I would be a surgeon. Yes, a doctor who operates on people. No, I am not going to withdraw my b-school applications, and take the MCAT. But if I could truly do anything I wanted, I would want to be a surgeon.
Being a doctor is one of those things that you want to do when you are a kid. You read about a doctor saving lives, and helping people, and you say to yourself that that is what you want to do when you grow up. However, growing up, all I wanted to do was to play golf for a living. And when I realized that I could not do that, I just found something that I was somewhat interested in, and where I would make solid money, a.ka. Wall Street.
I don't know when it is that I thought about being a surgeon. Not even sure why. My guess is that part of it has to do with the God complex. To me saving a person's life is as close as you can come to playing God. Not that I have any intention to be God. But to save a person's life would be pretty kool. Think about it - right now, when I look back at my day, I say, I sold ABC structured product to XYZ company, and made some $$. This certainly pales in comparison to to looking back, and thinking that I saved a guy's life. I saved someone's son, someone's husband, someone's father, someone's friend.
Come to think of it, how many of us live the dream that we envisioned as kids? I don't think anyone at the age of 12 wants to be a banker, or a trader. Or a C++ coder for that matter. Or work as a strategy consultant. Or manage a project. Or develop a trading system. Or sell one. Heck, as a 12 year old, I couldn't tell the difference between Wall Street and Ball Street. And yet, so many of us today do things that we never even wanted to do. We do jobs that we don't care about, but they get us the $$$. I read the most ironic article few months back - highly qualified doctors that end up working in healthcare banking or consulting - talk about the lure of money.
I have asked myself this a few times - why can I not be a suregon? It is not impossible, but there are several obstacles ahead. I would have to take pre-med classes, take the MCAT, go to med school, and study for 10+ years. I am not sure I have what it takes to be a surgeon - the commitment and the intelligence. Plus, leaving the $$ of Wall Street will certainly not be easy.
Maybe I should be thankful I have a job. And plus, the grass is always greener on the other side. I have a friend in med school, and he is constantly upset about the fact that he has ages to go before he will make anymore than than the minimum wage. He tells me that I should be happy to be making $$$.
Maybe he is right....
Monday, February 26, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
My Kellogg Interview
I had my Kellogg interview yesterday at a Starbucks not too far from my place. The interviewer got back to me a week after I contacted him, as he had been traveling, so I was pretty happy to just get it done at some point.
I hate interviewing at a Starbucks, but I guess once I get into the "zone" I forget where I am sitting. He showed up 20 minutes late, as his conference call went over, and apologized profusely. We talked for about 30 minutes, and the interview was very standard. He was Indian as well, and worked on Wall Street, so we had quite a fair bit in common.
The questions:
1) Tell me about yourself
2) Tell me about your current job and responsibilities - a couple of follow up questions on this
3) My long-term and short-term goals
4) Can you not reach your goals without a MBA?
5) Why Kellogg
6) My GMAT and GPA
7) Two questions about my extra curricular and volunteer activities
While I had sent him a copy of my resume, he did not have it on him. He had written down some information from my resume on a piece of paper, and wrote furiously all the time that I spoke.
I then asked him a few questions, and he gave candid answers. He graduated from Kellogg in 2003, when the economy was not doing so great, and he had been lucky to get the job that he did.
All in all, it was a pleasant experience. He told me to enjoy school, and we bid goodbye. Kellogg has already started releasing admit decisions, so it would be nice to hear from them sooner rather than later!
I hate interviewing at a Starbucks, but I guess once I get into the "zone" I forget where I am sitting. He showed up 20 minutes late, as his conference call went over, and apologized profusely. We talked for about 30 minutes, and the interview was very standard. He was Indian as well, and worked on Wall Street, so we had quite a fair bit in common.
The questions:
1) Tell me about yourself
2) Tell me about your current job and responsibilities - a couple of follow up questions on this
3) My long-term and short-term goals
4) Can you not reach your goals without a MBA?
5) Why Kellogg
6) My GMAT and GPA
7) Two questions about my extra curricular and volunteer activities
While I had sent him a copy of my resume, he did not have it on him. He had written down some information from my resume on a piece of paper, and wrote furiously all the time that I spoke.
