MBA for the Mafia Read online



  MBA for the

  Mafia

  Copyright © 2014 by Kunal Sharma.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  To order additional copies of this book, contact

  [email protected]

  www.fyibulletin.com/mafia

  Contents

  Acknowledgements10

  A Night for a Hunt16

  The Best Job for an MBA19

  Hit the Ground Running24

  A Whiff of the Alluring31

  Suffering the Grind34

  No Night for Rookies42

  Know Thy Co-Workers48

  IIT and then IIM54

  Papa and the Hot Potato59

  Nakul’s Financier63

  As Good as a Replay68

  Pigeonholed72

  With a Little Help from My Friends75

  Bottles and Models79

  The After Party87

  The First Day of the Rest of Your Life93

  Pencil Nose97

  Playground108

  Friday115

  Night Lovers122

  A Million Dollar Startup126

  The Purist131

  Retrospection135

  The Conference Call141

  Employee Incentive146

  The Planning for the Face Off150

  Blessings155

  A Time to Plant and a Time to Reap159

  A Time to Change169

  Talukdar175

  A New Page184

  Ever After190

  About the Author199

  For Late Shri I.D. Sharma, IFS

  Acknowledgements

  The only time in my life when I had a Godlike feeling was the moment that I completed the final manuscript of this work. I had just created a universe, set its rules and ordered the inhabitants around. I also decided their fates. Then, after a few minutes of blushing from ear to ear, I realized that I was sweating. I had begun to weep then. For a while, I was being served a cocktail of feelings as I reflected on the many nights that I sat click clacking on my laptop, creating and defining Nakul’s world. I wiped my tears and looked around to make sure no one had witnessed this panorama of emotions while the magical moment faded away to give way to all that is real.

  Was this book a solo effort? I don’t believe so. In many ways, writing this was a journey comprising many a roller coaster ride. The ticket to these rides was expensive. My wife Aditi vouched for the expense in the form of her assistance with freeing up my time in whatever way she could. She was ably assisted by my parents who seized the busiest job of all: taking charge of our toddler, Sannidhya. The effort was further facilitated by others. They held my hand through Nakul’s arduous journey. Foremost of all, my brothers Tushar, Aayush, Gaurav and Karan who’ve been active critics of the plot, the language, my one-time haggardly beard, and basically anything that they presumed to be out of place. My aunts Anju and Shefali, along with my mother, are an example of an airtight friendship that would put the bonds between other famous friendships to shame. The sisterhood was nurtured patiently by my maternal grandmother. I am proud of that. I am also proud of my friends and I would like to take this opportunity to thank some of them: Nishant Katoch, Asif Equbal, Soami Bhatnagar, Meirisiyang, Ayaz Shaikh, Paras Mantri, Kushal Bhammar, Sandeep Banerjee, John Kunning, Maharnav Patir, Prof. A. Shipilov, Hetroy Stephane, Subhrangshu Sarkar, Vaibhav Soparkar, Antonis Pantazopoulos, Sachin Dev, Sushil Singh, Sharad Tiwari, Manoj Poonia, Raghu Ballal, Jose Paiva, Subhajyoti Paul, Vikram Mohan, Karan Jain, Sumeet Chopra, Praveen Ranawat, Anil Kumar Sahu, Orly Dias, Avijit Choubey, Nirmalya Chakraborty, Atanu Rudra, Sid Chhikara and the divas: Debarati, Mousumi, Jomol and Pankaja. This book was possible because of their experiences in life. I would like to express gratitude to Mrs. Durga Rajpal and Mrs. Radha Gaur for contributing the lovely Hindi poem for this work.

  I would like to make a mention here of the writers who I’ve always considered to be the champs of writing: PG Wodehouse, Tom Sharpe and Oscar Wilde.

  Lastly, a thought for my pet turtles, Bo and Peep. I lost them due to a mistake on my part. I hope I’ll be able to put the learning to good use sometime in the future.

  And so dear readers, without further ado, let us dive into Nakul’s ambitious new world.

  Mother, when night sets in, where does the moon go?

  Where indeed go the stars?

  And mother, where do all those go whom we love so much?

  My child, the moon hides away

  So do the stars

  But my dear, our loved ones…they remain deep in our hearts

  Lullaby from Chamba, Himachal.