Ravi was looking ahead for a career he had always dreamt of. Oh! This reminds me of those days when you can find our little Ravi selling his teacher’s pen to the class while the latter was busy in taking the practical tests in the lab. Completely unaware of the fact that his little entrepreneurial venture has been caught by the owner of the pen, he enthusiastically kept on persuading the people to test his product. In the end, he faced the wrath while the class enjoyed the drama but that didn’t stop his newfound adventurial spirits, for he started selling again!!


If there was something that used to give adrenaline push, it was his own PJs, skillfully crafted with a complete plan of how to irritate the other person to the last possible extent. He and his gang of 7 guys whom he used to proudly lead were known for eating your brains and chewing your grey matter with panache.


And yes, he was a brand conscious person. Nothing less than a bag of Nike will do and if that is still less, he plans to buy a BMW. He has some other plans, if you are interested. He used to buy 3 pairs of shirts and trousers from Van Hussein every month. But his first love was the party wear, which if you allow, he can come wearing at your funeral.


He was spending his life in the circles of smoke and his imaginations used to wander with them in the vast blue sheet traversing one horizon to the other. He just dreamt of one dream: NOTHING.


And lo! Here I entered in his life with my dream of becoming youknowwhat (see “in pursuit of more”). I always looked at him with contempt, for the people with low aspirations are like slum people for me, no matter whether you have it or not, you would not make it. But to flaunt, I started those intellectual and philosophical discussions in which I swim day in and day out. And he was impressed, damn impressed.


While he started looking up to me, I finally decided to take a pity on him. And then started the stories of glory of the managers of IIMs etc and how they earned million bucks. While I was selling him his new dreams, I was least bothered whether he will ever reach up to that level. “It won’t be difficult for you. After all, you are an engineer. DI and Maths can be done at the sleight of your hand. Just improve your English.”


And that day Ravi dreamt. He dreamt of a person working hard, burning “MIDNIGHT OIL”, and then joining that elite roll. And he has been dreaming it, dreaming that way since that day. He has stopped laughing, chirping and even selling. Cocooning himself in an attire of marketer, a war has started and he keeps wounding himself every now and then. Ask someone like me, I can recognize those wounds. They show themselves in Ravi not cracking those PJs, not carrying Nike’s bags and if that was not enough, not making those circles of smoke on whose voyage I never dared to volunteer. They are showed when he calls me to inform me about the work at the office that is breaking him from within. He simple does not like the work. So did I.


And despite my repeated attempts to assure him that MBA does not change much, I am not listened anymore. He asks me repeatedly, “Will I be able to make it? Will I be able to handle the pressure of their academia?” To hell with it.


What is the use of such a degree that makes the life of most of the people so miserable and a heavenly one for a very few of them? I had seen not ones, tens but hundreds of people solving AIMCATS, SIMCATS and all those mock CATS on their weekends, on those few days of sunshine in one’s life. And as expected, when they do not go well, they start the new week all over again with a raised expectation that this time it won’t be the same again. And the beautiful years of bachelorhood of one’s life are spent in the dreams of a wonder land. The beautiful evenings of Sundays are taken over by the analysis of the mock CATS in understanding why I did the way I did. Insane.


Was dreaming low, so punishable, I still ask myself. Wasn’t my contempt against his contentment? Can I smile and laugh the way he used to, even today? Questions and questions. Answerless ones and answerable ones. Sometimes, I feel like to run away, run to touch those clouds of smoke, run to touch those careless laughter, run to touch my own soul and just check if I really exist or if it is just an aspiration that is waiting for a time to get fulfilled. Amen.