GMAT with CJ

Jokes Without Laughter: The Tragedy of Education My friend shared the following experience with me yesterday: "In Class 2 in school, we had a chapter dedicated to jokes. I guess it was meant to make us laugh while we learned. But when it was taught in class, none of us laughed. Not even a smile. Why? Because our teacher always had a stick in hand. We were focused on getting every pronunciation right, every pause perfect. We memorized those jokes word for word, like a script. But the laughter was lost." --- How could a teacher handle a chapter full of jokes in such a way that no child ends up laughing or understanding? How did memorization, pronunciation, and the 'right' delivery take priority over students' connecting with the material? Perhaps it is because no one can see whether a child connects with the material. We can only see whether the child remembers and pronounces the material correctly. However, can't we see the connection in a child's smile and tone of excitement while reading the text? And can't we see their disconnect when they speak word by word without any mischievousness, excitement, or laughter? The predominant perspective is to see education solely for the gain it provides: a career or the ability to earn money. And in emphasizing and appreciating only what education leads to, we have forgotten that education, in itself, could be worthwhile. We have assumed it to be a painful journey we must endure for future rewards. But perhaps it's not pain. Maybe education is intrinsically valuable. Perhaps the process of becoming educated can be a joyful experience. For me, at least, it was. And I wish more people could experience the same.

Students who come to me for private tutoring have, on average, already spent about 18 months preparing for the GMAT. After such a long and frustrating journey, I often see them fall into one of two categories: “I just want to get this done in 1–2 months.” They’re exhausted and fed up. After countless hours of effort and no real improvement, they just want the ordeal to end. “I’m ready to learn the right way, no matter how long it takes.” They’ve tried shortcuts, hacks, and quick fixes — all of which failed. Now, they’re willing to slow down and rebuild their approach properly. The situation is the same, but the attitudes are poles apart. The first group has been worn down by repeated failure and slips into desperation. The second group, though equally battered, has reached clarity: they see where they went wrong and are ready to commit to the right path, however long it may take. My first task with those in the first category is to show them how their current mindset — rushing, cutting corners, seeking escape — will only deepen their struggles. As the Urdu poet wrote: “Marz badhta hi gaya jyon-jyon dawaa ki.” (The more I took medicines, the worse my disease became.) In other words: the harder they push in the wrong way, the more stuck they become.

Self-doubt is healthy. It indicates the presence of intelligence. The absence of self-doubt is absolute confidence in oneself, believing failure is not possible. That's only possible if you lose touch with reality. What's harmful isn't self-doubt but the debilitating fear of failure. Instead of addressing why you fear failure so much, you keep focusing on building your confidence—which essentially means thinking of yourself as invincible. But you're still intelligent. So you know that you can fail. You so wish you weren't intelligent! You keep going around in circles. Why not address the real thing: Why do you fear failure so much? Because that will finally show the world what you really are. A failure. And here's where the problem lies: You believe you really are a failure. So you're afraid that it will happen. You're afraid that the world will finally get to know you. Why do you believe you are a failure? Because you have failed to follow your definition of success. Rather, you have failed to even define your definition of success. Rather, you hardly even know yourself. Thus, you have always chased what society expected you to. And in the process, you neglected yourself. And thus failed in your own eyes. And thus you're now afraid that the world will finally know it.

How does a tree come into being? We think we know the answer. You plant a seed. It becomes a sapling. Then a plant. Then a tree. Simple. But does that really answer the question? How does a sapling happen from a seed? And why does a sapling grow? Science has its explanations. Water seeps in, enzymes activate, cells divide, tissues differentiate. We can trace the entire process from germination to growth. But the deeper question remains untouched: why do these chemical reactions happen at all? Why should lifeless atoms organize themselves into something alive — something that reaches for the sky, gives shade, bears fruit? That “why” lies beyond our equations. What remains is wonder. This is what my persistent “Why” has given me: an invaluable “wonder” of a child.

