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It all began with a form filled minutes before the deadline.

NMAT proved to be some respite from the barrage of brain banging experiences collectively known as Season-'11. A decent GD/PI raised already buoyant hopes. Delayed results sent them into a spiral of paranoia. Finally, afterlosingendless hours and patches of hair worrying, I received the hallowed admission letter. After many a teary farewell, I was locked, stocked and loaded, on my way to the City of Dreams. The first look at the NMIMS campus had a very humbling effect on me. A span of three floors for the journey from an Average Joe to a Manager evoked images of giants being bred in rabb cages in my it head. Understandably, the administration wanted us to spend most of the first week outsideit. A beautifully thought out orientation programme acquainted starry eyed students with the city and each other. Team spirit was everywhere, whether sitting in a computer centre in a bid to outthink other teams or sprinting across the city in a bid to outrun them. The honeymoon period was short-lived as the academic session soon began. Financial accounting gradually eclipsed other evils as the source of people s misery. On the other hand, IDL, CAR and CSR opened doors to realms where nothing one said was wrong. Micro economics brought out the romantic in me. Lost in the chaos of demand and supply, I texted my girlfriend: Every second without you/Is a moment in futility, My love for you ever increases/ So does its marginal utility . I still blame the market for my breakup. On most days, the 80% attendance criterion was the sole reason for many a broken body/soul limping into class. The mayhem continued as student cells rolled out the red carpet. Deadlines were short and unforgiving. The length of interviews in many would put quite a few job interviews to shame. The real test began after this process. Everyone was on a never-ending quest to balance academics, presentations, extra curriculars, cell activities and what remained of their social life. There is an eerie lullin the air these days.With summers approaching, an invisible hand has pulled the plug on most leisure activities. The rigour of the course is taking a toll on us. Some say we are on the path of becoming mindless corporate slaves. I say we are on the path of becoming men. Only time will tell. Till then, let s try and meet the next deadline.