February 13, 2001
The views expressed in this are not necessarily those of the Organizing Committee and they, therefore, wish to absolve themselves of the responsibility for any resulting late night riots.
I intend to mention a few names in this article, and if there is anyone out there who feels slighted by the absence of theirs, I urge them to feel free to write their own pieces to see their names in cyberspace.
And to think that it all started on a Friday afternoon in November ‘00 in a bar in Ajman with six of MIT’s finest pondering the deeper meaning of life……..none of them ever imagined the blood, sweat, toil and tears that would come out of a chance comment, “let’s do a meet early next year.”
The Project? No, it wasn’t a steering committee meet for the spar design for a deep seawater exploration job in the Gulf of Mexico, I refer to the
UAE Alumni Meet ’01.
Let the Games begin
The lessons learnt from a relatively successful previous installment indicated the need for a ‘marketing campaign’ early in the plan.
Enter the MOBMIT site.
Webmaster Geo (sounds like a DJ, eh?!) ensured that a soothsayer kind of message announcing the upcoming event sometime in February ’01, went online in early December. THE DIE WAS CAST.
It was followed by an e-mail blitzkrieg on members, registered and others.
It was the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party and they did.
As in all great organized happenings, one didn’t initially find everybody exactly pledging body and soul for this project but hey, there was a decent amount of encouragement and that’s half your work done.
The emirate given the honor of hosting this select bunch of MITians was Dubai.
Lobbying from other emirates was intense but the joie le vivre, chutzpah, bonhomie and, for that matter, the bon appetit the emirate is famous for, won the day.
Let’s face it, an MIT meet in Ras Al Khaimah, with all due respect, is as appetizing as a sandstorm on a holiday (hell, we know out here what that feels like…)
We had, at the eye of this soon-to-be cyclone, four not so young Turks, three from the batch of ‘86 and one from ’87 (please note that for reasons intensely personal, we refer to the year of joining MIT). One of them, the part owner of a rather large sized printing press, plunged headlong into the activity with the printing of tickets and in all the excitement even added an extra ‘i’ in ALUMNI. Far be it from me to throw an alphabet in fury at my well-meaning ol’ buddy, Vipin Ramachandran - I just use this as an indication of the fervor exhibited.
Responsibilities were handed out emirate-wise to those thought of as being highly capable, respectable and upright members of the community and in good standing, (yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking…!) and then it began, the hard sell.
‘Why should something like this be a hard sell’, I wondered but my naivete was given the brusque retort it deserved by another jewel in the MIT crown here, Shabeer Ahamed, with a colorful reference to it being the real world out there.
Another crucial lesson learnt from the earlier venture was the need to harness the power that came from the different little groups that the brotherhood and sisterhood had recombined to form.
Masterfully was this accomplished by the incredible efforts of, among the others, the untiring Waatts (Rajesh V.B, to the uninitiated) , PK (senior) and Mathai, already a legend in MIT for his charming ability to get under the skin of every single person he has ever met.
The odd question on the lines of exactly how many people would attend, as a precursor to the questioner’s ‘should I go or shouldn’t I’ decision making process, was treated with the disdain it deserved.
I mean, you want to get pre-bash statistics, go to an organizer for a World Wrestling Federation show…..
We realized, during one of our periodical so-what-do-we-do-next Committee meetings, that we still referred to our brothers from Karnataka as ‘locals’. What’s that about not being able to take the MITian out of a man / woman?
Stranger still was hearing a brother hailing from the state in question, Ronnie, referring to them as ‘locals’. Now, some things even philosophy can’t explain.
A week to the program and the numbers were not looking too good.
Been there, done that.
“No worries, keep plugging”, the cry went out.
Motta (Rakesh to the masses) got together with some of the brothers and got the arrangements for the games for the Day, done.
Baited breath for M-Day.
Feb. 2nd ‘01
As Fate would cruelly have it, I could land up only four hours after the fun began.
Couldn’t believe my eyes.
124 MITians.
A total gathering of, including kids, 240 people, from what I could see, having an absolute BLAST!!!
Relieved visages all round.
An LCD projector threw up the MOBMIT site onto a wall for instant registrations. Brainwave, that was.
A couple of the aforementioned respectable community stalwarts from Abu Dhabi, Chathan and S.I – sniggers to be suitably suppressed, if you please – insisted to me that they got 30 MITians from Abu Dhabi.
Sincere congratulations followed, as I pride myself on being a giver of credit where it is due.
Having the same reiterated a couple of more times by the same upstanding delegates led me to an inspection of the beverages they were carrying on their persons and therein lies another tale…….
Compared paunches with a couple of long lost buddies – yup, I’m getting there at the speed of sound – hugs galore and all that good stuff.
Wives and kids having a rollicking good time, dancing et al, yes, we had it and we had it just fine.
Had our very own Martin G.P attend - on his way back to India - and talk in his disarmingly disjointed fashion on-stage
Waatts was doing the Shylock thing with the money held close to his trustworthy chest, to disburse as and when.
Mathai actually got a token of appreciation for being the chappie to bring in the most number of registrations.
Heard the stories of the fun earlier in the day. Everybody I spoke to seemed to be having a great time.
Hats off to all who took part in the organization and all who attended to ensure the success of this program.
Would have loved to end with a set of lyrics from a Metallica number but am too tired to think. ‘Nuff said.
