20 Rupees

Usually, if you get off to a bad start, your entire day is ruined. Sameer doesn’t believe in such things but this one Wednesday, everything seemed to be going wrong.

Sameer woke up late for his exam. He was supposed to reach IBA early and study with his friend, Anam, but that did not seem likely anymore. As he quickly shoved down his breakfast of toast and tea, he realized his clothes weren’t ironed. Pulling on his jeans, he searched for a clean t-shirt, but that very moment, the electricity went. Damn KESC’s scheduled load-shedding! 

As he grabbed his car keys off the computer table, his phone started silently vibrating; Anam was calling him, which meant she had reached IBA and would be furious at his tardiness.  He ignored the call hoping she’d think he was driving. Alas, driving today would not be possible as Sameer’s blue Alto refused to start; the more urgently he turned the key in the ignition, the more the car protested and spluttered. Finally, he gave up and started searching for a rickshaw. No empty rickshaw passed for 5 minutes so he realized he’d have to take the bus and end up missing the study session altogether.

As the G7 came speeding towards him, he raised a hand and jumped on before collapsing in the back seat. Thank God the bus wasn’t overflowing. He pulled out his phone and sent an SMS to Anam indicating that he was running late and how very sorry he was. She didn’t reply. Sameer put the issue out of his mind and pulled out his Financial Institutions and Markets’ textbook. Flicking through the chapter on monetary policy, he was barely conscious of the fact that the bus had stopped and two people were climbing on. Only when he heard raised voices, did he look up from the calculation of the reserve ratio.

An aged, frail woman, who had got on earlier with her adolescent (and by his looks, highly unkempt) grandson, was arguing with the conductor that she never pays the fare for her grandson. The conductor was adamant on getting the fare as the boy was old enough to be charged for it. Sameer shook his head at the strange principles people have and had half-a-mind to pay for the kid just to shut up the old woman. But as she continued screaming and abusing the conductor, Sameer realized the problem was the woman did not have 20 rupees to pay the extra fare. As waves of shock crashed over his head, Sameer sat paralyzed, watching the scene.

Here he was, completely unconcerned about a mere 20 rupees and there she was, fighting till her last breath for it. He tried to imagine what her day must have been like and couldn’t. While he was worried about his car and clothes, she was struggling to make ends meet. The darkness of her life made his day shine like a beacon. He marveled at the disparity that existed around him and couldn’t even enjoy the irony of the situation highlighted by his textbook: the affluent decide the monetary policy in the economy, while the common man neither knows nor cares what the discount rate is since he has no money in his pocket.

The Demerits of Merit

In a glorious age not so long ago, the worth of Man was not ascertained by, or limited to the number of degrees he had. Sadly, the population boom, stagnating job growth in the recession and rising competition have significantly reduced the value of higher education and hence, of Man himself. For instance, twenty years ago, a Bachelors in Business Administration was an honor; today, on its own, it counts for nothing.

Naturally, the course of action chosen by most BBAs is to add fancy three-letter degrees to their extensive CVs. While some tread the waters to become FRMs (Financial Risk Managers), others struggle to be converted into CFAs (Chartered Financial Analysts). Still others, the rather ambitious ones, gravitate towards the heavy-duty stuff: Chartered Accountancy and Actuarial Sciences. Ironically, as more and more people set sights on these degrees, the degrees start becoming redundant.

Undeniably though, the need to shine has become eminent. For Sameer, entering the corporate world via his internships was an eye-opening (read: earth shattering) experience. What Sameer realized is that there will always be someone a step ahead. So what do you do? Chase the shadows of those in the lead, hoping to catch up to them? Or lag behind and find contentment in being just a fraction of the person you can be?

Sameer thinks the correct answer is that you do neither. The real challenge is figuring out that one thing that you do best; that one thing where people would be willing to chase your shadows. It could be avionics for one person, landscape horticulture for another or, strumming a five string bass guitar for a third.

Sameer understands that whilst his friends in colleges abroad could secure jobs at JP Morgan Chase and the likes, he could not possibly hope to replicate their success without years of further studies. Therefore, with hordes of other students, he automatically registered himself for the CFA program. Still on the precipice of discovering his true calling, he believes the CFA exam in December will help him understand his core strengths. There is just one problem though.

Laffer Curve? IFRS? Exchange-traded Funds? Swap Contracts? Oh oh.

CFA curriculum is very taxing.

Abstention

Spicy aaloo chanay with Fresco’s meethi dahi puri.

Garma garam pakoray dipped in Mitchell’s tomato sauce.

A refreshing glass of orange Tang, full to the brim with clinking ice cubes.

