It was a big letdown. It was only week 1 and I was already wondering whether I had signed up for the wrong thing. Perhaps I had not read the fine print. The campus was located miles from the city, the weather was preposterously humid and food seemed awful. Other fellow students seemed solemn and reserved. Well, I knew better than to judge a book by its movie or a college by its first week.
But everything just grew more hectic, humid and lonely by the day. One would invariably be running. The only question would be where to - whether to get to the placement sessions, to class or to a senior for a CV review. Fellow peers just did not seem like the jolly peers we had in undergraduate college. The only substantial wing conversations would be about who would attend which company PPT. It all seemed so frigid and unwelcoming. How were alumni so nostalgic about this dreadful stay here? The only comfort seemed to be the humongous amount of work which made time fly...
I do not quite know when the subtle shift happened. Probably we were too busy to even notice it. I would still lament over the state of affairs here, but with my friends around me. Parties had happened and all the facade of solemnity had gone along with it. Suddenly, the section WhatsApp group was about more than just class timing notifications. A pack of cards was bought for the wing and rounds of Bluff became common. Jokes about food still did the rounds, but everyone was eating together now. Slowly yet surely, a sense of brotherhood had developed. History has enough evidence to suggest that nothing makes a gruelling experience more palatable than a sense of togetherness. Test marks were still below par, yet easier now to reconcile to with friends around. By the time our summer placements came around, we knew one thing for sure. We had clearly signed on to probably the worst trade, oops I mean education, deal ever. But we were all in it together and friendships blossomed.
Well, placements were a blur. Companies came, saw and conquered. With our workload reduced somewhat, the parties picked up. Dinners outside became commonplace, as did weekend getaways to hill stations and beaches. The sportsman within each one began to manifest itself. Evenings were still about running. But now they were about running for badminton, cricket or football. Elections were held and we again got habituated to seeing exaggerated points in bullets, only this time on candidate manifestos. The weather had taken a turn for the better and we truly began to appreciate the pristine beauty of our campus. What was once just a pathway to class, began to be now used as lingering spots for gossip.
Before we knew it, the first year had ended. It was time to pack our bags for home and internship locations thereon. As we departed back to the world which we had longed for over the past year, we realised that we were not so eager to leave anymore. Our internships progressed and realisation dawned. We missed our dear old campus. We missed hanging around together. We missed the carefree lives that we led in a hectic yet forgiving environment.
Oh, the joy of returning to campus for our second year! The same spots, same friends and the same jokes. The campus seemed so homely and welcoming. I am now one term into my second year. Although I am not there yet, I begin to sense why alumni wax nostalgic about their MBA days. Why they seize every opportunity to get back here, in the middle of nowhere. Why they eagerly follow updates about the campus. Why they call it the best and worst days of their lives. 2 years of MBA in a business school takes getting used to. It is an acquired taste. I do not recall anybody who enjoyed it one bit in the first few weeks, even months. Today, I find it hard to think of anyone who does not dread the thought of leaving this haven in a few months. Home is where the heart is, I suppose...