Sulagna (PGP 2011) & Shuvabrata (PGP 2010)

Imagine you have a crush on someone (hard at our expected age, I know). And you finally muster the courage to write a letter to them. What should it ideally contain?
Whatever it is, the words industry, competitors or employee probably aren’t part of it.
Or so you’d think…
It was 2009. I was new to IIMA, fresh out of home, and finding everything overwhelming – you know, the usual fresher-in-an-IIM experience. Shuvabrata was a well-recognised name on campus. I admired him as a tuchcha for his quiet confidence, his lack of interest in showing off (Unbelievable, right?), but most importantly – his complete indifference to what people thought of him (No, really!). I wanted to be friends with him and … to see where things would go.
But the glitch was, he was (is) quiet and introverted, not your “let me help you” tuchcha next door. So I thought I’d try to break the ice with the oldest trick in the (IIMA dating) book – asking for career advice.

But my email went unanswered. The days passed by at a breakneck pace characteristic of fachcha year. And I didn’t give much thought to him until I made a mistake. I was just trying to send a mail to a friend, which mistakenly went to him. No. Honestly, this wasn’t deliberate. As you might’ve guessed – but even so, he should’ve taken the opportunity to lengthen the conversation with a fachchi with that carefully chosen DP, right? Especially after all those smilies!

He still gets blamed from time to time for the cold shoulder he gave me. OK, so the serendipitous mail didn’t work. Let’s try face to face.

I attended his Rem … on something. I was sitting right in the front row. He says that was the first time he actually noticed me and claims to still remember the top I wore that day. Corny, I know.

I tried, again, unsuccessfully to get the conversation going. But by an extraordinary quirk of luck, it ended up in another hilarious faux- pas.

That’s right, I ended up asking him for advice on a firm he didn’t work for.

Then one day he pinged me on Facebook, one thing led to another, and we started flirting online. Now I know you’re not going to believe this, but that very moment I knew. I knew that the guy I have secretly liked for all these past few months but never managed to talk to, was finally mine forever. Go ahead. Laugh your head out.

I was smitten by the way he flirted. By his confidence.His independent thinking. We started dating. And then I was dumped.

It hurt. And I let it. May be because I was so mad, I couldn’t make any attempts to wish it away by telling myself, “I’m fine” and “He’s not so important”. Cause these would be lies.

I avoided all things even remotely related to him like plague. I avoided the restaurants we visited. Even whole parts of the city. The music I used to listen to during that period. And I don’t know if you will believe this – even discussions of the industry he worked in.

Eventually… I got into a rebound relationship. (Yes, I did make that mistake against the good advice of all my friends and family.)

There was just this tiny bit of saving grace – this was with the same guy who had dumped me. One year later, I married him.

Five memorable years have since passed. None of them perfect, but each better than the last. There has been pain, excitement, anger, exhilaration, bad luck, good luck, and a whole lot of learning.

IIM Ahmedabad is by-and-large considered a one way ticket to career advancement. But for us, meeting our soul-mate on campus is a priceless “value addition” to our lives for which we’d forever be indebted to our beloved alma mater.