MBA in Europe (23)

 

23. MBA in Europe 

The year was 1997. I was 37 years old. From Ahmedabad I flew to Delhi, from Delhi to Frankfurt, and from Frankfurt I reached Ljubljana — Europe. That charming city in Central Europe! The Alps end where Slovenia begins. In winter, the temperature here can drop to minus 15°C. More than the cold itself, the whistling winds could chill your bones — so whenever one stepped outside, a windcheater and cap were a must. During winter, snowfall would cover the entire country with a white blanket. Lake Bled would freeze so solid that people played sports on it.

ICPE (International Centre for Promotion of Enterprises) Hostel

At the Ljubljana airport, one of the two staff members from the ICPE training institute a Nepalese named Ashwin was waiting for me. He assisted me with the formalities, got my passport stamped, and arranged a car that took me to Dunajska cesta 104, where ICPE (International Centre for Promotion of Enterprises) was located. I was allotted Room No. 703 on the seventh floor. I took the key and entered my room.

It was a hostel building, with each floor having rooms for trainees and visitors. Each unit had a single room with an attached bathroom — once the double bed was in place, the room was nearly full. There was just enough space for the essentials: the bathroom and a wardrobe. The room had a built-in heating system through hot-water piping, so no heavy bedding was needed. I hung my clothes on hangers, arranged my belongings in the wardrobe, placed other items in their spots, and went to check out the kitchen.

During the initial briefing, we were told that each floor had a shared kitchen with four burners — two on the left and two on the right. We had to coordinate our timings to cook. The washing machine was in the basement — we’d collect our clothes for the week and wash them together.

Since we had arrived at the end of August, the weather was pleasant. Food didn’t spoil easily. In the beginning, enthusiasm for cooking was high, so we would cook enough vegetables for four or five days, store them in the fridge, and reheat as needed. Our chapatis turned out like maps of different states, so for the first fortnight, we mostly stuck to rice and khichdi. But rice digests quickly, and we needed meals that kept us going through long study hours, so gradually we learned the tricks of kneading, rolling, and roasting dough — and soon became good at making chapatis too.

Just like with the curry, we’d prepare dough for two or three days in advance. Our student coupons were limited, and none of us wanted to spend unnecessarily. Moreover, the icy winds outside discouraged us from bundling up and walking an hour to McDonald’s or other fast-food places. So, we continued with our simple Indian meals — and in that way, though we were in Europe physically, our hearts stayed connected to India.

Interestingly, beer was cheaper than water there! And the tap water in the bathroom was cleaner than what came through our taps back home, so whenever we felt thirsty, we’d drink straight from the washbasin. Drinking water was also available in the classroom.

University Campus 

As morning broke, streams of fair-skinned young boys and girls would fill the streets of the university, flowing like a tide of youth. Some students lived in the city and came every day using bus passes, while others stayed in the university hostels.

In those hostels, there was no division between “girls” and “boys.” Students could choose their roommates freely — male or female — as they preferred. Once the day’s classes were over, the entire campus would grow silent. It reminded me of the celestial Gandharvas in our myths — they would appear at night, dance, and vanish by dawn. Here, youth and beauty blossomed in the daytime and disappeared into stillness by night.

After sunset, the place became completely quiet. We would cook, eat, and watch some television in the lounge before lying down to sleep. And as I drifted off, I could hear vehicles racing down the highway beside our building — the sound like stones whizzing from a sling. Listening to that steady rhythm, I would finally fall into peaceful sleep.

Classroom Learning 

There were 18 students in our classroom in total. Each of us had an individual desk and chair. Every morning, people sat wherever they liked. From India, besides me, there were Sudhanshu Mohanty from the Indian Accounts Service, Mohan Varghese Cherian from ONGC, and later, IAS officer Dinesh Kumar joined. From Pakistan came Rafatullah Barki; from Bangladesh, Khalilur Rahman Khan and Safiullah; from Sri Lanka, Deshapriya. From Bulgaria came Yuli Kalkonov, and from Albania, Eston Taro.

Among the Slovenians, there were men — Marko Bahor, Mitja Kreger, Anton Lenko, Miha Rozman, and Slavko — and women — Dunja Buder, Anja Kokzanjkic, Tanja Turk, Mataya Zonk, and Vesna Ster. From Uganda came Jolly Zaribwende, who worked as a bank officer but was academically a veterinary doctor.

When I left India, I wondered how refined European English must be — how would ours compare? But after meeting the students and professors, I realized it was quite similar to ours. “Ah, brother, we are alike!” Out of 18, we were eight Asians, one African, and the rest Slovenians and Europeans. Since their mother tongue was Slovenian, their English was actually weaker than ours.