I once read about an investor who said: “I made $5 million because I picked 5 stocks. If I had picked 10, I would have lost $5 million—because the quality of my picks would have suffered.” The same principle applies to GMAT preparation. If you solve and analyse 5 questions properly, you come away with valuable learning. But if you try to squeeze in 10 questions in the same time, you’re forced to rush. You skip analysis, overlook patterns, and end up repeating the same mistakes. You lose your time with no real progress. The quantity of input leads to the quantity of output only if the quality remains the same. Otherwise, more input may actually leave you with less, or even negative, output. When it comes to both investing and learning, depth matters more than breadth.

A fund manager who doesn’t talk about expected returns. A friend of mine is a minority partner in a firm that manages about Rs 500 crores of funds for HNIs. When I asked him, “If I invest in your fund, how much return can I expect?” he refused to give me a number. No matter how many times I pressed, he only spoke about: Managing the downside Investing in high-quality businesses Doing thorough research In short, he never spoke about the outcome. He only spoke about the process. Because outcomes depend on many factors, but the process is within his control. I was reminded of him when a student kept asking me: “How long will my GMAT prep take?” I couldn’t give him a timeline either. One month, four months—who knows? Instead, I spoke about focusing on accuracy, learning, and progress. Speed will come naturally once clarity and comfort increase. But I noticed something. Unlike my friend, I was less comfortable admitting my ignorance. Watching him so confidently refuse to commit to a number made me reflect: maybe the real strength lies in having the courage to stay with the uncertainty, while holding firm to the process.

I always thought that while we cannot control our GMAT score, at least our learning was in our hands. But what shook me was realizing that even learning is not in our control. We can put in the hours, we can keep striving, but we cannot decide when something will click or when an insight will finally land. Sometimes, in just two hours, I feel I’ve understood something deeply. Other times, even after ten hours, I’m still struggling to make sense of it. That is humbling. And yet, also clarifying. Because then the question shifts: not how much time should I give to this, but rather — am I willing to do whatever it takes for mastery, or am I content with what I manage within a certain number of hours? It also makes me see why the common approach of allocating fixed time to topics is flawed. Mastery doesn’t run on our schedule. It happens in its own way, in its own time. And maybe that’s the real invitation here — to strive wholeheartedly, but to let go of the illusion of control over when mastery will come.

Earlier, wrong answers brought out swear words. Now, they spark curiosity. That’s how one student described his GMAT journey. He recently attended my webinar and is also part of our GMAT Intensive recorded course. What he shared touched me deeply. He said, earlier when he got questions wrong, the first thing that came to mind was a string of swear words. Now, when he gets something wrong, he becomes curious. He actually finds GMAT preparation fun. For him, it feels like constant learning and discovery through the mistakes he makes. Of all the things my students say, these words satisfy me the most. The least satisfying for me is their score. More satisfying than a score is when I see their comprehension and reasoning improve. More satisfying than skills is when I see a change in their attitude towards learning. And most satisfying of all is when I see a person’s experience of learning—and even living—transform. Such transformations are possible when you deliver real learning, not just techniques and tricks. Techniques and tricks are only means to an end. They may help you solve a few questions, but they can never satisfy the soul. Real learning can. It can make people fall in love with the process itself.

I wasn’t a victim of careless errors. I was a victim of caremore errors. Before my first attempt, I wanted a perfect score. I was 40 points away in my first mock. I thought I could close the gap with practice. So I took more mocks. I became extra careful not to make mistakes. But the opposite happened—my scores dropped. 40 points away became 60… then 90… then 120. Why? Because I cared too much. The more I cared about the outcome, the more anxious I became. The more anxious I became, the more mistakes I made. I wasn’t careless. I was caremore. The turnaround came when I stopped obsessing over the perfect score. I even made peace with not getting a good score. And that’s when my performance improved. I didn’t get 800, but I came close - just 30 points shy. Many test-takers fall into the same trap. They try to fix their mistakes by caring even more about the result. But that doesn’t work. To overcome caremore errors, you have to do the opposite. You have to care less about the outcome.

