IGWTBS In Bookstores!

What's in a name?

How did we come up with the title? Well, I was very clear (had eventually became clear) that ‘God’ had to be somewhere in the title because it made the book sound interesting. In my own experience, I have never picked up a book that had a useless title (if I didn’t know the author himself).

When the writing started, I had started with the title “CV Point” in mind- something of an internal MBA joke- since everything in a B-school is about CV Points. Several people told me that this wasn’t catchy enough. The folder containing the various novel related docs/ jpegs/ etc on my laptop is still called CV Point, however.

My next choice was “If God were an MBA”. DV aka Dharam (who I talked to a month before going to the publishers) didn’t like it; said it reminded him too much of “If God was a Banker” which I didn’t want- considering the writing in IGWTBS and Ravi Subramanium’s horny novel is quite a class apart. The next solution that my brain threw up (whilst sitting in the FMS Delhi lawns with DV) was “If God went to B-school” which both of us instantly liked.

One of my earlier suggestions to MG had been “Delhi 7” which had seemed appropriate and catchy at the time. But “If God went to B-school” was a title none of us could resist, despite the fact that it still sounded similar to the Banker title. However, our case for the title was stronger- the central character fit with the title more than in ‘Banker’, where the justification for the title is somewhat, actually quite, childish.

The subtitle is MG’s creation. We sat for hours and couldn’t come up with one. We were clear that the word ‘love’ had to be there in it. We figured out millions of permutations but they were all rather cheesy or useless. Finally MG blurted “Would love follow him there?” out and the title was complete.

Just so you know the other permutations were:

Me vs. my MBA

The untold story of a B-School in the Recession

God of Delhi 7

The untold story of a Recession MBA

If God were an MBA

The untold story of a B-School in the Recession

If God went to a B-School

The untold story of a Recession MBA

My Recession MBA

The Chronicles of Delhi 7

If God went to a B-School

The Recession Story at Faculty of Management Studies

Love and related disasters

As stated by an incredibly wise human very recently and eloquently- love is but a chemical reaction. An intense overpowering chemical reaction.

As I age and grow wiser in a few respects (while losing wisdom in most), I look around and see people attempt their own versions of the Great Love Story. It is mostly the same- chocolates, flowers, text messages, whispered/ mumbled nothings, proposals, marriages… It is then that I think- why the hell is every goddamn love story I see- so similar.

It is as Hari says in the novel “Maybe I am just in love with the idea…”. I think & believe that the very idea of being in love or being loved is so romantic, alluring, mystical for an average human that us/ we/ they/ everyone falls for the same old lies- roses, chocolates, marriages- believes in the same mirage that novels, movies peddle. Everyone then dances the damned same merry dance that love is- so similar and predictable that it is infuriating for a writer who likes people to be weird/ weirder and display a lack of a pattern in their being. 

Aside from the primary and very animal perspective of finding a mate, I think love’s only purpose aside from fuelling an entire empire of entertainment spanning movies and novels (including mine I must add), is to make human beings- insignificant little specks in the perspective of the universe (Think about it- you are just six billionth of this earth’s human mass) - to make these damn tiny specks feel important. For however insignificant and socially rejected you might be, there is that one person in the world (also six billionth of human significance) who thinks you aren’t insignificant. Not so much.

The worst is peer pressure lovers- the kind that is best illustrated by XYZ who is 24 years old and who won’t stop cribbing to anyone who is willing to listen, about how everyone around her has a boyfriend/ girlfriend while she is lonely. Undoubtedly/ invariably, some poor miserable insignificant chap will eventually end up with this peer pressure lover (for whatever chemical/ biological reasons). I pity him and I pity his eventual diminished significance in the context of the universe.

Love is not a mystery. Human beings are.