The general presumption of four years of education in an IIT culminating in an entry into one of those big graduate schools took a hit this year, thanks to economic recession. Having worked towards securing a PhD position (not an MS, I repeat to those poor souls who fail to understand the difference between the two even after incessant tutorials) over my last 3 years, the recession scare could not have been more daunting. My research stays in labs of high repute made the search for a university that offered a balance between a dynamic young professor and a department of credibility even more meticulous as there generally exists no decipherable trade off between the two.
After exercising critical portions of prejudice in choosing universities amidst those debates with friends, the selection paved way to the “proffing” ritual. Mails seeking the existence of any possible refuge in their heavenly abode by patronizing their already well established scientific expertise ensued. I received courteous replies encouraging me to continue with my application process. These first signs of acceptance, created more jubilation than what was actually intended.
The all encompassing statement of purpose was next on list. Summarizing your years of achievement in a few lines gives you that feeling of belittling those months of focused effort. But I still savored those moments with a sense of gratitude to the people who made it all possible. In what seemed like eternity, the recommendations and the final application packet did reach their destinations just at the neck of time. Thus began the wait for the inevitable.
Graduate forums and discussion groups were the new demi gods and they received all time hits. The refresh button on the browsers suffered fatal onslaughts and I was sure that time had frozen. Then one fine day Illinois, Urbana Champaign sent me its reject saying that this time the number of applicants far exceeded the number of available positions and they had to reject excellent students also. The next few weeks saw a steady influx of rejects from Wisconsin-Madison, Michigan, Delaware, California-Davis stating the same reason. Immersed in a sea of despondency, I started contemplating what the possible reasons for my rejection could be.
My “friendly” neighbors (Tanwar, Mota, Goofy, Rohit, Chansa) took advantage of this situation and woke me up with a daily “reject alarm”. For those who are unaware of the “reject alarm”, it is the repetition of the word “reject” thrice in a monotonous tone with a “knock-knock” on the door after every “reject” –inspired by the all invincible Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. I tried to reason out to people that getting an MS is much easier than a PhD as the already jobless Masters graduates might have definitely applied for a PhD and the latter application is subjected to far more scrutiny than the former.
But I guess all this went into deaf ears as the friendly “reject alarm” still kept ringing throughout the day. Contemplating on the alternatives took most of the time as I prepared myself to intern abroad for the third consecutive year.
April 15th greeted me with another reject from Massachusetts, Amherst and with Rensselaer, New York remaining, only a faint hope evinced when I received a mail from the latter’s department. The department specialist asked me whether I was still interested in their graduate program. I replied positive and received a letter from them the next day saying I was being recommended by the department for a fully funded PhD.
As is the case with human nature to overlook minor details at times of extreme happiness, I along with my friendly “reject alarm” neighbors took the “subject to approval by the graduate admissions office” clause as a given. There were others too who testified this act and the weekend seemed uneasily joyful.
I woke up the next Tuesday morning to receive a mail from the university saying I was rejected on the grounds of my GPA being less than 3 on a scale of 4. At first sight, this seemed more like a spoof mail from my friendly neighbors. But repeated reading drilled in the news. The agony and the embarrassment set in pretty soon as I started thinking about the wishes from people near and far. The mission to prove that their conversion system was not fair, involved many elite people to whom I am really indebted to. I sent in documents and recommendations from my references in support of my argument and several correspondences were exchanged between the university and me.
Last Monday saw a mail from them telling me that they are still talking about this but the conversion seemed very difficult. They advised me to take up another offer if I still had one. Also, the professor who wanted me was now unsure of taking me due to financial concerns. Things seemed to be slipping away as she said that she hoped to get back to me later that week.
Friday morning, I woke up to an email that said “I believe an offer should not be headed your way by tomorrow or early next week”. Now, although my english comprehension skills were above average, all that I could decipher from that one line was that the wait was still on. But there was something weird about the “an offer not headed your way” phrase. I forwarded the email to my list of elite people and even before I could imagine, I started receiving condolences from quite a few of them on my supposed rejection.
In one of those infinite chat conversations that I was having with my peers, few suggested that the email might have suffered from a typing mistake and what she actually meant was that an offer was headed my way early next week. Counting on my lucky stars, I wrote back asking her to clarify if a decision was still pending or whether I was out. Guess what? I received just that anticipated reply!
As I draft the last line of this article, all I can do is keep my fingers crossed hoping to get that final offer letter not followed by a rejection mail again!
