One of the strangest things about business school is how difficult it is to explain what you’re learning. You can say “finance” or “leadership” or “design thinking,” but none of those really capture it. What’s harder to admit but more honest is that the things you actually learn are often invisible, soft, emotional, and social. Or perhaps that’s what you learn at the best implementations of how business is taught.
My first year of the MBA at Stanford GSB has been a year of eclectic learning moments.
If you asked me what I learned this past year, I wouldn’t point to a single class. Not because the classes aren’t useful (they are) but because they weren’t the main thing. That’s like going to a great restaurant and only talking about the cutlery. The thing itself was always more: food, people, experience.
The people here are textbooks and mirrors. They teach you about the world (textbooks), but more importantly, they show you yourself (mirrors). When you’re around people this honest, this self-aware, this intentional, you start seeing your own quiet patterns with unusual clarity. It’s unnerving at first. But it’s growth.
Early on, I noticed a shift happening. I wasn’t just watching others; I was watching myself through them. The way I enter a room. The way I listen. The things I say when I’m trying to sound impressive. The things I say when I’m not. I realized how often I was performing without meaning to. And slowly, that performance faded. I started to let my quiet voice speak up.
The quiet voice is the one that says, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Or, “That didn’t feel right.” Or even, “I’m exhausted, and I need a real connection.” At Stanford, I learned to listen to that voice and I found out that it was saying the same things other people’s voices were saying too. When you speak from that place, other people open up. And you learn how to leverage vulnerability as a strength.
That was the real curriculum.
“Is business school worth it? For me, it’s not even close.”
Abhinav Kejriwal, MBA Class of ’26 at Stanford GSB
Some of the most valuable moments for me came in places no one would call “educational.” A café in Medellín. A Kimono manufacturer in Kyoto. Here, I watched how others traveled, how they responded to chaos, to discomfort, to ambiguity. From one vantage point, I learned more in those few weeks than any course could have taught.
For what you learn in a course can be taught. But what you learn in these unique situations cannot.
One example: In Colombia, I noticed that when a group gets too big, intimacy becomes a choice. Everyone had the same itinerary, but not the same experience. Some traveled in crowds. Others found quiet corners to really connect. I started seeking the latter. Small dinners, long walks, honest questions.
In Japan, I saw a culture that thinks in decades. It changed my perspective on time, and on ambition. A CEO there told us, “Our job isn’t just to sell spirits. It’s to preserve rituals of connection.” That’s what business can be: A container for meaning.
And then, there was India. I led 28 classmates across five cities over ten days. I thought the challenge would be logistics. But it wasn’t logistics. Rather, the emotional weight of holding the responsibility to create something meaningful for people I cared about. What I didn’t expect was how deeply I’d learn about myself in the process.
I came to Stanford thinking I’d sharpen my skills. What I didn’t realize was that I’d be rethinking my coordinates entirely. I stopped asking, “How do I build the best business?” and started asking, “How do I design the best life?” Which led to harder questions: What does a good life even look like? Who do I want to build it with? What is worth wanting?
I don’t have answers yet. But the fog has started to thin.
An MBA doesn’t give you clarity on a silver platter but gives you the tools to find it yourself. I started journaling more. Reflecting more. