Why I Hate Telephonic Interviews

It is not just the weather, but the atmosphere in general. With constant urging from all directions to fix something for the summer so that things can be finalised and the end-semester exam (almost) knocking on the doors, the heat surely is getting to me.

To make matters worse, I have had to deal with this (new to me) format of interviews – telephonic interviews. And I have started to hate telephonic interviews. Here are my reasons:

#1. You’re Immersed in A Movie and the protagonist is going to kill the antagonist when the mobile rings. Tidi-Tidi-ti-ti-Tidi-Tidi-ti-ti. And then the caller-id shows an unknown number. You wonder if it is worth it pausing the movie at the climax and receiving the call. You hope it is not one of those “useless kind of calls which you really regret receiving” and press the green button.

#2. It happens All of A Sudden. A booming voice ready to take an interview informs you that he is going to have a little tete-a- tete with you for 10-15 minutes and that’ll be about it.

#3. Having Taken It For Granted That You Had been Rejected you had completely forgotten about it. Now as the questions start bombing in, you wonder what to do.

#4. You Weren’t Ready For It

#5. A Silence Is a Silence on A Telephone. You can’t show the interviewer that you are thinking. So, you start drawling out answers slowly and (almost as if) from memory. The interviewer listens calmly. Then you feel you are too slow and then you mess up further. You are almost feeling like a helpless lamb being slaughtered not because the interviewer was saying anything but because the silence was killing you.

#6. There Is no Eye Contact. So there is no way for you to tell the interviewer: Hey look at me. Look at the gleam in my eyes. Look at the enthusiasm in me. Can’t you see kitna tempo hai mujhme.

#7. It isn’t as Long as You Think It is. You look at the watch. You have been 5 minutes into the interview and you’re already saying your goodbyes. That sure isn’t 10-15 minutes!

You know that your fate is sealed. You give in to your fate, set a status message on GTalk: “Why do I suck at interviews?” and decide that it is going to be your next blog post. And then you hit the spacebar.

Confessions of A Goodie Goodie Kid

STATUTORY WARNING: All characters and incidents depicted below are purely from memory. The description is not very accurate. The reader is advised to take what is given below with a pinch of salt.

12 Years Ago

I was made the line monitor. It was a very responsible post. The class being seated in 4 columns, I was in-charge of the discipline of my column. (Imagine! Poor me)

My first real responsibility. I wanted to be up to the task. No mistakes.

Library period.

"Line. Please make a queue".

As is the tradition, shouts of "He's not making a queue. Why should I?", "Why a Queue?" followed.

"Raveesh, this is your last warning."

The rest they say is history.

I reach the library last along with Raveesh, am at the receiving end of what not and my mind is swirling with what not.

Luckily, the missing button on my shirt was attributed to loose threads. I was the goodie goodie kid.

7 years ago

I am new to the class having changed my section. I get into a fight with one of my classmates. After a 15 minute tussle, I manage to "nail" my opponent. (Apparently, his shirt got stuck in a nail). As he attempts to fight back, the inevitable happens. There is a screeching sound and before we realize what has happened his shirt is torn into two pieces.

Nobody discovers my misdemeanor. I was never rebuked for the incident. I was the goodie goodie kid.

Now

I am no longer a kid.

But when I watch kids being reprimanded , I think - "Why can't they be a goodie goodie kid?"

P.S: What happened between the 12th year and the 7th year? More goodie goodie stories later. Possibly when the time is right. But for now, this is it.

Illumination and Rangoli: The Countdown

Diwali in IITKgp is celebrated differently. Instead of firecrackers, we have Illu (the abbreviated form of Illumination) - something unique to Kgp.

Preparation for Illumination starts 15-30 days in advance and gains momentum in the last few days before Diwali. The idea, though novel - struck me as odd - specially the way it happens in Kgp.

1. Only the 1st year and 2nd year students are involved in the preparations. The entire hostel isn't.
2. The actual preparation takes place only in the final few days. 10-15 days aren't required at all. More so, I could never understand why Illu preparations had to happen after midnight when it could be easily done in the evening.
   
3. I couldn't see any point in everything being done by the students - themselves.

Armed with this + some additional funda (again a very strange culture of Kgp) that I had gathered from some of my seniors, I decided to stay out of Illumination as much as I could.

Therein began my tale of escapades, some of which become popular in the hall. Some - in my own estimate - were rather dumb. But nonetheless, it was an adventure worth trying instead of sitting in the hall doing menial things that were being instructed to me.