"I keep rushing through GMAT questions and making careless mistakes." People say this, yet they continue to misunderstand what "rushing" actually means. Most people think rushing = working fast. But here's the counterintuitive truth: You can work incredibly fast without rushing, and work slowly while still being rushed. The real issue? It's about pace-purpose misalignment: moving at a speed that doesn't match what's needed to achieve your goals effectively. This misunderstanding is sabotaging GMAT preparation at every level. From timeline planning to mistake analysis, students are compromising quality in the name of arbitrary speed. My latest article breaks down the four levels where this happens and shows you how to find your optimal pace: the sweet spot where you maintain complete control while maximizing effectiveness. https://gmatwithcj.com/how-to-prepare/the-slow-path-to-a-fast-gmat-score-understanding-rush/ #GMAT #TestPrep #StudyTips https://gmatwithcj.com/how-to-prepare/the-slow-path-to-a-fast-gmat-score-understanding-rush/

A student once scored a 205 on a GMAT mock test after studying with me for six months. His score had dropped 180 points from his initial mock score of 385. When we began our sessions, his skills were very basic, as his initial score reflected. He had to relearn everything from scratch. At first, it took him nearly 40 minutes to solve a single Critical Reasoning question. With practice and by applying the right approach, he gradually reduced this to around 10 minutes per question. When he attempted the mock, he could not solve even half the questions within the given time. That naturally led to the 205 score. After a brief setback, he kept going, and over time his skills and therefore his speed improved. A few months later, he scored 655 on the actual GMAT. The point I want to stress is this: timing should not be a concern in the early stages of preparation. Your priority should be building clarity and strong skills. As your understanding improves, the time you take per question will automatically come down. Speed is not a skill by itself; it is simply a reflection of your skills.

One of the most counter-productive beliefs in aptitude exam preparation, including the GMAT, is this: “Since you’ll eventually have to solve the hardest questions within strict time limits, you should start practicing that way from the beginning.” The logic sounds appealing: if the exam requires performance under pressure, why not train under pressure from day one? That’s why many students dive straight into the toughest questions, stopwatch in hand, racing against the clock. But this is no different from taking your very first driving lesson and insisting on hitting 80 mph immediately. The justification? “I’ll have to drive at high speeds one day, so why not start now?” We can instantly see how absurd—and dangerous—that is. In no field does real learning happen through such reasoning. Speed is not the starting point; it is the outcome. It arises naturally once you have clarity and comfort. If you chase speed before building those foundations, you damage your ability to ever develop them. Yet, countless institutes still advocate this flawed approach, pushing aspirants into a cycle that ends not in mastery, but in frustration, self-doubt, and burnout.

A student asked me how to double a given ratio. He wasn’t sure whether to multiply just the numerator by 2 or both the numerator and the denominator. I suggested that he try both methods. We took the ratio 4/3. When he multiplied both the numerator and denominator by 2, he got 8/6. When I asked him to simplify it, he saw that it was the same ratio he started with. He realized on his own that this couldn’t be the correct way to double a ratio. Without my telling him, he found the answer to his question, and I believe he’ll not only remember the answer but also understand why it’s correct. Two points I want to highlight from this example: First, no question is a silly question—it’s a silly attitude to discourage questions. If I had considered the student's question silly, I wouldn't have helped him. Second, instead of giving direct answers, we can help people discover answers on their own. I believe this is a more effective approach.