For Sameer, the focal point of the month of Ramadan has always been mouth-watering food. True, the consecrated spirit of the occasion brings out the religious convert in him, making him staunchly punctual for his Fajr prayers. But the joy comes in the form of platters of deep-fried delights. In his opinion, there is nothing better than sitting down with family for iftar after fifteen hours of abstention from food, drink and unwelcome thoughts.

More often than not, Sameer’s family is unable to congregate for meals due to everyone’s varying schedules. For this reason, sehri and iftar are welcome changes, when the five of them (his parents, two sisters and Sameer himself) can enjoy the chow as well as some light conversation. This year though, each day at iftar, the family has started discussing issues of real importance and yesterday, Sameer’s sister raised a topic of huge concern.

While having tea after the maghrib prayers, Sadia asked everyone to talk about something they were thankful for. Sameer was reminded painfully of the Thanksgiving scene from The Company Men. He wondered why Sadia did not jump right into what was on her mind. Nevertheless, he played her little game. When Sadia’s turn came, everyone looked at her expectantly but what they heard was nothing short of unexpected.

Sadia was thankful that in the holy month of Ramadan, depraved men on the streets had the decency to lessen their harassment of women. She was grateful that on her way home from DOW (where she was a second year student), men in the bus did not try to caress her behind through the gap between the women’s seats adjoining the men’s compartment. Sadia was relieved to be able to commute the walk from the bus stop to their house without being x-rayed from head to foot. She was happy that wolf whistling and cat calls did not pursue her every step and that no one tried throwing chits at her with their phone numbers printed on them.

Sameer was stunned, angry and disgusted. He knew that women on the streets were often subjected to blatant sexual harassment but he had never assumed his own sister would become a victim. Ironically, the men’s behavior only seemed to fortify Sadia’s confidence in herself and Sameer was proud of her for handling herself so well. Sameer did not like that women’s cries fell on deaf ears and it was only men like him who could possibly take steps to change the sick mentality of his fellow countrymen.

He wonders how men can pretend to wash away their sins in the mosque or cleanse their souls by fasting when their thoughts and actions remain as perverted as before these rituals. Sameer couldn’t consider such men Muslims or Pakistanis because neither his religion nor his country stood for wantonness like this.

Sameer’s Foray Into Marketing 101

In the wee hours of Saturday, Sameer was awoken by an avalanche of SMSs from his friend Aleena (she was a part of Sameer’s close group of friends in IBA and an extremely stubborn person). Aleena wanted to meet everyone one last time before Ramadan started. Sameer wondered why the planning couldn’t wait until the sun had risen for the day but he knew the easiest way to stop the incessant messaging would be to reply. Therefore, he quickly agreed to meet at Park Towers.

Despite several delays, Sameer reached earlier than his perpetually-late friends. To kill time, he decided to delve into the pleasures of Movenpick’s Swiss Chocolate. As he did, he observed several excited people milling about. The central atrium of Park Towers is usually host to some activity and today, the hustle bustle of a large crowd and the presence of news reporters suggested something grand was underway. Sameer sensed a coup in the making.

It soon became apparent that Procter & Gamble’s latest BTL feat, Pampers Premium Care Baby Olympics was being held. Normally, Sameer wouldn’t have given it a second thought but he swore loudly as he realized that Aleena’s plan all along had been to witness the event. Aleena was a Marketing Major at IBA and a very annoying one at that; she discussed every Safeguard commercial, analyzed every Sana Safinaz billboard and drank the ink off Synergyzer.

Before he could scurry for cover, Aleena arrived and pulled Sameer into the midst of the crowd. The colorful setup was attractively designed and decorated. Toddlers were participating in games on a life-size racing track mattress adorned with balloons. Parents were happily ushering their kids into crawling races, push balls and running games, celebrating the freedom of movement. Sameer, not a fan of babies, particularly in public places, where their amplified wailing gives him migraines, was relieved to see most of the kids laughing, although a few looked downright terrified by the cheering, music and lights.

Sameer has to hand it to the team behind the concept. The event not only garnered parents and their toddlers and allowed them to enjoy a fun-filled activity, but also provided Pampers’ customers a medium to interact with the brand’s creative heads. Takeaways from the event included free photo frames, certificates and gifts. Moreover, parents could get their children photographed at the victory pedestal.

Now Sameer is no marketing buff but Aleena very kindly pointed out the ingenuity of the concept to him. In her extensive knowledge, toddlers are happiest when they are playing and running around and Baby Olympics was an ideal way to cherish those moments. Something Sameer picked on was that the event cleverly allowed busy parents, specially working mothers, to spend some quality time with their children, thereby increasing Brand Affinity for Pampers.

As soon as the words escaped his lips, he regretted them. Aleena started laughing at him for using marketing terminology so casually when he was trying to feign disinterest. To change the topic, Sameer suggested shisha at Indulge and started messaging the rest of the group to come save him from Aleena’s jokes.