96 hours after

She had dreamt of this somewhat mundane but extraordinary moment a million times. She could see him from across the road at the bus station and feel something like a knot in her heart. Like as if after aeons she was completely conscious of herself breathing. It was strange. Strangely uncomfortable deciding whether or not to walk up to him, to hold him in her arms, to tell him that it might sound absolutely retarded but she missed him. That each of the past 96 hours she had slowly counted seconds and minutes when she could touch his skin and somehow pass this sense of unrest and turmoil through the fine pores she would feel against her fingers. Odd then that she still had that quickened pulse and fervour as she stood across the road. She wasn't sure if this was excitement or apprehension. The more she stayed away from him, the more she know she couldn't much longer. She wondered how that moment would be. She wondered if their bodies will flow into each other's as naturally as water or if they would share the unsaid magnetism of strangers again.

She waited until anticipation got the better of her. And then she turned and walked away. She had needed this moment to completely comprehend. That she was dead now.

The art of Macro-Economics

I've always been one of those people, who find professors boring and yet hail MBA professors as something of demi-Gods. I agree and whole-heartedly bow to all allegations of bias. But, in my defence I have to mention that some of the most interesting people I've met happen to be MBA professors - and therefore the basis of my theory.

One of the most recent ones is a man I heard a lot about even before I took his first class. Rude, sarcastic and even racist, I was told. And in all honesty, I probably entered the class with more apprehension than my ill-informed gossip sharer had intended to conceive. Yet, even before the first 15 minutes of the class was over, I knew I'd met a man who would change the way I looked at Macro-Economics for the rest of my life. Sarcasm was his strength, and boy did he flaunt it. You couldn't get away with a sub-standard assumption in that class. But I wouldn't agree to the allegations of rudeness and racism - those were plain fabrications. The man taught Macro-Economics like Classical History, with images, stories, assumptions, questions, cynicism and most importantly, a sense of humour.

There were no straight questions and therefore there were no simple answers. In his opinion, the only non-transient theory in the world had to do with culture. The fact that it didn't matter at all. And no wonder then, that his very first assignment had a caveat question thrown in ever-so-lightly on the multi-million dollar effect of culture on national income. And classmates and competitors tripped over each other trying to impress him with a leaner excuse to disregard the much-hated word.

Hillary is over now, and so is the 8-week schedule on the most discussed and argued about module this term. People who hate his cheek and some who idolise him are all feverishly hoping to pass a course they never believed would seem so unfamiliar. Notes exchanged, assignments completed and applause offered. What remains is his fan club.