“Do not talk about giftedness, inborn talents! One can name great men of all kinds who were very little gifted. They acquired greatness, became ‘geniuses’ (as we put it), through qualities the lack of which no one who knew what they were would boast of: they all possessed that seriousness of the efficient workman which first learns to construct the parts properly before it ventures to fashion a great whole; they allowed themselves time for it, because they took more pleasure in making the little, secondary things well than in the effect of a dazzling whole.” – Friedrich Nietzsche When it comes to the GMAT, I often wonder: Do you enjoy focusing on and refining the smaller steps without constantly stressing over creating a “dazzling whole”? Do you find more satisfaction in grasping the finer details of problems—seeing how slight changes in a question or its options shift the answer? Or are you driven solely by the final score on the screen?

"I know what I want to get out of an MBA, and I also know the answer to why I want that out of my MBA. However, it's been 1.5 years since I have been preparing for the GMAT, and I'm still far from my goal. My question for you is: when should a person give up pursuing his dream? This is a question that I have no answer for. It might be a silly situation for you, but this would help me to go through it", a LinkedIn connection from South America sent me this message. Here's my reply: When it comes to giving up on dreams, the real question is: “If you give up on your dream, what will you be left with?” But it’s also important to recognize that the MBA or GMAT is not the only path to achieving those dreams. Sometimes, alternative routes can still lead you to the same destination. Exploring them doesn’t mean giving up on the dream — it means keeping the dream alive while changing the path. That said, if the GMAT truly feels like the only or most feasible route for you, then the question becomes less about giving up and more about rethinking your approach. Perhaps the challenge isn’t with the dream itself, but with the method of preparation. An ineffective or inefficient strategy can make even the strongest effort feel like it’s going nowhere. So before asking “Should I give up?”, maybe ask: “Should I change how I’m going about it?”

Yesterday morning, as I looked out through the glass doors, I saw a serene scene—the gentle cool air, the beautiful green trees, the park across the house. It was calming, almost inviting me to step into the balcony and just be there for a while. And then a thought crossed my mind: “But how would this help me?” It struck me as strange. I was standing before a peaceful, beautiful moment, and yet I wanted to measure it by what it could produce for me. Would it make me more productive? Would it lead to some tangible gain? If not, was it worth it? That’s when I realized how deeply ingrained this mindset is—that even beauty, peace, or calm must justify itself in terms of productivity. Our life experiences are not ends in themselves; they are seen as means to more productivity or more wealth, as if what we earn or produce is what's most important. Seeing this belief so clearly made me feel both sad and empowered. Sad because it showed me how easily I dismiss life’s gifts. Empowered because once I could see the pattern, I knew it could be dismantled. It’s only a matter of time.

I often meet students who feel stuck. They keep trying the same tricks and shortcuts they’ve seen others use, but somehow it never works for them. They think they’re missing some secret. What they don’t realize is this: those techniques only work if the foundation is already strong. If your comprehension and reasoning skills aren’t in place, the tricks won’t save you. It’s like painting a wall. The paint looks good only if the wall is solid. But if the wall itself is weak, no matter how expensive the paint, the wall will eventually collapse. And a fallen painted wall is not a good sight. Shortcuts are valuable but only after you’ve built the strength to stand on your own skills. Without that, you’ll just keep circling around, wondering why what worked for others doesn’t work for you.

Two hours. One CR question. A 93rd Percentile Student. A private Tutoring Session. On the surface, it might sound like “too much time for too little progress.” But in reality, that one question opened doors to almost every important aspect of CR. We ended up discussing: 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 – how even high scorers can drift while reading passages and options. 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 – why exactly each option works or doesn’t, and how a single word can flip the logic. 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 – how he approaches questions, and how he tracks (or doesn’t track) his learning. 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗲𝘁 – how someone already at 93%ile can only improve by going deeper, which requires shedding the rushed mindset. By the end, we had examined the question from every angle I could think of. It was intense, but also deeply satisfying.