Day 13: 2000 hours

Since this was the first day, I had almost no idea. A common room meeting is called at 2130 hours. I decide to bunk it. I go to the library.

Day 12: 0000 hours

I don't feel like coming back to the hall - having bunked the meeting - knowingly. My cycle tyre is flat - punctured. I decide to spend the night in a friend's room in another hostel.

Day 11: 2000 hours

Day 10's strategy seemed really dumb to me. Someone else's room isn't the best place to spend a night. I decide to lock the room from outside after 2130 hours. The windows in the doors turn out to be really useful.

Day 10 upto Day 8

Everything is peaceful. I have no problems with my strategy.

Day 7: 2200 hours

I decide to go out for some fresh air. The moment I open the window - I see seniors standing gaping at the window and the lock in alternate fashion. I have to go to work that day.

Day 6: 0030 hours

I decide - enough is enough - I'll go back to the room and sleep.

Day 5: 2230 hours

Even though my strategy had been discovered, I couldn't see any reason that I shouldn't do it again. After all, nobody could break the lock of my room.

Unluckily, the trick is discovered again - for the door yields a bit to merciless banging - and I can be seen through an opening in the door. Bad luck yet again.

Those outside: "Mainak, give us the key."
Me: "I don't have them. My roommate has it."

I was in no mood to work through the night.

Day 4: 0400 hours

I couldn't come up with any good ideas. I decide to fall back on Day 13's strategy. But again I am caught. A senior calls me in the dead of the night.

"Mainak, come back to the hall."

Day 3: 0530 hours

Having been caught thrice, I decide to work - so as not to complicate matters. I feel the work is really awful. I have lost my sleep all for nothing.

Day 2 & Day 1:

By now, people are fed up with my tactics. They know I'll come when I want to come. I work for some time and go back to sleep before midnight.

Day 0:

It is Diwali day. This is the day when most of the work gets done. I decide to pitch in with a helping hand.

Many felt I couldn't exonerate myself from the guilt of the last 13 days by working a day or two. But for me, it was about being sensible and doing what seemed was most appropriate for me and my hostel.

P.S: I think I forgot to mention Daru night and the treat. The treat was somewhere around Day 13 and the Daru night was somewhere around Day 4 or 5. I do not remember exactly because I had skipped the Daru night.

Related Posts

Illumination and Diwali: Day 0
Illumination and Diwali: Day -1

Nostalgia: Code word tuti-on

Tuti-on: Pronounce it right

This was way back in 2001. I was in my VIth standard and one of the toppers in my class.

I was good at Science, Social and English. I could manage Hindi but Sanskrit gave me nightmares. I got a B in Sanskrit in Vth (which was P3 - Pathetically Poor Performance going by my standards back then).

I did not want the entire class to know that the topper was attending tuition classes.

So, I always referred to it as tuti-on. That made me feel better.

Ka, Kha, Ga, ... then what?

Matadeen sir stressed the importance of having our fundamentals strong. From the very beginning, we were told to improve our handwriting and revise our shabd/dhatu roops.

However, to his horror, he discovered that we did not know the Devanagari script. We knew a few alphabets in order - the rest was all mayhem.

We were made to go through our very basics. It increased our confidence level tremendously.

'Does she live down there?'

From the day, sir discovered that our English teacher Anita Abraham was living below Siddhesh (we had our classes in his house), he became reluctant to come to the same place to teach.

After some deliberation, it was decided that the venue for the tuitions would shift base to my house. The onus was now on me.

Paan + Chai: Sandhi Banao

Matadeen sir (almost always) had a paan/supari in his mouth. As a result, he had this strange high pitched voice that is typical of Paan eaters.

The three of us would stare with disgust when he would start drinking the tea and say 'Sandhi Banao: ___ + ___'. Most disgusting.

Rest assured, he was a top-notch Sanskrit teacher. Though, I always wondered why

• He never taught in the school (He would come in - give some high-funda lecture and fly off)
• He never recommended those Rs 3 Kunjis in class (the ones he procured from Banaras)

His were the only tuition class I ever attended. I never had any problems in Sanskrit from then on (or was it so? Matadeen sir taught me in Guwahati. In Bangalore, the syllabus of VIIth was repeated for our class VIIIth course. I have always wondered whether I was just lucky).

I did not pursue Sanskrit after VIIIth even though it was supposed to be a 'scoring subject'. I took Hindi instead.