Daily Archives: July 5, 2006
Business Today B School survey
madhukar gives it a “F” grade 
)
This warning about the validity of results is even more appreciated, since the shortlisted Top 30 “Best” B-Schools of India also include at least two “high decibel” advertisers:
1. two campuses of a ponytail B-school, which carries out full-page ads (with a small print at the bottom mentioning that it is beyond the “purview of AICTE and UGC”… or something of that nature), meaning: its degree/diploma will not be accepted as a post-graduate qualification in India or abroad (and, perhaps also to get a work visa in some of the countries).
&
2. a certain B-School in the NCR region which advertises itself as the “No-1 Private B-School” on TV, whose accredition for its MBA course was revoked last year
… Which perhaps also reflects how the survey was conducted:About how the survey was conducted, the magazine describes:
“In the first phase, we shortlisted the 30 B-schools that were to be ranked. How? By asking MBA wannabes and recruiters to list the B-schools they would consider applying to (in the case of former) and recruiting from (for the latter).”
Hmm… er… Uh??
Isn’t there some circular logic here? – Or am I missing something?
I mean, aren’t these surveys meant to help the “MBA wannabes” to make a rational choice? And maybe even the “recruiters” to decide on the B-Schools to source from?
But this survey asks them to list the B-Schools they would “consider applying to” or “recruiting from”, so that it can tell them which B-Schools they should “consider applying to” or “recruiting from” !!!
On football…
GreatBong has a ball remembering Maradona, and that’s my abiding image of World Cup football as well:
Blame this on the way I was initiated into soccer—my first idol was the greatest dribbler, mid-field general and larger-than-life character of the modern football game: the indubitablly God-like Maradonna. There has never been one player who has dominated a tournament so much as Maradonna did the 1986 World Cup. This man was everywhere, defending behind Neri Pompido (the Argentine keeper), splitting defences with his precise through-balls to the feet of Burruchaga and Valdano and then, sometimes, just to show that he was the greatest, running through defences like an unstoppable juggernaut, caring little for the expectant Argentine forwards.
My abiding memories of him would be his inspired run through the legendary Belgium defence—dribbling like a maniac, the Belgians tripping and shoving and Maradonna maintaining his balance all through (the man could not usually be brought down unless he wanted to), his drawing three Brazilan defenders away and giving Claudio Cannigia a pass in front of goal (this was in the 1990 World Cup where Brazil dominated the match throughout but were undone by this bit of magic at the very end) and of course his Hand of God goal and the blitzkrieging run through the English defence that followed “that” goal. Not only his football but everything about this man was dramatic: his hand and facial gestures at the referee, his exaggerated “dives”—something he did with greater frequency as he got older and his out-of-control off-field activities (drugs and mafia connections).
Looking back
Anumita reflects on a lecherous professor and wonders:
We were ashamed that Mr K thought us to be unsure and not ready yet to follow our paths. It embarassed us when M came back from sharing his bed one day and said that Mr K has offered to ‘pick everybody’s cherries.’
“Your friends need to loosen up. I bet they haven’t been with any men. It’s time they know what life is about. Get them to me and I could help pick their cherries.” Exact words that were told to 20 year old M, who was the real writer among us and kept telling us “you need to experience to write.”
It infuriates me to think he could be still sleeping around with girls his daughter’s age and some naive dumb girl must be waiting for intellect to get tranferred from him to her. But I hope one day there will be someone who will break his nuts before he can pick any cherries.