If we ever needed to coordinate with the university or one of its faculties, we did so through our course directors — Mansoor Ali from Pakistan and Ashwin from Nepal. The Director General of ICPE was an Indian official. He and his wife would meet us during public functions and had invited us for meals once or twice. Both Ashwin and Mansoor were married to Slovenian women. Ashwin never invited us home, but Mansoor did once. His daughter lived with him and her boyfriend in the apartment upstairs.

Market and Shopping

For flour, vegetables, rice, and spices, we went to the shopping complex on weekends, carrying bags and returning on foot. Because of the language barrier, we couldn’t converse much with shopkeepers, so we mostly relied on gestures. The bus routes and stops were confusing, and since most people used passes or cards while we dealt in cash, we gave up on four-wheeled buses and managed with our own two-legged “Bus No. 11” (walking!).

When crossing roads, car drivers would stop and let us pass — unlike in India, where we must let them go first.

Youth Culture

When we went to the market, we often saw young couples with their arms around each other, kissing passionately in public. Watching them made me quite uncomfortable — on the first day, I even felt nauseated. I wondered, how could they exchange saliva like that? Once, I asked Jolly, “Girls wear lipstick — do the boys end up eating it too?” She laughed and said, “Lipstick is edible.”

After a while, it became a common sight. Here, physical intimacy was just a part of life. They stayed together as long as there was mutual attraction; once it faded, they simply moved on — “You’re you, I’m me.” In our Slovenian group, some three boys and girls once had a “nude party” at one of their homes. Dunja used to tell me all the gossip. Her mother was Slovenian and her father a Turkish Muslim.

I never saw my classmates drink water — beer was their beverage of choice. Whenever they went out, they drank beer, which was cheaper than water or orange juice. When they dined in groups, no one treated or paid for everyone. Each person would take out their own wallet and pay exactly for what they ordered — very disciplined! Unlike in India, where one person often ends up paying for all out of courtesy.

They couldn’t handle spicy food — if they saw curry with gravy, they’d wrinkle their noses and say “Oh!” Their social reserve was such that they wouldn’t invite anyone home for a meal or offer to take you out in their car. Among them, Mitja Kreger was married, and hence more open-hearted. Toward the end of our program, Kreger hosted a party at his home and invited all of us with our families. He cooked chicken tikka marinated in liquor, while we vegetarians made do with roasted potatoes.

Venice Carnival 

When the Christmas vacation arrived, I took a short trip to America. Later, in February 1998, our group went to attend the famous annual Carnival of Venice at St. Mark’s Square. We couldn’t explore all of Venice, but the experience of the carnival itself was unforgettable. People wore colorful and creative costumes, painted their faces and bodies, and paraded through the streets to the sound of music and instruments. Tourists gathered around to watch and enjoy the spectacle.

During the same season, we also visited Lake Bled. It was frozen solid — walking over the icy lake was a delightful and surreal experience.

Money and Lifestyle

Today Slovenia uses the Euro, but back then the currency was the Tolar — roughly five Indian rupees to one Tolar. At our hostel reception, the phone worked on a per-minute basis, so to save money, we would cleverly time our calls — we’d dial just as the minute hand touched 12, start speaking, and hang up right before it crossed 12 again, saving one precious minute! Phone calls were expensive — about ₹100 per minute.

When we went shopping, we’d always check the price tag in Tolars, convert it mentally into rupees, and buy only what seemed affordable. Potatoes were the cheapest — around ₹ 28 to 30 a kilo — but eggplants cost nearly ₹400 a kilo!

I saw celery for the first time there. At first, I mistook it for oversized coriander leaves and bought it despite its high price. When I added it to a curry, the flavor turned out strange — that’s when I learned it wasn’t coriander at all but celery!

The locals mostly ate hard bakery bread, so we couldn’t find flour like the wheat flour we use in India. We’d visit the stalls of flour-sellers, mix two or three varieties — fine, semi-fine, and coarse — and make our own version of wheat flour. Then we’d knead the dough as best we could, roll it into uneven chapatis, roast them partly cooked or fully cooked, and eat them with curry. Round or not, it all ended up in the same stomach anyway!

The rice there was thick and sticky, so we had to keep experimenting with the water ratio to get it right. We’d use it mostly for khichdi in the evenings, and on holidays, we made dal-chawal.

Cooking wasn’t entirely new to me — I’d spent my childhood watching Raibhabhi cook, my father frying fritters (bhajiyas), and my mother managing the kitchen all her life. So within the first fifteen days, I learned to cook reasonably well.

