I always knew that I’d crack the apti, and graciously bow out at the technical interview stage. So I went in with the confidence of a dead man who knew he couldn’t be killed. I, almost nonchalantly, wished the two interviewers well and asked if I may take a seat. I handed them the file which contained all my mark sheets and also, due to an oversight, my AWP (I think) test paper, displaying a three on twenty-five! ‘Ignorance is bliss’ –if ever a truer statement had been made! And they merely turned the first two-three pages and hardly even glanced at them.
For sake of convenience I shall, from now on, allude to the first interviewer, a male, as ‘M I’, the second one, a female, as ‘F I’ and to yours truly, as simply ‘ME’.
The interview began:
M I: So, tell us something about yourself.
I have this fierce urge to do the classical, ‘My name is Iyer…Venkitaraman Iyer…Krishnamoorthy Venkitaraman Iyer…Nurani Krishnamoorthy Venkitaraman Iyer…’
With an incredible display of self restraint, I manage a reply to the question with a straight face.
After giving me the usual routine of ‘which is your favourite subject?’ and such other questions, we get down to business…
F I: What is a comparator?
I grope wildly in the farthest recesses of my mind, and even as I struggle so desperately, something about two inputs strikes me…
ME: It’s got two inputs; one input is reference input and other input is (the) input (as a noun), input (as a verb) to it…and I realise that there are probably a few inputs too many here. But I soldier on…The input to it is compared to the reference input and the difference in their levels accordingly yields a resultant output.
‘At last –output –a new technical term!!...I must be on a roll!!’
M I: So tell me…
I’m still basking in my glory…
M I: Ok, then…
‘Huh? Did I just miss a question completely??!!’
I give him a nod that is a somewhere between a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’.
We then turn to programming.
F I: So, you’ve done C programming in college? Write me a program to list numbers in order.
A smile starts to play on my lips -Piece of cake!
ME: Yes ma’am.
What she expects is logic to ‘sort’ a list of numbers in ascending order. But I proceed to write a piece of code merely displaying all the numbers, ‘in order’ as I understand, and that too, in a non terminating manner! It is a disastrous piece of code technique, not to mention, a completely wrong answer!
The F I gives me an incredulous look and quietly places in aside –probably to have a good laugh about it later with the other interviewers.
M I: So, you know anything about mobiles?
Bat-Mobile?!
ME: Yes sir, we will be learning it this semester.
M I: So how does it work?
Blurting out…
ME: Battery ?
The M I started to raise an eyebrow...
ME: I mean it catches the network from station… and relays it back to the station and… converts radio waves to electric waves and…then to voice waves (?!)
I am transported to another time when I was at Kalra-Shukla and our Bio sir, Prof. Ram, strode into class one early Friday morning.
We were still half asleep, when his sudden appearance rudely awakened us. It wasn’t just his sudden entry, but his looks that really alarmed us. Tight body-hugging collarless Tee with the face of a big tiger printed on it; tight blue jeans; and a three-day stubble. If this wasn’t shock enough, he started asking random people questions. One poor hapless chap was still unable to keep his eyes open and very surely, he was also picked out to be questioned. Ram sir thundered ‘What is the chemical equation for photosynthesis?’ And now the boy was widely awake ‘Sir…’ he ventured… ‘It is… C6H12O6… plus… H2O… plus…’ There was pin drop silence in the class. And then Ram sir addressed him, poker faced, betraying no emotion, ‘That, my dear sir, is the recipe for GLUCON-D!’
If I could be there now, I’d put an understanding arm around his shoulder.
Jeesez! Of all occasions to be day-dreaming! I shove the memory out of my head and get back to the matter at hand. I continue…
And then GSM or CDMA techniques are used. And SIM cards do all this, not battery.
What? ‘Not Battery !’ My head is already attributing phrases to the current situation –‘verbal diarrhoea’, ‘foot-in-mouth disease’, ‘pink-slip of…no…by tongue’... No…got to focus…
They probably have had enough of this blabbering, but decide to find out what the HR guys might have missed…
M I: Name three personalities you admire.
ME: Well…Saurav Ganguly…The Ganguly-Chappel saga is the current hot topic…‘love you Saurav, love you Chappel’, even if I risk sounding gay…’Coz, present circumstances not considering, he has really brought Indian cricket out of the doldrums…I don’t have the slightest inkling of what the word means…He has moulded this Indian outfit to gel into a cohesive fighting unit. He has marshalled his resources exceedingly well. He is an excellent leader, and yet an ardent disciple of the game...‘thank you Ravi, Harsha, Tony, etc’…He has brought the spark and spunk, back into the team…now I’m rambling…The Indian players are like water and oil, and he has converted them to liquid-sol…‘thank you, some-chemistry-sir-from-Kalra-Shukla’…
The two of them, wide-eyed, are staring at me…
M I: Interrupting me…Ok, ok. Who’s the next one?
I realize that I need to keep it a li’l concise.
ME: Roger Federer. He’s the number one in his game, and yet has his feet firmly on the ground. He is modesty personified. So extremely talented, so exceedingly humble…the poet in me is starting to take over…And last, um, Abdul Kalam…I go blank!...‘Now where did that come from!!...think man, think…who’s he? Father of the nation?’ ...He was a…‘no, he was the,… no, is the president’…he is a great visionary who sees great dreams for his beloved motherland…Oh, these ‘poetic-prose’ type statements always come handy, when you have no actual matter at hand…He is a technologically-oriented man who sees technology as a means for the technological advancement for India...
My technological disposition clearly doesn’t seem to appeal to their sense of technology.
Now the two of them have plainly lost their patience. They’ve had enough for one day…
F I: Ok. Go sit outside, and we’ll let you know the results.
I walk out with my dignity largely unscathed. It also helps, that there is no one left in the waiting area awaiting their interview results. As I pack my stuff into my bag, a lady comes out and says, ‘Fill up this form and go to the basement, where you’ll have your H.R. interviews.’
And then I land the job.
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