If there’s one thing they don’t tell you before you join an MBA program, it’s that time stops
belonging to you. As a first-year MBA student specializing in Human Resource Management,
juggling classes, assignments, and committee responsibilities becomes your daily cardio. And
somehow, in between all this chaos, you discover friendships, routines, and stories that you’ll
carry for life.
My day usually begins with the familiar metallic clank of vessels in the mess downstairs.
Breakfast is always a surprise—sometimes a pleasant one. On good days, there’s fluffy poha or
crispy dosa. On other days, there’s the infamous aloo paratha that could probably survive a
tornado. But regardless, the mess becomes the first meeting point where half-sleepy students
clutch their coffee mugs like lifelines. My friends and I laugh about the menu, complain a little,
and mentally prepare for the marathon ahead.
Classes begin early and stretch endlessly, especially the HR core papers. Understanding human
behavior, recruitment design, OB theories—while exciting—is also mentally exhausting. Some
lectures feel like TED Talks; others feel like they last nine centuries. But the discussions make it
worth it. Everyone has something to say, and debates erupt like tiny fireworks when the
professor throws an ethical dilemma at us. Even the panic before quizzes and the collective sighs
after surprise assignments become part of the routine rhythm of the day.
Being part of the literary committee is like having a creative escape tucked inside a very
corporate world. Between deadlines, we brainstorm quirky themes for competitions, edit
newsletters, and organize open mics where people read poetry that hits harder than Monday
mornings. It’s the one place where everyone drops their academic armor and simply expresses
themselves without fear of judgement or grade penalties.
As a member of the career assistance team, I get to support the process from the student side. It’s
not about secret details but about being present, encouraging peers, handling coordination, and
maintaining a calm environment. Watching seniors walk out of interviews smiling is a quiet
motivator, and it teaches you a lot about patience, professionalism, and people.
Hostel life adds its own flavor to everything. My roommate has unintentionally become my
emotional support human and my yapping partner. We rant about professors, assignments, mess
food, random drama, and life decisions till 2 AM and then scream at alarms the next morning
because we’re late again. She knows when I’m stressed before I even say anything. MBA life
would be incomplete without a roommate who listens to your existential crises and shares your
favorite snacks.
But falling sick in a hostel hits differently. The walls suddenly feel too cold, the bed too stiff, and
the food too bland. No matter how independent you try to be, illness flips a switch—you just
miss home. I find myself thinking about my mother’s warm khichdi, my dad checking my
temperature, and the comfort of my own room. But this is also where the hostel family steps in.
My roommate forces me to drink hot water, friends bring medicines and biscuits, and someone
makes sure I’m not alone. It makes you realize that even though home is far, you’re not really
without care.
Exams, of course, bring their own brand of chaos. People who’ve never spoken much suddenly
exchange notes like priceless artifacts. The library becomes a war zone of tired faces and silent
prayers. But walking out of the exam hall after writing till your fingers ache brings a strange
high—a mix of relief, exhaustion, and the excitement of freedom for the next few hours.
Amid all the deadlines and drama, there are moments that make everything
worthwhile—late-night Maggi runs, random dance sessions in the corridor, gossip over lemon
tea, and the thrill of dressing up for campus events. These small joys carry you through even the
toughest days.
With every passing week, I feel myself growing—becoming more confident, more patient, more
adaptable. Life as an HR student, a literary committee member, and part of the career assistance
team isn’t easy, but it’s meaningful. Somewhere between mess food and midnight deadlines, you
realize that this journey is shaping not just your career but your character. And even in the chaos,
you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