Seeing how expensive things were, when I visited America in December 1997, I brought back all the essentials — flour, pulses, rice, spices, and vegetables — whatever I could find cheaper there. My total luggage, including two check-in bags and hand luggage, came to about 97 kilograms!

Later, when my wife Laxmi came to Slovenia in May 1998 during the summer vacation with our children, I had specially requested her to bring flour, pulses, rice, turmeric, chili powder, and other spices. The combined luggage of the three of them must have been over 100 kilograms too!

Jaysukhbhai 

One day, while walking through the market in Ljubljana, I met an elderly man named Jaysukhbhai, a descendant of the Ahmedabad-based industrialist Shrenikbhai Sheth family (of the Lalbhai Group). He showed me the ISKCON Centre there. I was pleasantly surprised to see fair-skinned young men and women joyfully singing Hare Krishna, Hare Rama while playing the dholak.

Jaysukhbhai had left his wife and son in Ahmedabad and settled in Slovenia after marrying a Slovenian woman. The couple had no children. Initially, he had a job, but by then he had stopped working and was living off his Slovenian wife’s income. Every Sunday, he would go to the ISKCON Centre for the free lunch served there.

Though his family was wealthy in Ahmedabad, he was helpless here. He believed that his son had forged his signatures and usurped all his property. He requested me to help him find a good lawyer and to assist him in reclaiming his share of the estate. Since I was going to be in Slovenia for a while, I assured him that I would look into it once I returned to Ahmedabad. I also asked him why he didn’t just go back himself. He said, “I’m 55 now and have been here for about 20 years. Where can I go back to now? Ahmedabad is full of disputes.”

A year later, when I returned to Ahmedabad, I called Shrenikbhai to follow up on the matter, but he denied knowing anyone by that name.

Studies 

When it came to academics, I was among the top performers. In numerical subjects, while others used calculators to solve problems, I would calculate mentally and speak out the answer. My speed and quick responses became well-known among the university staff — people began saying, “An Indian has come who’s exceptionally bright.” I always maintained good relations with all the faculty members, local or foreign.

Computer training was a compulsory part of our curriculum. Back home, I had been used to pen-and-paper work — our government offices had computers mostly as showpieces, often placed in officers’ chambers so they could enjoy the air conditioning that came with the “computer room.” Most secretaries didn’t know how to use them, but having one was a status symbol.

At the university, we had to submit project work in Word documents and sometimes make PowerPoint presentations. Most of us were beginners, so in the beginning, we often forgot to save our files and had to redo the work. The computer lab was open 24×7, and there were no passwords in those days — anyone could use any machine.

Among the students were some clever copycats too. I would finish my project work in the evening and leave; later, someone would open my folder and copy my work. I’d be surprised to see presentations almost identical to mine. Sometimes I’d even wonder, “Did I copy theirs by mistake?”

Those “copy masters” had likely noted which computer I worked on and then duplicated my files later. Eventually, as the number of documents and folders increased, each of us began using fixed computers for our work — and that solved the problem.

Helping Fellow Students 

My reputation was high not only among my classmates but also among the faculty. Some students struggled with difficult subjects, project reports, thesis proposals, and synopses. I often helped them — staying back after class to coach them and explain tough topics more clearly. Among the girls, Jolly, Anya, and Vesna had no problems; Mateja managed with a little help. Tanya would pass if she got guidance, but Dunya was a real challenge to teach — helping her pass was the toughest task.

Some even tried to bring cheat slips into the exam hall. And if the supervisor happened to be strict, they would get so nervous that they’d forget everything they had prepared, managing to pass only in their second attempt.

One professor, Dr. Daniel Pučko, was feared by everyone. He was strict by nature — gave no hints about exams, showed no favoritism, and taught Strategic Management. Because of that fear, Dunya could neither understand nor remember the subject. During his exam, she would wear a skirt and hide numerous cheat slips as if they were ornaments — even preparing an index sheet of where each note was concealed! But as soon as the exam started, she would forget where she had hidden them.

Despite all the tutoring I gave her, she failed the Strategic Management exam three times in a row. I was exhausted from helping her, but her fear overpowered her learning. She focused more on preparing cheat notes than actually understanding the subject. Now, if she failed a fourth time, she would lose her academic year. She came to me crying bitterly and said, “PK, you have a good rapport with Prof. Pučko. Please recommend me — I can’t pass otherwise.”

Because of my good performance, Prof. Pučko respected me. Though I felt hesitant to ask, Dunya’s course was company-sponsored — and if she failed, all her expenses would be deducted from her salary. So, I went to the university staff room, requested an appointment, and appealed to his human side. He looked at me silently for a moment — and, out of regard for me, he agreed. As a result, Dunya finally passed.

