A lame shitpost about Convocation.
March 30, 2019
Tiruchirappalli, Tamil Nadu
“Every University has a department, for making up reasons why psychopaths exploiting people ruthlessly is good, called economics and another department for training psychopaths how to exploit people as ruthlessly as possible called business.” I heard that from a comrade a decade ago and it feels truer now more than ever. If I meet her again, I want to hear what she has to say about b-schools, which functions with the sole purpose of doing the two aforementioned tasks.
In the last one and half years I spent in a freakhouse called b-school (they prefer the term management institute), I have felt the wonts of bourgeoisie infect me and slowly turn me into one of those unscrupulous petite bourgeoisie. I am not completely dead though. I have become an aberrant mixture of proletariat and bourgeoisie. I feel out of place everywhere, at home nowhere. Perhaps my consumerist way of life are more akin to middle class than proletariat, but the proletariat feelings clings to me, as it does for a select few lucky ones, in innumerable ways. I am a stranger and misfit alien amongst the elites. I can never be an elite. But even amongst the peasants and proletariats in my village, I feel like an émigré. Anyway, The 18 months long course was finally over and they held a graduation ceremony, which was quite grand as can be expected from them. From what I have heard, the toffs get dressed up, wear a form of academic dress - a gown that will be worn open in the front (without mortarboard in this particular biz-school), have a procession of the academic staff and graduands and a valediction before they can be handed the sheet of testamur by a porky. I am not a fan of ceremonies, especially the ones of these kind, and hence I decided to graduate in absentia. But I decided to visit as a guest and see what’s happening and also to eat the free food. Almost every graduands were feeling quite pontifical and they were so happy and excited to be conferred with the degree. It is a bit weird, but I kinda felt happy for them. 😅 Once this show was over, I went to my parents’ place to crash for a few days. They found that I was coming from a convocation, but had no certificate and marksheet. When they asked for it, I said that those sheets of paper will reach them in a few days. Just like every fucking asian petite bourgeoisie parents, they asked what my CGPA was. 😑 They are stupid fucking peasants, not some bourgeoisie, but I was ready to let that slide and hence answered them that I somehow managed to pass and that my grades are one of the lowest in the school. That’s when they said mordaciously that I was too ashamed of scoring such low marks and that’s why I couldn’t get myself to collect the certificates. Such a myopic thought. For a moment, I almost became an apologist for the b-school graduates who help the porkies to exploit these gits. SMH.