But then I could control it no more. Tears started welling up in my eyes. One of the interns asked me if I was ok. I cleverly told I was fine but just got sentimental whenever I spoke of corporate strategy. Then I excused myself and ran to the toilet near the lift lobby.

There is one just outside the conference room. But I had a feeling that the trip would be violent.

And it completely lived up to my expectations. For seven minutes or so the toilet was like Vietnam.

Then as I walked back into the conference room, I sensed that something was not right. Everyone was trying to stifle laughter.

But then you know how young people are these days. Everything is a joke and comedy for them. In any case I think interns are a liability if a company is serious about meaningful human resource development.

So I made no-nonsense coughing noises, waited for them to calm down, and told them that I was going to talk about Strategy: From the Gut. One Chinese-looking girl in the corner began to laugh in a very sweet and sexy way, and I let it go.

I decided to make the class a little more interactive.

I asked the class to tell me some things that are popularly considered to originate from the gut.

At this point everyone burst out laughing. Initially I also laughed along, but then I was confused. So I asked a boy in the front what was so funny in a casual way. He pointed at my chest.

I looked down. Almost immediately the room began to spin around me. A tidal wave of embarrassment fell over me. A tsunami of shame.

What a complete and utter loss of public face Diary! Thank god they were only interns. And not board of directors or something.

The boy in front, an ugly monster of a human being who has sales/marketing/production/retail written all over his asymmetric face, had pointed at my wireless microphone. It was clipped to my shirt.

I had forgotten to remove it when I went to ‘Vietnam’.

I looked at the pretty little girl in the corner again. This time she was leaning back in her chair and laughing with her mouth wide open. I could see the back of her throat. She was laughing so much that no noise was coming out of her.

I wanted to pick up a stapler or something and thrust it down her throat. And then hold it there till she ran out of air, and struggled silently, her arms and legs flapping around her like Prabhu Deva. After she died I would staple her mouth shut.