3 years
30 subjects
300 presentations
3,000 submissions
30,000 lectures
3,00,000 rupees!
30 subjects
300 presentations
3,000 submissions
30,000 lectures
3,00,000 rupees!
A normal human being can’t do it. The rest, well they’re BMS Graduates.
The Fresher’s day was just an excuse that BMS cooked up to ‘induct’ the new bakras that enrolled into this prestigious course; HRBMS. With our dear seniors welcoming our batch lovingly, serenading us with songs and dance, not realizing that they made way bigger fools of themselves than of us.
All the same, an entry into HRBMS. The land of projects and presentations, of 7 am lectures, of attendance and detention, of never-before-seen teachers (and their meticulously chosen flowery language), of politics, of war and controversy and of course, of an equal dosage of heart-burn and of fun.
With over 3000 students flocking the oh-so-beautiful Art Walk that BRAND HR boasts of in flip-flops and shorts only on the days of exams, it was just our pompous lot of BMS kids that dressed up (in pants and shoes, note) and woke up at 7 am (with perfectly gelled, spiked hair – in some cases hidden by a white, not to mention dirty cap) to gallantly strut our stuff for a particular Mr. Sohum’s class on a Sunday Morning. Yes. The life of a BMS kid. 75% attendance. 28 projects a year! 7 working days a week with god only knows how many sleepless nights. Sacrifices in the form of night-outs, games and sports, sleep… Life? More like death.
But of course, Marketing has taught that for anything to sell, it must be sugar coated. Death included. BMS too, had its sugar coating. Guess that’s what contributed to the mass average weight gain of 18.6 kgs per person over the last three years (thanks, Gautam A for that meticulous mathematical calculation that was a derivative function of the composite amalgamation of residual numerators). But in all seriousness, BMS had its lighter moments as well. Right from brown face paint at Lakshya to the free air tickets (to any destination in the world!!) that went begging. From the khujli of the beggar under the Phoenix flyover to the shrill shriek of 93(!) at the end of every class. The delicious aroma of Raju’s garlic chicken that drew each one away from poor Akhilesh’s class to flock onto the sturdy red NeelKamal furniture that decorated our ‘canteen’. From the countless nights spent at Leo’s after winning every single college fest that these losers threw at us to dancing with the trophy the next day. From our glorious IV’s to the teachers that brightened our every day. Thank god BMS has a sweet tooth.
The 5th floor of HR College is supposed to stink very badly. Stink of attitude. It’s surprising though, that it was hard to ever find any BMS kid on the 5th floor since they were always chasing Abhishek and Mihir who discretely stole a paneer role from someone’s plate on the terrace. But however messy our class was because of the amount we ate through the year, our college associates never seemed to have a problem with it. In fact, on the other hand, they were rather grateful that our class had nominated a jhadu wala who considered it his moral responsibility to sweep the floors with his baggy pants that hung from the bottom of his rear end.
As children, often on Saturday afternoons, we ran down for an after-lunch treat of chocolate ice-cream at a popular local hangout called Snowmans. As time passed and hopefully, so will we, nature took its course and Snowmans shut down for good. But we at HRBMS, have nothing to fear, for we have our very own in-house snowmen. These three works of art are not only white, but are also round and more importantly, cold.
Gandhiji was certainly successful in buying whatever he wanted in BMS. Check out his new engagement suit! Too bad a sense of humour was too expensive. Bollywood too, expectedly, was a major influence on the life of the average BMS kid. Talli longed for a drag on a rather passive Jai’s Benson while they both swayed to Billo’s latest item number. Of course, sports were not far behind. The He-man, the cow and Mr. Sweat battled it out for the supremacy of the EPL as Dhadda played shadow cricked through the night. What was surprising though, was how the imaginary bat and ball always managed to brake so many lamps.
A new Gucci bag often complimented the newest pair of gold Aldo sandals, but were conveniently outdone by the weekly upgrade of the pseudo international accent ‘Yeah, yeah, 69.’ Our class reps in their own right, all did ‘wonderful’ jobs. That’s why they’re all best friends today. My my, soaring popularity! Minali’s obsessive compulsive habit to document every single moment of every single person’s life on film, has finally paid off for all you losers who didn’t submit a picture of yourselves for this year book!
With our superlative assembly of exceedingly practiced and endowed teachers at the helm of ship, BMS students had nothing to fear but their colourful language and prize-winning quotes and remarks. “The Ambanis, you see, well, enough said.” “I want Brrrrands! Don’t give ma gas! Don’t fart!” “Is it not??” “Eh, you want me to squeeze your b*lls or what you pisspot?” My, what an education it has been! Won’t we miss this enviable collective of management Gurus?