Let me share a story I often tell students who feel stuck and frustrated. It’s about a brilliant graduate from IIT Kanpur. By any measure, he was incredibly smart. On the GMAT, he had a perfect quant score, a Q90. But he was trapped. For 18 long months and across three official attempts, his score remained frozen at 655, held back by a verbal score of V81, which is around the 70th percentile. All this time, he watched his peers and classmates break the 715 barrier, seemingly with ease, and move on. He came to me for a private tutoring session, and during the session, we were analyzing a Critical Reasoning question. I pointed out a couple of subtle nuances he had missed. He listened, and then his frustration surfaced. He said, 'I understand what you're saying, and I agree I didn't know these details. But I am almost certain that my classmates who are hitting V85 and scoring 715 don't know such nuances either.’ And here’s the most important part of the story: I told him that I completely agreed with him. I explained that there are often two paths to a top verbal score. The first path is subconscious. Some people, through their upbringing, education, or sheer exposure to sophisticated English, develop an incredibly accurate 'gut feeling.' Their internal ear for the language is so well-tuned that they can identify the correct answer without consciously knowing the exact logic behind it. They don't know the nuances because they don't *need* to. The second path is conscious and deliberate. This is for the rest of us whose 'gut feeling,' for whatever reason, isn't yet calibrated to that 90th-percentile level. Our subconscious responses aren't getting us to our goal. This can feel deeply unfair. It's frustrating to realize you have to manually master the logics that seem to come naturally to others. It's okay to feel that frustration. Acknowledge it, accept it. But after you allow yourself to feel it, you have to get back to work. We cannot control our past exposure or how our intuition was shaped. What we *can* control is our actions today. We can choose to take the deliberate path: to learn the rules, master the nuances, and build the skills, piece by piece. So, when you see others succeeding faster and you feel that frustration building, remember this story. Your journey is your own. Acknowledge your feelings, and then focus all your energy on what you can control: the deliberate, conscious effort to master your craft. PS: Did that IIT graduate eventually hit 715? No. He didn’t need to. His company promoted him to product manager - his post-MBA goal - without an MBA. His journey moved forward in its own way. And that, too, is worth remembering: sometimes the score isn’t the end of the story.

A 6-hour Workshop that will forever change the way you look at GMAT Critical Reasoning We will extensively cover Gap Analysis, the concept that demystifies CR and clarifies the concept of “scope” of an argument. About 70% of all CR questions are argument-based. Irrespective of the question type (strengthen, weaken, evaluate, or assumption), the key to solving argument-based questions is a deep and clear understanding of the gaps in the argument. Without this understanding, you will continue to fall for the incorrect options and reject the correct one. In this workshop, you will:  ✅ Learn a systematic method to pinpoint the exact logical gap in any argument.  ✅ Develop true critical thinking that extends beyond the GMAT. ✅ Understand how a single word can shift an argument's scope  ✅ Build a repeatable process for all argument-based questions. I'm so confident this will transform your approach that I offer a 100% money-back guarantee. If you don't find it immensely valuable, you get a full refund. No questions asked. Here’s what past participants have said: "This was truly one of the best sessions I've ever had on RC. With most teachers (over my 5 years of GMAT prep), it often felt like they already knew the answers and were reverse-engineering them. With you, however, the process was clear, logical, and repeatable — which made all the difference." "Everything in your session is invaluable for a GMAT aspirant. The depths you make us explore, the way you teach us to self-correct our comprehension and reasoning, improve us way beyond the classroom." Workshop Details: 🗓️ Date: September 6 & 7, 2025 ⏰ Time (IST): Part 1: Sat, Sep 6, 7:00 AM - 9:00 AM Part 2: Sat, Sep 6, 9:30 AM - 11:30 AM Part 3: Sun, Sep 7, 7:00 AM - 9:00 AM  💻 Location: Live Online (Zoom)  💰 Investment: ₹2499 (with a risk-free guarantee) The number of registrations is limited to 20. So, don't delay. Here's the link: https://rzp.io/rzp/cjgapanalysis #GMAT #CriticalReasoning #TestPrep #GMATPrep #LogicalReasoning https://rzp.io/rzp/cjgapanalysis