I then asked him a few questions, and he gave candid answers. He graduated from Kellogg in 2003, when the economy was not doing so great, and he had been lucky to get the job that he did.
All in all, it was a pleasant experience. He told me to enjoy school, and we bid goodbye. Kellogg has already started releasing admit decisions, so it would be nice to hear from them sooner rather than later!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Such is Life!
Disclaimer: A long post.
I have been meaning to write this story for a while. It has been over a year that this happened, but I can still recall it well. I may not remember the details, but those details will not change the overall message.
I was going home after almost 2 years. However, it had not been long enough to make me forget the curse - that of sitting next to babies who cry the entire 20 hour flight back home. Hence, as I found myself sitting next to a young woman, I thanked my stars. However, it seems that I had thanked too soon, as I soon discovered that this young woman was also sobbing away to glory.
Not wanting to pry, I said nothing and began to read my book. She continued crying quietly, facing toward the window, in an attempt to conceal her despair. A good 30 minutes or so after we had been in the air, she wiped her tears, composed herself and said hello. As I saw her face, I saw nothing extraordinary. She was normal looking - there was nothing striking about her. Just another face in a sea of people. A face that I would forget as soon as I departed the plane.
We started talking about nothing in particular. Learned that she lived in Connecticut with her hubby and was going home to Calcutta. I was reading "The KiteRunner", and she said that she had been wanting to read it as well.
Soon they brought out drinks, and I asked for a beer, while she went for some white wine. As we got some more alcohol in our system, the conversation became a little more interesting. I learned that she used to work in the media industry in Delhi, and was recently married. I, as always, kept the discussion focused on her, revealing little besides frivolous details about myself.
As I jested with her that she could not even leave her husband for a few weeks without crying a bucket, she suddenly fell silent. Aware that I had touched a sensitive nerve, I apologized quickly. She said nothing, but I could see tears forming in her jet black eyes.
I kicked myself. She turned to the window again, but after a few minutes said that leaving her husband was not why she was crying. She said that it was due to her son. Over the course of the next hour, downing a few bottles of wine, she told me why she was crying.
When she was 20 years old, her parents had gotten her married. It was an arranged marriage. She had barely met the guy once. Her parents had decided that it was the right time for her, the guy was from a good family, and that was all that mattered. Things had been bad from the start. He was clearly not ready to get married yet. He was still in that phase where his only purpose was to have a good time. He spent the majority of his time hanging out with his friends while she twiddled her thumbs at home. Then they had a son.
It was the turning point of her life. She forgot all her grievances toward her life, and spent all her time caring for him. However, the responsibility of a child broke the camel's back, and her husband filed for divorce. She was only happy to get out the stifling marriage.
A couple years of staying at her parents' house drove her to desperation. She just could not spend her life living at her parent's place. She made the very difficult decision to leave her son behind with her parents, and moved to Delhi for work.
The change did her good. Although she terribly missed her son, the sense of achievement - her own apartment, a new car - helped heal some of the scars. One night at a friend's birthday party, she met this guy and romance blossomed. He worked overseas, and was gone after two weeks, but their relationship continued on the phone. She knew that the next step, a.k.a marriage full of perils - not only was she a divorcee, she also had a son. A divorce is still a taboo in India, and a child from a previous marriage only adds to it.
However, her worries were unneeded as he proposed to her after a few months of meeting her. His parents had been against it, and still were, but he had decided to follow his heart. At last, it seemed that things were finally heading in the right direction.
However, life had another unpleasant surprise for her. Her ex-husband had filed a petition in the court preventing her from taking the boy out of the country. It was not out of love, as in the past two years, he had barely seen his son (who was still staying with her mother) two times. It was out of pure spite - she had moved on in life, and he had not. He wanted to hurt her, and he had decided to do it in the nastiest way possible.
She had moved to the US with her husband, and was now engaged in a court battle to get her son to his new family. She had been back to India three times in the past one year, and each time the case had gotten murkier and murkier. The only saving grace was her new husband, who was determined to stand by her through it all.
The money and the emotional pain aside, her life in the US had been at a standstill. She had not started working, as she did not know when the court would schedule a hearing and she would have to rush back home. She was going home for yet another court hearing, and the hopelessness of the situation had overwhelmed her.