Tanya got stuck preparing her thesis synopsis. She tried four times, but the university rejected it each time. Frustrated, she came to me in tears: “PK, please make it for me.” I set aside my own work, studied her thesis, and prepared the synopsis myself.

Guest Faculties 

A visiting professor from Denmark taught so fast that no one could keep up. Most students couldn’t grasp the definitions of the technical terms or the tricky calculations — everything went over their heads. Since I was good in statistics, I understood easily. After his classes, I often spent an extra hour explaining things to others. The professor stayed in our hostel as a guest faculty member, and he would see how I simplified and taught the material to everyone.

After our exams, when the results for his subject came out, the scores were excellent. Delighted, he brought beer cans for everyone and a special orange drink for me.

Another visiting professor, Dr. P.K. Jain from IIT Delhi, was also impressed with me. He invited me to pursue a PhD at IIT Delhi under his guidance.

Thesis Material 

For my thesis material, Laxmi helped me from India. There was no Wi-Fi at that time, no WhatsApp, and email was uncommon. So, the only way to exchange material was by post. I would tell Laxmi what I needed, and she would collect it from the office and send it by mail.

Results 

In my MBA, I studied 16 subjects. My results were:

• 11 subjects – Grade A

• 4 subjects – Grade A-

• 1 subject – Grade B+

Combining my coursework and thesis, I earned First Rank with Distinction, and we all walked a little taller with pride.

The Constricted Coil of the Secretariat 

The Secretariat — a truly confined complex in every sense. Two incidents about telephones are worth recording. At that time, only Secretaries and a few Joint Secretaries in the Secretariat had access to ISD (international calling) facilities. Fortunately, my department’s phone could make ISD calls. So, I had told Laxmi that if she ever needed to contact me urgently, she could go to my department office and call me.

I had explained the timing to her — since Slovenia is 3 hours and 30 minutes behind India, if she called before noon, she would reach me conveniently. One of my batchmates had taken charge of my post while I was abroad, and we were both aware of this arrangement.

One morning, Laxmi went to the department as planned. As soon as she saw the nameplate of my batchmate, she went into his chamber to meet him. When he learned that she had come to make an ISD call, he flatly refused — saying he had a meeting — and walked out, leaving her embarrassed and disappointed. Laxmi returned home hurt and humiliated. Even after 28 years, whenever she happens to see that officer, she still remembers that painful incident — how he had refused to let her make that one phone call.

But the telephone saga didn’t end there.

As soon as I left for Slovenia and my successor took over, the Administrative Branch of the department wrote to the Telecom Office instructing them to disconnect the telephone at our government residence in Gandhinagar.

Suddenly, Laxmi and the children were left completely cut off from communication. I could still manage abroad — but what if my elderly parents in Ahmedabad needed help? Or if Ujjwal or Dhawal faced any emergency?

Laxmi somehow managed to call me from a STD booth and inform me of the situation. I advised her to meet Mr. Ashok Bhatiya, the Additional Chief Secretary, who lived nearby in Sector 19.

Laxmi was furious inside — “What kind of system is this? My husband has gone abroad on official duty, not quit his job. Why would they cut off the connection?”

Mr. Bhatiya, being a kind and considerate man, listened to her patiently. The very next day, he wrote a letter to the Telecom Department, and the telephone connection was promptly restored.

Laxmi’s First Courageous Journey Abroad 

Laxmi’s journey to Europe — traveling alone with Ujjwal and Dhawal to reach me in Ljubljana — turned out to be quite an adventure. I had written her a detailed letter explaining every step of the process.

All three already had passports, so they only needed to obtain Schengen visas. Following my instructions, she applied and went to the German Consulate Office in Mumbai with the two boys to get the visas. She then booked Lufthansa Airlines tickets via Frankfurt, keeping the return sector open.

The trip from Ahmedabad to Delhi, and Delhi to Frankfurt, went smoothly. But once they arrived in Frankfurt, confusion began. The connecting flight to Ljubljana was a small one and operated from a different terminal, and she didn’t know how to get there. It was her first international trip. She assumed it must be close by — but Frankfurt Airport, being one of the largest in the world, was massive.

Managing two children and three pieces of hand luggage, with no knowledge of English, was daunting. She looked around for an Indian face and managed to ask for directions in Hindi. Looking up at the electronic screens, she somehow figured out which terminal and flight she needed. Then she realized that the terminal was very far away and could only be reached by subway train.

