Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Impostor’s On “Inspirational Hunt”

Last Sunday I and two friends, two other success aspirants, contemplated over our prevailing indolence and lassitude and concluded that we needed some stimulation to do away our sluggishness and start out to prepare to prepare to be prepared for the occasion called life. So we the young dreamers of becoming a great manager, a shrewd businessman or a high risk-taking entrepreneur searched for some stimulant. Finally we the wannabe the next Jack Welch, the next Warren Buffet and the next Richard Branson unanimously came to a decision. We decided to visit the campus of one of the premium Business School at national rank which happens to be at a local distance from our university.

After guzzling a good amount of fuel and raucously howling over few kilometers the auto rickshaw dropped us at a fair enough distance from the main entrance yet demanded full disbursement of the high enough fare. We walked the joining distance. Rather say, we sauntered, enthralled even by the peripheral boundaries. While we sauntered, few guys and even fewer gals swiftly passed by. Relative to their pace we appeared akin to an imprudent toddler ignorant that he was perambulating on a race track while the race was still on. Each passer by exuded confidence in steps, blazed shiny dreams in eyes and sanguine hope on face.

We paused a while facing the entrance, now mesmerized with the boulevard lying down. A long spotless and pothole less wide road bordered by, inverted conical shaped, shady green trees, each faithfully impossible to tell apart from others and thus communicated the consummate dexterity and acute meticulousness of the gardener. It appeared to be welcoming us and we responded according to our presumptions and stepped inwards only to be blocked by the guard or say an army sentinel trained to unwelcome the unfamiliar and uninvited faces.

Seeing his grim face, face to face and looking into his cold eyes, eye to eye, and affronted by a lofty depressing build silhouetted by a striking concourse was like being waked up in-between a marvelous dream with lots of blonds and brunettes. Though he did not voiced a sole word, yet every nuance on his grim face with cold eyes on a lofty depressing build tacitly conveyed us that he was interested to know the purpose of our visit, of we the unfamiliar faces in his very own very familiar workplace. I inanely told him that we have to go in, as if so far he was oblivious of this very key detail. He returned back a laconic ‘What for?’. The way in which he terse, made it apparent that lacking any defined intention we were not allowed in.

While I was busy googling my mind for a plausible excuse, one of my ambitious friend rambled ‘We have to meet someone in’. Next obvious question was ‘who?’. But this one coming from another individual, whose uniform and intonated accent certified him as a senior to the sentinel. This time I didn’t troubled googling out a suitable name rather I gawked at my ambitious and liar friend. He was an adept liar indeed; within nanoseconds he baptized the nameless virtual person as Vinay Pathak (a product of nanotechnology). But to our shock the senior associate happened to have a record of each student with all minutiae.

He offered us the database to figure out the dorm and room number of ‘Vinay Pathak’. We tensely drew nearer. My ambitious adept liar friend explored the list to find any ‘Vinay’ or any ‘Pathak’. He stopped at a name ‘Bijen Patnayak’, turned to me and asked ‘Saurabh. Was his name Bijen Pathak or Bijen Patnayak’. I silently admired his intelligence and said ‘I am certain of Bijen but not of patnayak’. Luckily the semi deaf guard and his even hearing impaired senior failed to appreciate the difference between ‘Vinay’ and ‘Bijen’.

So finally we were apprised of his dorm number (D-53) and courteously welcomed into the campus. Though we didn’t bother to meet this savior name, yet every face which I witnessed in made me wonder if he was Bijen Patnayak. Anyway we were back to business and crammed our vacant fuel reservoir with loads of motivating fuel, and swiftly (no sauntering) leaved.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nice one. Your adept liar friend must be Saurabh Gupta I guess.
But don't you think your authentic reason would have worked?

Saurabh Rai said...

Alas your guess is wrong.
About authentic reason chances are may be you are right, but why to take unnecessary chances.