As we walk out today, through the same beautiful Art Walk that BRAND HR still boasts about 3 years later, our hearts are heavy and our wallets, much lighter. As we look back on the days, the months and the years that went by, only one question comes to our minds; “When can we start again?”
All the same, an entry into HRBMS. The land of projects and presentations, of 7 am lectures, of attendance and detention, of never-before-seen teachers (and their meticulously chosen flowery language), of politics, of war and controversy and of course, of an equal dosage of heart-burn and of fun.
With over 3000 students flocking the oh-so-beautiful Art Walk that BRAND HR boasts of in flip-flops and shorts only on the days of exams, it was just our pompous lot of BMS kids that dressed up (in pants and shoes, note) and woke up at 7 am (with perfectly gelled, spiked hair – in some cases hidden by a white, not to mention dirty cap) to gallantly strut our stuff for a particular Mr. Sohum’s class on a Sunday Morning. Yes. The life of a BMS kid. 75% attendance. 28 projects a year! 7 working days a week with god only knows how many sleepless nights. Sacrifices in the form of night-outs, games and sports, sleep… Life? More like death.
But of course, Marketing has taught that for anything to sell, it must be sugar coated. Death included. BMS too, had its sugar coating. Guess that’s what contributed to the mass average weight gain of 18.6 kgs per person over the last three years (thanks, Gautam A for that meticulous mathematical calculation that was a derivative function of the composite amalgamation of residual numerators). But in all seriousness, BMS had its lighter moments as well. Right from brown face paint at Lakshya to the free air tickets (to any destination in the world!!) that went begging. From the khujli of the beggar under the Phoenix flyover to the shrill shriek of 93(!) at the end of every class. The delicious aroma of Raju’s garlic chicken that drew each one away from poor Akhilesh’s class to flock onto the sturdy red NeelKamal furniture that decorated our ‘canteen’. From the countless nights spent at Leo’s after winning every single college fest that these losers threw at us to dancing with the trophy the next day. From our glorious IV’s to the teachers that brightened our every day. Thank god BMS has a sweet tooth.
The 5th floor of HR College is supposed to stink very badly. Stink of attitude. It’s surprising though, that it was hard to ever find any BMS kid on the 5th floor since they were always chasing Abhishek and Mihir who discretely stole a paneer role from someone’s plate on the terrace. But however messy our class was because of the amount we ate through the year, our college associates never seemed to have a problem with it. In fact, on the other hand, they were rather grateful that our class had nominated a jhadu wala who considered it his moral responsibility to sweep the floors with his baggy pants that hung from the bottom of his rear end.
As children, often on Saturday afternoons, we ran down for an after-lunch treat of chocolate ice-cream at a popular local hangout called Snowmans. As time passed and hopefully, so will we, nature took its course and Snowmans shut down for good. But we at HRBMS, have nothing to fear, for we have our very own in-house snowmen. These three works of art are not only white, but are also round and more importantly, cold.
Gandhiji was certainly successful in buying whatever he wanted in BMS. Check out his new engagement suit! Too bad a sense of humour was too expensive. Bollywood too, expectedly, was a major influence on the life of the average BMS kid. Talli longed for a drag on a rather passive Jai’s Benson while they both swayed to Billo’s latest item number. Of course, sports were not far behind. The He-man, the cow and Mr. Sweat battled it out for the supremacy of the EPL as Dhadda played shadow cricked through the night. What was surprising though, was how the imaginary bat and ball always managed to brake so many lamps.
A new Gucci bag often complimented the newest pair of gold Aldo sandals, but were conveniently outdone by the weekly upgrade of the pseudo international accent ‘Yeah, yeah, 69.’ Our class reps in their own right, all did ‘wonderful’ jobs. That’s why they’re all best friends today. My my, soaring popularity! Minali’s obsessive compulsive habit to document every single moment of every single person’s life on film, has finally paid off for all you losers who didn’t submit a picture of yourselves for this year book!
With our superlative assembly of exceedingly practiced and endowed teachers at the helm of ship, BMS students had nothing to fear but their colourful language and prize-winning quotes and remarks. “The Ambanis, you see, well, enough said.” “I want Brrrrands! Don’t give ma gas! Don’t fart!” “Is it not??” “Eh, you want me to squeeze your b*lls or what you pisspot?” My, what an education it has been! Won’t we miss this enviable collective of management Gurus?
As we walk out today, through the same beautiful Art Walk that BRAND HR still boasts about 3 years later, our hearts are heavy and our wallets, much lighter. As we look back on the days, the months and the years that went by, only one question comes to our minds; “When can we start again?”
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