She boarded the first tram but ended up at the wrong place. After struggling to ask in broken English, she was guided upstairs to catch a second tram, which finally took her to the correct terminal. Much time had been lost, but luckily, the flight hadn’t departed yet. The airline staff had been waiting for them. As soon as they saw her from a distance, they rushed forward, picked up their hand luggage, and literally escorted them onto the aircraft.

And then, at last, they were in the air again — bound for Ljubljana.

At the Ljubljana Airport, I was already waiting eagerly. When I finally saw them coming out, it was a moment of immense relief and joy. I received them warmly, and we all went together to our home — the ICPE Hostel.

Now I finally felt at ease. Laxmi took charge of everything — cooking, laundry, ironing, and keeping the room tidy. The room was small, but the four of us fit comfortably and happily within it.

Europe Tour

Then came our Europe Study Tour — a part of our academic program, a 15-day educational journey across Europe. The academy had arranged a luxury bus for the trip. There were 18 participants and 2 course directors, so many seats were still vacant.

Our expenses were already covered in the course fee, but this seemed like a perfect opportunity to take our families along. We submitted a proposal suggesting that since the bus would travel half-empty anyway, our families should be allowed to join at half price. We even requested that children be charged at 25% of the rate. The organizers were hesitant at first but eventually agreed, since the trip was profitable for them anyway.

So, we — the participants, along with our families — embarked on our memorable European journey.

Over those fifteen days, we traveled through eleven countries: Italy, Switzerland, France, the United Kingdom, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, and Austria, among others — visiting their most famous cities like Milan, Geneva, Paris, London, Brussels, Amsterdam, The Hague, Bonn, Munich, and Salzburg. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, filled with unforgettable moments.

Highlights from the Trip

London:

Watching the Buckingham Palace parade was a sight to behold. And a visit to Big Ben and the London Tower — no London trip is complete without hearing those iconic chimes.

One afternoon, our driver dropped us off at a posh hotel for lunch. The menu looked tempting, but when I read the prices in pounds, I was stunned — £65 for one lunch! I decided to skip it. We went to a nearby departmental store, bought bread, butter, tomatoes, and cucumbers, and made delicious sandwiches — our lunch cost just £10! While there, we also picked up a packet of Pakistani basmati rice, which later came in handy in The Hague.

Hague:

At The Hague, Laxmi managed to get into the hotel kitchen, added some oil and spices, and prepared a fragrant pulao. Since we had two children with us, no one objected.

Paris:

When I saw the Eiffel Tower, I remembered Mahatma Gandhi’s words — he once called it not a monument of man’s wisdom, but of his folly.

At the Louvre Museum, we marveled at its magnificent sculptures and paintings — especially Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, which left an unforgettable impression.

Amsterdam:

By the time we reached Amsterdam, it was late evening. To our surprise, the bus driver dropped us off near the famous Red-Light District.

Our Slovenian classmates — single young men and women — were thrilled and rushed off to explore theaters and shows. Even one of our couples wandered off.

As for me, Laxmi, and the kids — what could we do? We found ourselves walking through streets lined with shop windows displaying beautifully dressed women selling their bodies, just as mannequins model clothes. Music blasted from every corner, and crowds filled the alleys.

To pass the time, we bought some snacks from a street stall and strolled around. After all, it was a study tour, so I joked to Laxmi that we should “study this part of society” too!

We stopped near one such window. The woman said, “75 dollars.” Then, pointing toward Laxmi, she laughed and said, “You already have her — nothing new here. Move along!” I realized that even for conversation, one had to pay $75 an hour, so we simply walked away.

Late that night, everyone regrouped, and we returned by bus to a hotel outside the city, where we fell into deep sleep.

Beyond the Study Tour

Apart from this official trip, we also took a personal tour — visiting Rome, Pompeii, Florence, Pisa, and Naples.

Before Laxmi arrived, during Christmas 1997, I had visited America alone.

In February 1998, our classmates went together to see the Venice Carnival.

After Laxmi joined me, some of our Asian colleagues traveled solo to Vienna. I, however, had to wait another twenty years before I could visit Vienna myself.

If I were to write about every experience, the pages would never end. But one thing is clear — seeing the world is richer than merely living it. As the saying goes:

“He who travels, thrives — he who stays tied, starves.”

A Gift from Ljubljana

I managed to save some of my dollars from the trip. The government later allotted me a plot in Gandhinagar, and with a loan approved, we built our own house there.

We named it ‘Ljubljana’ — the city that had given me my degree, and whose blessings helped me build my home.

In the next chapter:

I’ll share the story of my first trip to America, during the Christmas vacation from Ljubljana.

29 September 2025