Feb 01, 2017
10:00 AM
Subject- Agro-Commodity Trading
With somnolent demeanour I dragged myself out of the bed, wore my jeans and jacket to attend the class. The topic was not intriguing, the attendance too was in the "safe" zone, but something compelled to take that one final stretch to Room No. 6.
The 4 minute journey from my W-610 to the lecture hall was not an ordinary one when it struck me. The revelation of it being the last class of my MBA. An potentially, my student life.
I sat in the Agro Commodity class. Generally a corner bencher, I sat up in row 2. Not surprisingly, the class had a paltry attendance (given the fact it was the last trimester of the MBA and the placements were done and no one paid heed to lectures anyways), the Prof. started with a smirk given that no one was paying attention. Being in IIFT and having Trade as my MBA minor, I was supposed to be aware about physical trading and commodity derivative fundamentals. 15 minutes of attention and the span drew to an abrupt end.
I tried hard but I could feel the revelation, the startle about it being the last time I sat in a lecture. There was an eerie feeling of the joy of finally crossing the threshold of an MBA but the despair of this lovely phase of life which apparently won't come again. Ever. I wanted to say something but a lump in the throat is all what I could muster.
The emphasis of the day, of those two hours cannot be summarised or expresses in words because the feeling overpowers your action. It lingers somewhere in my subconscious mind and makes me contemplate the entire 20 years of my life as a student. It also makes me reminiscent of my first lecture or class which I just couldn't recollect. The long and thrilling ride from a kindergartener to an MBA (International Business). I couldn't compare the 4 year old me and the 26 year old me and what would have been the feeling and the jitters in the days of yore. Phew!
The clock ticked and the two hours, the 120 minutes, the 7200 seconds elapsed. During these precious seconds and some derivative gibberish, I kept on thinking about how enriching all these things have been. The periods of draughts have been the lessons I learnt, the periods of spring have been the celebrations. To add flavour to this signature dish, there were the experiences I gained, and the spice was given by the friends I made.
Multiple thoughts gushed before me swaying me into a whirlpool of emotions. It reached a point where I felt that I have grown up all so suddenly. I longed that kindergartener, frivolous, nonchalant and away from the world of reason and politics.
The time had come. The transition had happened. I had lived my last lecture.
10:00 AM
Subject- Agro-Commodity Trading
With somnolent demeanour I dragged myself out of the bed, wore my jeans and jacket to attend the class. The topic was not intriguing, the attendance too was in the "safe" zone, but something compelled to take that one final stretch to Room No. 6.
The 4 minute journey from my W-610 to the lecture hall was not an ordinary one when it struck me. The revelation of it being the last class of my MBA. An potentially, my student life.
I sat in the Agro Commodity class. Generally a corner bencher, I sat up in row 2. Not surprisingly, the class had a paltry attendance (given the fact it was the last trimester of the MBA and the placements were done and no one paid heed to lectures anyways), the Prof. started with a smirk given that no one was paying attention. Being in IIFT and having Trade as my MBA minor, I was supposed to be aware about physical trading and commodity derivative fundamentals. 15 minutes of attention and the span drew to an abrupt end.
I tried hard but I could feel the revelation, the startle about it being the last time I sat in a lecture. There was an eerie feeling of the joy of finally crossing the threshold of an MBA but the despair of this lovely phase of life which apparently won't come again. Ever. I wanted to say something but a lump in the throat is all what I could muster.
The emphasis of the day, of those two hours cannot be summarised or expresses in words because the feeling overpowers your action. It lingers somewhere in my subconscious mind and makes me contemplate the entire 20 years of my life as a student. It also makes me reminiscent of my first lecture or class which I just couldn't recollect. The long and thrilling ride from a kindergartener to an MBA (International Business). I couldn't compare the 4 year old me and the 26 year old me and what would have been the feeling and the jitters in the days of yore. Phew!
The clock ticked and the two hours, the 120 minutes, the 7200 seconds elapsed. During these precious seconds and some derivative gibberish, I kept on thinking about how enriching all these things have been. The periods of draughts have been the lessons I learnt, the periods of spring have been the celebrations. To add flavour to this signature dish, there were the experiences I gained, and the spice was given by the friends I made.Multiple thoughts gushed before me swaying me into a whirlpool of emotions. It reached a point where I felt that I have grown up all so suddenly. I longed that kindergartener, frivolous, nonchalant and away from the world of reason and politics.
The time had come. The transition had happened. I had lived my last lecture.
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