User Avatar

Rupali Patro

Alumni | IIM Lucknow (Since 1984)

Free-spirited and independent in nature, she takes immense pleasure in weaseling words to create her own world, tiny or vast. With an undergraduate degree in ceramics from NIT Rourkela, she has traversed all the way to pursue her MBA from IIM Lucknow. She is an optimist and an opportunist. She is selectively social and brutally honest. Often shall you catch her humming some singsong or the other to herself. If she is not found singing, she’ll be found doodling. Oh, she loves fine arts. Calligraphy is something vital to keep her sanity intact. At all other times, she shall be found scribbling, struggling to assemble those wild directionless thoughts of her wandering mind, frame them into something coherent to the world. More than anything in the world, she wishes to be a writer.

Free-spirited and independent in nature, she takes immense pleasure in weaseling words to create her own world, tiny or vast. With an undergraduate degree in ceramics from NIT Rourkela, she has traversed all the way to pursue her MBA from IIM Lucknow. She is an optimist and an opportunist. She is selectively social and brutally honest. Often shall you catch her humming some singsong or the other to herself. If she is not found singing, she’ll be found doodling. Oh, she loves fine arts. Calligraphy is something vital to keep her sanity intact. At all other times, she shall be found scribbling, struggling to assemble those wild directionless thoughts of her wandering mind, frame them into something coherent to the world. More than anything in the world, she wishes to be a writer.

2 Stories

Trysting With Tata Steel - Rupali Patro's Internship Experience - IIM Lucknow

As I gaze into my keyboard to pull together words expounding my brief tryst as a summer intern with Tata Steel, this intense quote spoken by the divine Billy McMohan in the movie “The Internship” keeps reverberating in the canaries of my mind, “And I want to have you get

Musings Of A Raving IIMian's Mind

It was one of those afternoons before the advent of spring. It was that time of the year when the sun seemed to shine on the rain and the rain seemed to fall on the sunshine, reveling in the mere presence of each other. The time of the year when