My CAT/GRE pre started sometime in the sixth semester. Most of the effort went in improving my vocabulary to prep myself to whip out antonyms and figure out analogies in the GRE exam. The words I had to memorize were not learnt organically by using them in colloquial speech. Rather they were drilled into the brain by going through them over and over again. I used to carry little 2x1 inch flash cards which had the words on one side and the meaning on the other. It was common to spot me rapidly flipping through these flash cards during practicals, in the bus, at the bus stand, in lecture, and in every activity that didn’t require active involvement of hands. In between, if I came through an unfamiliar word, I would jump at Maurya, and shoot, “hey, what does this mean.” Rarely there would be a word that was not stored in the infinite database in Maurya’s skull. Boy, I sure am glad I never had a partner for whom I was nothing more than a human dictionary. I must have bored Maurya to death. Sorry for that buddy.

Quant prep was done from books. I didn’t bother Maurya with that. With due respect to Maurya’s numerical skills (and his getting through CAT is a testimony of his quant capability), I was confident that I was better equipped to solve a problem than him. I must have become quite a nerd in those days. I distinctly remember multiplying the first two digits on a number plate of every passing vehicle with the last two digits mentally, to build some mathematical muscle. I wonder if it helped at all. Nonetheless, the show-off that I am, I enjoyed the awe that this little exercise generated, not for the difficulty of the stunt, but the dedication which I exhibited for CAT; dedication which was the domain of people like Ritesh and Maurya otherwise.

I had my classes, mock CATs, mock GREs and all of it that every diligent IIM or MS aspirant goes through. Every Sunday there would be these exams, then a series of self-appraisal, improvements, strategy formulation, and then the next test.

As CAT approached, the storm kept intensifying. The preparation level for CAT kept going down as it came closer. Reason: it was also the end of sem 7 and there were assignments and journals to be submitted, along with preparation for the exam. And as if these pressures weren’t enough, Kattoo decided to give 5 punishment assignments in microwave to a handful of students, me included.

There was unbelievable pressure on me at that point, most of it self generated. I wanted to do an MBA from a good B-school really bad. A very big reason for this was that, unlike our brethren in better engineering colleges, we didn’t have a job to look forward to after BE. And IIMs almost have a magical quality attached to them for an MBA aspirant. Another reason why the pressures were so high was that I had already tasted failure when I had failed to get into the IITs. That was a morale wrecking experience. A repeat for the MBA would have been crushing. And on the other hand everyone in the college was trying their best to ensure that things were as difficult as possible for people appearing in these exams. The mind would helplessly grapple for any support, any confidence booster possible. But there was nothing visible till the distant horizon (excuse the cheesy, poetic metaphors… it was a delicate state of mind)

And then the CAT crossed my path. I have never been so helplessly nervous. I was under-prepared. But that wasn’t the reason why I was stressed to the point of my blood vessels blowing up. It was just the desperation of wanting to get into IIMs that engaged all my brain cells, leaving none for rational thinking. Needless to say, I had a very, very bad CAT. After the paper was taken, my butt refused to leave the seat, as it dawned upon me that I would not even be close to getting what I so desperately wanted. I couldn’t cry. And the chemicals in my body were reacting in a very irregular way, as I felt deprived of all body fluids within, a burning sensation spreading across my inner hollow cavities and a cold wave sweeping my skin. I couldn’t believe that I would not be doing MBA in an IIM. Some wise guy had told me, if we plot pressure on X-axis and productivity on Y-axis we would get a bell curve. Till a point, productivity increases as pressure increases. But beyond that, it drops rapidly with increasing pressure. I had crossed the threshold by a mile. And soon I would repeat it. It wasn’t the competition that unnerved me, or the difficulty that was frightening. It was the sheer want to be in those IIMs, where only a select, brilliant few are supposed to get in.

After the CAT, news broke out that the exam had been declared null and void because of some paper leak. I was so shaken up, that the implication of the news didn’t even register. It slowly dawned upon me that I would get another shot at CAT. I was not euphoric. Just relieved. Since then, every person I have met, especially the ones who did not get through the 2nd attempt, claim their first CAT had been great. Mine had been horrible. And that night as I was about to retire to sleep, I whispered a silent prayer thanking God for a second chance. A stray tear escaped the eye. And before launching myself into a second go, I reminded myself that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I didn’t get through an IIM. It didn’t help. I still wanted those B-schools as bad. But I was in a better position to accept failure now.