During a mock interview, I parsed the CV of Girish, a student who performs well at group discussions (GDs). He always speaks sensibly (a rare trait) and calmly (extremely important since most GDs turn into fish markets). He has calls from all Indian Institutes of Management (IIMs) and by the time you read this, he would have attended a few of those.
As I went through his CV, I came across Girish’s Common Admission Test (CAT) percentile: 91.8. For general category students, an IIM-Ahmedabad call does not happen unless they cross 99. Girish, I calculated, was applying through the reserved category. I looked at him. He is articulate and clearly belongs to a well-to-do middle class family. His CV informed me that his father received a doctorate from the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore and is currently working as deputy general manager at a Navratna public sector undertaking. One of his sisters is pursuing Masters in the US.
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“Girish,” I asked him, “Isn’t it improper for someone of your background to use your caste certificate?” He got a little uncomfortable. Then in an even tone, he said: “No, sir. My immediate family may have done well, but there are several members of my extended family that are still stuck in the past. They stay in small towns in Uttar Pradesh, and need exposure.”
“But how will your MBA give them exposure?”
“Sir, it creates a role model for the entire family. In my father’s generation, there was no family planning. My grandfather had his last child as my father had his first. There is a lot of ignorance. They need positive role models.”
“Family planning failure is not unique to any section of society.”
“Yes, but in my family there are other issues. There is no value for education.”
“Do you really think that for someone who does not care for an education, your IIM degree will make a difference?”
“Yes sir, it might.”
“Wouldn’t you make a better role model if you achieved something on your own, without the assistance of a caste certificate?”
“I have never used my caste certificate. This is the first instance. I took CAT last year too, and got a similar percentile. I was in two minds about using it last year.” “You have been a consistent performer in academics. You have done well in school and engineering. Why do you want to use your caste certificate now?”
“This is my second CAT attempt and I have to make it to a good institute this time.” “I know of several non-reservation category students who haven’t cleared CAT after three, four attempts. Isn’t this unfair to them?”
“Sir, it might be, but there is a reason reservations are given.” “Yes, the reason is to help people affected by endemic discrimination to get a chance at bettering their lot. It is not meant for someone like you.”
I found my voice rising. That was really not like me. But to see Girish use his caste certificate with a (still good but not sufficient) 91.8 percentile and edge past candidates with 97 or 98 percentiles uncorked something in me. Here was a perfectly likeable person who I would have been glad to assist. And here, too, was someone who knew well that he was misusing a privilege.
“What were your parents’ views on your using the caste certificate?” I asked.
“They left the decision to me.”
I realised I had to let it go. This was not about Girish, though he was the first person in my experience with close to a hundred candidates who was using his caste certificate when he did not deserve to. But training my guns on him would serve no purpose. There are many others like him. At least, he was fair-minded enough in having never used the certificate before. I remember a student panting with rage as she recounted how a candidate got out of a Mercedes and laughed his way to the admission list of Ruia, an arts college in Mumbai, while she did not make the list in spite of a far better score.
The interview with Girish progressed, drifting into a different territory altogether. He knew nearly everything there was to know for success in an IIM interview, yet he was deeply low on confidence. I had to talk grit and determination to him, and ask him not to lose his nerve. I almost felt guilty about grilling him earlier. Frankly, he is the sort of student who can do with some extra assistance, however undeserved, because of his tendency to underestimate himself.
But the question remains. B R Ambedkar wanted reservations for a period of only 30 to 40 years, after which they would be phased out. That proposal was shot down by other members of the Constituent Assembly. Caste is a complex phenomenon — and there are reasonable arguments for keeping reservations alive. But as Girish’s case shows, there are other stories that have built over time, and they have opened the possibilities of new social fissures.
The author has switched too many jobs in the past and hopes he can hold down this one