Anjali Ma'am is leaving on the 16th of May.

God, for some unfathomable reason, has decided to foist us Seniors with a whole host of troubles as Gokhale draws to an end.

We have the Juniors, who've mutated into this fantastic political outfit that'll give any national party worth it's name sleepless nights. We have issues at the administrative level that no one, including the administration, has any clue about. We have/ may not have a farewell party at Manas/ maybe not at Manas, where booze may be/ may not be included for which all the Juniors will/ may not contribute and for which all the Seniors will/ may not turn up. We have a Thanksgiving party to plan that promises to turn into a right royal humdinger. Let's not talk about the Placement Cell. Please.

But the other day, the lady brought all other trifling issues into perspective when she told me that post the 16th of May, she'll no longer be around. She'll return by the time Gokhale reopens, but a fat lot of comfort that is for me.

Anjali Ma'am, for those who came in late, is the person who runs Gokhale. I mean, she runs Gokhale. There are people who, you know, are there… but if you take Anjali Ma'am out of the equation, Gokhale just ceases to be. Zilch. Zero. Null Set.

Quiet, efficient, able, calm, cool, collected, and with just the right touch of humor, she defuses every potential catastrophe at Gokhale with a charm that needs to be seen to be believed.
That's no reason for me to put up a blog about her though. If that was all there was to her, we'd be appreciative, and that'd be the end of the matter.

No, what's so wonderfully special about her is the fact that she love all of us with a zest that borders on the manic. God help the unfortunate soul who decides to trespass our bounds, for he must then confront an angry Anjali Ma'am. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is not a pretty sight. Think gladiatorial, multiplied a zillion fold.

At any given point of time, she knows everything there is to know about our lives. Our marks, our assignments, our reputation (if that's the word I'm looking for) where the faculty is concerned, our love lives (or lack of the same, in certain unnamed cases), the last time booze happened at the hostel; everything that goes in Gokhale, she keeps a tab on it.

And she's there to help out every single time you need it.

You need an exam rescheduled? Done. You want a lecture postponed? OK. You need certificates that you gave her ten years ago? Not a problem.

We've, all of us, been there, done that. Taken her help at some stage of our Gokhale lives. And I can say with surety that it's been given, every single time.

For me, personally, she is what makes Gokhale a wonderful place to be in, because she's one of those gems who loves no matter what.

Because she's there. Always.

And post the 16th of May, she won't be. Sigh.

Ah well, what to do? Life is like that only. You're going to be missed those last six days, and the rest of our lives.

Would you consider managing Genpact?

Please?

Cheers, Anjali Ma'am.