On one hand, was her new husband, who had been patient and understanding through all this, and on the other, was the man in her life, who refused to let her be happy. Such is life.
I don't know why she shared that story with me. To me it was a very personal story, and not something you would share with someone you met on a plane. I took her number, but forgot all about her in the excitement of going home. I don't even remember her face, or her name. But I hope that things will turn out right for her.
I have been meaning to write this story for a while. It has been over a year that this happened, but I can still recall it well. I may not remember the details, but those details will not change the overall message.
I was going home after almost 2 years. However, it had not been long enough to make me forget the curse - that of sitting next to babies who cry the entire 20 hour flight back home. Hence, as I found myself sitting next to a young woman, I thanked my stars. However, it seems that I had thanked too soon, as I soon discovered that this young woman was also sobbing away to glory.
Not wanting to pry, I said nothing and began to read my book. She continued crying quietly, facing toward the window, in an attempt to conceal her despair. A good 30 minutes or so after we had been in the air, she wiped her tears, composed herself and said hello. As I saw her face, I saw nothing extraordinary. She was normal looking - there was nothing striking about her. Just another face in a sea of people. A face that I would forget as soon as I departed the plane.
We started talking about nothing in particular. Learned that she lived in Connecticut with her hubby and was going home to Calcutta. I was reading "The KiteRunner", and she said that she had been wanting to read it as well.
Soon they brought out drinks, and I asked for a beer, while she went for some white wine. As we got some more alcohol in our system, the conversation became a little more interesting. I learned that she used to work in the media industry in Delhi, and was recently married. I, as always, kept the discussion focused on her, revealing little besides frivolous details about myself.
As I jested with her that she could not even leave her husband for a few weeks without crying a bucket, she suddenly fell silent. Aware that I had touched a sensitive nerve, I apologized quickly. She said nothing, but I could see tears forming in her jet black eyes.
I kicked myself. She turned to the window again, but after a few minutes said that leaving her husband was not why she was crying. She said that it was due to her son. Over the course of the next hour, downing a few bottles of wine, she told me why she was crying.
When she was 20 years old, her parents had gotten her married. It was an arranged marriage. She had barely met the guy once. Her parents had decided that it was the right time for her, the guy was from a good family, and that was all that mattered. Things had been bad from the start. He was clearly not ready to get married yet. He was still in that phase where his only purpose was to have a good time. He spent the majority of his time hanging out with his friends while she twiddled her thumbs at home. Then they had a son.
It was the turning point of her life. She forgot all her grievances toward her life, and spent all her time caring for him. However, the responsibility of a child broke the camel's back, and her husband filed for divorce. She was only happy to get out the stifling marriage.
A couple years of staying at her parents' house drove her to desperation. She just could not spend her life living at her parent's place. She made the very difficult decision to leave her son behind with her parents, and moved to Delhi for work.
The change did her good. Although she terribly missed her son, the sense of achievement - her own apartment, a new car - helped heal some of the scars. One night at a friend's birthday party, she met this guy and romance blossomed. He worked overseas, and was gone after two weeks, but their relationship continued on the phone. She knew that the next step, a.k.a marriage full of perils - not only was she a divorcee, she also had a son. A divorce is still a taboo in India, and a child from a previous marriage only adds to it.
However, her worries were unneeded as he proposed to her after a few months of meeting her. His parents had been against it, and still were, but he had decided to follow his heart. At last, it seemed that things were finally heading in the right direction.
However, life had another unpleasant surprise for her. Her ex-husband had filed a petition in the court preventing her from taking the boy out of the country. It was not out of love, as in the past two years, he had barely seen his son (who was still staying with her mother) two times. It was out of pure spite - she had moved on in life, and he had not. He wanted to hurt her, and he had decided to do it in the nastiest way possible.
She had moved to the US with her husband, and was now engaged in a court battle to get her son to his new family. She had been back to India three times in the past one year, and each time the case had gotten murkier and murkier. The only saving grace was her new husband, who was determined to stand by her through it all.
