Somewhere between 8 A.M. and 3 A.M

If someone had told me a month ago that I would be walking through Bombay rain in formals, holding my heels in one hand and my bag in the other, while mentally calculating how much time I had left before a case competition deadline, I probably would have laughed. Today, it sounds like a fairly ordinary day at SPJIMR. Add a pile of laundry waiting at the hostel, and you have a rather accurate picture of my first month.

The transition to campus life has been a montage of such moments. In the second week itself, I managed to fall near the lake on my way to the MLS Auditorium for the Dean’s induction. Somehow, I still made it to the session, ending up in the last row with a friend who was more entertained by my injury than concerned about it. “Be brave” became the running commentary. And then came the Dean singing rock music. Sitting there, slightly bruised but thoroughly amused, I remember thinking that this was quite an introduction to SPJIMR.

Then came the academics.

One fine day, classes began, and suddenly there was an 8 a.m. quiz to worry about, followed by a midterm, a surprise quiz, an assignment and, inevitably, another deadline. The first few quizzes involved studying all night. Eventually, I graduated to the more optimistic strategy of studying thirty minutes before the quiz. Neither method is particularly recommended, but both taught me the same thing: you learn to manage. Alongside the academic whirlwind came case competitions—sometimes working till 3 a.m., sometimes requiring you to dress in formal attire, sometimes building a creative product prototype, and sometimes trying to turn half-formed ideas into something presentation-ready.

The funny thing is that the exhaustion rarely feels like the whole story. There is always something that keeps drawing you back in: a coffee call, a familiar face in class, a late-night case comp idea that somehow becomes the highlight of the day, or the sun finally appearing after another Bombay downpour. These small things become anchors in a schedule that otherwise moves at a slightly relentless pace.

The first month has been hectic, but also strangely exhilarating. There is a certain restlessness that comes with knowing there is always something happening, something to prepare for, someone new to meet or something new to figure out. You start the day not knowing quite what it will look like and end it wondering how it is already over. Perhaps that is what I have enjoyed most so far—not having everything figured out, but having enough curiosity to keep showing up. Tomorrow will probably bring another quiz, another deadline, another coffee call and another walk back to the hostel. Somewhere between the rain, the deadlines and the people who make it all worthwhile, it has started to feel a little like home.