The money and the emotional pain aside, her life in the US had been at a standstill. She had not started working, as she did not know when the court would schedule a hearing and she would have to rush back home. She was going home for yet another court hearing, and the hopelessness of the situation had overwhelmed her.
On one hand, was her new husband, who had been patient and understanding through all this, and on the other, was the man in her life, who refused to let her be happy. Such is life.
I don't know why she shared that story with me. To me it was a very personal story, and not something you would share with someone you met on a plane. I took her number, but forgot all about her in the excitement of going home. I don't even remember her face, or her name. But I hope that things will turn out right for her.
Monday, February 19, 2007
What is wrong with Indian Men?
One of my friends demanded the explanation from me yesterday as she tried to hold back her tears. Let me explain. Megan is an American who had been dating this Indian guy, Amit, for about 2 years. She is pursuing a graduate degree in some medical related field in the city, and he, as usual, is a techie. She is 27, and he is 30.
2 weeks ago, Amit announced that he is going to India for a couple of months to sort out a few things. Primarily to assess what are his opportunities like in the booming city of Bangalore. She was fine with it, except that he also mentioned that Megan should not wait for him. Megan was not quite sure of what to make of it. When she pressed him, Amit admitted that his parents have been wanting him to get married for a while, and they have a few girls lined for him to see when he goes home. He also added that he had always thought that he would marry an Indian.
She was shocked. In their two years of going out, Amit had never once mentioned anything of this sort. While there had been no firm commitments on either side, she had always assumed that unless they broke up, he would propose in the next year or so. She was certainly upset over the breakup. However, her main gripe was that was she was cheated. Amit may not have lied to her, but he certainly did not tell her the entire truth either. She had just been a temporary arrangement for him, a white girlfriend that he could tell his friends about while it came "time" for him to get married.
As she demanded that I explain his actions to her, I recalled that this was not the first time I was put in such a situation. I can remember at least two instances. An Asian friend of mine had dated an Indian guy for over 4 years, and he had told her one day that he cannot go against his parents' wishes. And another American friend of mine had dated this Indian guy for a few months and he dumped her over e-mail. His reason - his grandparents were going to be living with him for the next six months.
Being an Indian male, I certainly understand the psyche of Indian men and the pressure of the family that we all live under. Family ties mean more than anything else in India, and to marry a non-Indian is perhaps the fastest route to ostracize yourself from the society. However, in this age, where we continuously harp about the Mittal's, Nooyi's and Tata's exploits, don't you think it is time to make some other changes too?
P.S. Would love to know if others have similar experiences to share.
2 weeks ago, Amit announced that he is going to India for a couple of months to sort out a few things. Primarily to assess what are his opportunities like in the booming city of Bangalore. She was fine with it, except that he also mentioned that Megan should not wait for him. Megan was not quite sure of what to make of it. When she pressed him, Amit admitted that his parents have been wanting him to get married for a while, and they have a few girls lined for him to see when he goes home. He also added that he had always thought that he would marry an Indian.
She was shocked. In their two years of going out, Amit had never once mentioned anything of this sort. While there had been no firm commitments on either side, she had always assumed that unless they broke up, he would propose in the next year or so. She was certainly upset over the breakup. However, her main gripe was that was she was cheated. Amit may not have lied to her, but he certainly did not tell her the entire truth either. She had just been a temporary arrangement for him, a white girlfriend that he could tell his friends about while it came "time" for him to get married.
As she demanded that I explain his actions to her, I recalled that this was not the first time I was put in such a situation. I can remember at least two instances. An Asian friend of mine had dated an Indian guy for over 4 years, and he had told her one day that he cannot go against his parents' wishes. And another American friend of mine had dated this Indian guy for a few months and he dumped her over e-mail. His reason - his grandparents were going to be living with him for the next six months.
Being an Indian male, I certainly understand the psyche of Indian men and the pressure of the family that we all live under. Family ties mean more than anything else in India, and to marry a non-Indian is perhaps the fastest route to ostracize yourself from the society. However, in this age, where we continuously harp about the Mittal's, Nooyi's and Tata's exploits, don't you think it is time to make some other changes too?
P.S. Would love to know if others have similar experiences to share.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
And the DING from Wharton!
So got a ding from Wharton. It is not a big deal, considering that it is a solid third (behind HBS and Stanford), and has some very talented people applying to it. What truly suprises me is that I did not even get an interview.
Each school has its own ideology of the interviewing process. Wharton is one of those that considers the interview as just one more data point, and interviews close to half of its class. Since about 7,000 people apply to the school every year, I find it difficult to believe that I don't even rank amongst the top 3,500 candidates.
All my colleagues and friends, several of them post HBS and Wharton, find it very strange too. My 3.9 GPA, 99 percentile GMAT and 3 years of Wall Street experience at top-tier investment bank should have hopefully merited me an interview. However, I do understand the process is very subjective, and there are a few factors that would work against me. The Indian male probably did not help me chances. And my work experience only being half of the average at Wharton could have also hurt my candidacy.
I am not sure I will be going to b-school this fall (for reasons I will share later), and may not go ever. Regardless, I will solicit feedback from the Wharton people. Maybe they will tell me what I can do better.
On another note, I have an interview invite from Kellogg, but my alumni interviewer seems to be MIA. I guess I need to give him another few days before I call the school.
Each school has its own ideology of the interviewing process. Wharton is one of those that considers the interview as just one more data point, and interviews close to half of its class. Since about 7,000 people apply to the school every year, I find it difficult to believe that I don't even rank amongst the top 3,500 candidates.
All my colleagues and friends, several of them post HBS and Wharton, find it very strange too. My 3.9 GPA, 99 percentile GMAT and 3 years of Wall Street experience at top-tier investment bank should have hopefully merited me an interview. However, I do understand the process is very subjective, and there are a few factors that would work against me. The Indian male probably did not help me chances. And my work experience only being half of the average at Wharton could have also hurt my candidacy.
I am not sure I will be going to b-school this fall (for reasons I will share later), and may not go ever. Regardless, I will solicit feedback from the Wharton people. Maybe they will tell me what I can do better.
On another note, I have an interview invite from Kellogg, but my alumni interviewer seems to be MIA. I guess I need to give him another few days before I call the school.
Friday, February 16, 2007
44 Years Ago
It has been a long time. So long that he has to think hard to remember the details. He was in 10th grade at the time. It was Valentine’s day and this girl he had known for a while had asked him out. He had reluctantly agreed. The date had been ok. They had spoken on the phone a few times after that, but two weeks later, they had agreed that it was not going to work out.
They had lost touch and he had almost forgotten about her. Till he received a card on his birthday several months later. She said she had fallen in love with him. He did not understand. He called her up. He thought they had mutually agreed to not see each other. She replied that he had suggested it, and she did not have the courage to say otherwise. She had loved him for years, and had mustered up the courage that she did not know she had and had asked him out. Only for him to suggest that it would not work out. She had been crushed.
He was just 16. He did not like her, but the idea that someone loved him fascinated him. They agreed to start seeing each other again. He discovered that she was nice. He thought he remembered a lot of things about her. But all he could recall was that she was nice. And she loved him too much. He knew this and used this to always get her to agree with him. On everything.
Over time, he began to develop a liking for her. It was difficult to not to. She soon became his best friend. They spent hours talking on the phone with each other. There were times when they did not have anything more to talk about, and yet he wanted to stay on the phone with her.
She once asked him if he would always be with her. He had replied yes. He had fallen in love with her. He could not imagine finding someone who would love him more than she did. Time flew by, and soon it was time to go to college.
He was going far away to a different country. They would not see each other very often. They had taken vows to remain in touch and marry someday. It was obvious that it would be more difficult for her than it would be for him. It always is more difficult for the one who stays behind.
Few months later, she loved him even more. And he stopped loving her. He was surrounded by his new friends and was living a new life. He had loved her when she had been around. But now that she wasn’t, he did not miss her.
When he told her of this, she was devastated. She had always loved him more than he loved her. He felt for her, but he needed to be honest with her. He decided that it had just been puppy love.
His life went on. He dated different women, but he did not want to spend the rest of his life with any of them. This continued after college. His friends would set him up, and after a few months, he would find something lacking. His friends started getting married, and soon he was the only single one. He could never find someone who loved him as much as she did.
At 60, life had passed him by. He had been very successful in life, but the happiness that true love brings had always evaded him. Walking in the park on V-day’s eve, a young couple walking arm-in-arm had reminded him of that day when she had asked him out 44 years ago. If only she would do it again….
They had lost touch and he had almost forgotten about her. Till he received a card on his birthday several months later. She said she had fallen in love with him. He did not understand. He called her up. He thought they had mutually agreed to not see each other. She replied that he had suggested it, and she did not have the courage to say otherwise. She had loved him for years, and had mustered up the courage that she did not know she had and had asked him out. Only for him to suggest that it would not work out. She had been crushed.
He was just 16. He did not like her, but the idea that someone loved him fascinated him. They agreed to start seeing each other again. He discovered that she was nice. He thought he remembered a lot of things about her. But all he could recall was that she was nice. And she loved him too much. He knew this and used this to always get her to agree with him. On everything.
Over time, he began to develop a liking for her. It was difficult to not to. She soon became his best friend. They spent hours talking on the phone with each other. There were times when they did not have anything more to talk about, and yet he wanted to stay on the phone with her.
She once asked him if he would always be with her. He had replied yes. He had fallen in love with her. He could not imagine finding someone who would love him more than she did. Time flew by, and soon it was time to go to college.
He was going far away to a different country. They would not see each other very often. They had taken vows to remain in touch and marry someday. It was obvious that it would be more difficult for her than it would be for him. It always is more difficult for the one who stays behind.
Few months later, she loved him even more. And he stopped loving her. He was surrounded by his new friends and was living a new life. He had loved her when she had been around. But now that she wasn’t, he did not miss her.
When he told her of this, she was devastated. She had always loved him more than he loved her. He felt for her, but he needed to be honest with her. He decided that it had just been puppy love.
His life went on. He dated different women, but he did not want to spend the rest of his life with any of them. This continued after college. His friends would set him up, and after a few months, he would find something lacking. His friends started getting married, and soon he was the only single one. He could never find someone who loved him as much as she did.
At 60, life had passed him by. He had been very successful in life, but the happiness that true love brings had always evaded him. Walking in the park on V-day’s eve, a young couple walking arm-in-arm had reminded him of that day when she had asked him out 44 years ago. If only she would do it again….
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Great things about being at Home
There are tons, but these are the ones that came to mind right now....
1. Sitting in the backseat of the car and not concerned about where I am headed
1. Sitting in the backseat of the car and not concerned about where I am headed
2. Going everywhere without a penny in my pocket (mom and/or dad always flank me)
3. Opening the fridge and always finding something delicious to eat
4. Finishing your meal and not having to worry about who will take care of the dishes
5. Mom asking me what I want for breakfast an hour before I wake up so that it can be ready when I actually wake up
6. Never having to worry about e-mail/missed calls and who is at the door
7. Being constantly asked my mom and dad what do I want for each meal of the day
8. Talking to all my relatives (but for no longer than 5 minutes)
9. Seeing my dog
10. Chilling with my parents
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
The Rain
Disclaimer: Non MBA Related Post
He sat in his study watching the rain clean the earth of all its surroundings. It reminded him of the day when he had met her. It was pouring, and they had both taken refuge in the quaint coffee shop. There was only one table available, and they had reluctantly agreed to share it. He could not remember what started the conversation, but they were soon engaged in a lively discussion about nothing in particular.
It had been the start of the most whirlwind period of his life. They had started dating, were engaged 6 months later, and married by the year end. The funny part of it was that he had never thought he would get married. At 40, he had dated his share of women, and even been engaged twice, but things had never worked out. And when he had met her, it was as if he had been searching for her all his life.
The rain, which was continuing with the fury of a madman, also reminded him of one more day. The day after their wedding, when they had been returning from a store, and a truck had lost control and rammed into the passenger side.
It was not meant to be....
He sat in his study watching the rain clean the earth of all its surroundings. It reminded him of the day when he had met her. It was pouring, and they had both taken refuge in the quaint coffee shop. There was only one table available, and they had reluctantly agreed to share it. He could not remember what started the conversation, but they were soon engaged in a lively discussion about nothing in particular.
It had been the start of the most whirlwind period of his life. They had started dating, were engaged 6 months later, and married by the year end. The funny part of it was that he had never thought he would get married. At 40, he had dated his share of women, and even been engaged twice, but things had never worked out. And when he had met her, it was as if he had been searching for her all his life.
The rain, which was continuing with the fury of a madman, also reminded him of one more day. The day after their wedding, when they had been returning from a store, and a truck had lost control and rammed into the passenger side.
It was not meant to be....
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
My Chicago Interview
I had my Chicago interview yesterday, and on the whole, I think it went fairly well. We met up at my interviewer's workplace, and upfront he told me me that the interview is supposed to be 30 minutes, and he wants to stick to that. He was extremely personable and instantly put me at ease.
Unlike my Columbia interview, which lasted over an hour and a half and was all over the place, my Chicago interview was very structured. My interviewer told that there were standard questions that he was supposed to ask, and he had written down some questions.
The questions that I remember (not necessarily in that order):
1) Why do you want to do your MBA at Chicago?
2) Why do you want to pursue a MBA?
3) Tell me about a time when you had a disagreement with someone. How was it resolved?
4) Tell me about a time when you failed at something.
5) I don't want you to talk me through your resume, but pick two things that you are most proud of on your resume. (I liked this question - gave me a chance to speak to a couple of things, rather than just give a summary)
6) What I thought about the "cheap lending" in the market, and if the economy was poised for a "soft landing"? (We both work on Wall Street, so this sort of made sense. But I doubt that this was a standard question).
At this point, we had been talking for 30 minutes. He then asked me if I had any questions. I asked him some about his background, and his experiences at Chicago. We had a good rapport, and I think both of us had a good time.
He did not give me any feedback on what he thought about my candidacy (and I thought it best to not ask), but he only had positive things to say throughout the interview, so hopefully that means that the interview went well.
In hindsight, there were a few things that I could have done better, but I guess that is always the case. My Columbia and Chicago interviews were worlds apart, but I think it has given me good perspective and will come in handy if I have any more interviews.
I do not have my Wharton invite yet yet, and there are not many days left to go. And no word on HBS and Stanford - I guess its still a little early to expect anything from them, but it will not be so in 2 more weeks!
Unlike my Columbia interview, which lasted over an hour and a half and was all over the place, my Chicago interview was very structured. My interviewer told that there were standard questions that he was supposed to ask, and he had written down some questions.
The questions that I remember (not necessarily in that order):
1) Why do you want to do your MBA at Chicago?
2) Why do you want to pursue a MBA?
3) Tell me about a time when you had a disagreement with someone. How was it resolved?
4) Tell me about a time when you failed at something.
5) I don't want you to talk me through your resume, but pick two things that you are most proud of on your resume. (I liked this question - gave me a chance to speak to a couple of things, rather than just give a summary)
6) What I thought about the "cheap lending" in the market, and if the economy was poised for a "soft landing"? (We both work on Wall Street, so this sort of made sense. But I doubt that this was a standard question).
At this point, we had been talking for 30 minutes. He then asked me if I had any questions. I asked him some about his background, and his experiences at Chicago. We had a good rapport, and I think both of us had a good time.
He did not give me any feedback on what he thought about my candidacy (and I thought it best to not ask), but he only had positive things to say throughout the interview, so hopefully that means that the interview went well.
In hindsight, there were a few things that I could have done better, but I guess that is always the case. My Columbia and Chicago interviews were worlds apart, but I think it has given me good perspective and will come in handy if I have any more interviews.
I do not have my Wharton invite yet yet, and there are not many days left to go. And no word on HBS and Stanford - I guess its still a little early to expect anything from them, but it will not be so in 2 more weeks!
Monday, February 05, 2007
Columbia Interview
So interviewed with Columbia....on Thursday. The interviewer has already submitted his evaluation, so all that I can do now is wait. I will write a post on the interview, but I think I will wait till I hear back from the school. I think the decision will help me evaluate the interview in a better light.
At any rate, it was good learning experience, and I think it has prepared me well for my Chicago interview, which is in a few hours from now.
Good luck to me....!
At any rate, it was good learning experience, and I think it has prepared me well for my Chicago interview, which is in a few hours from now.
Good luck to me....!
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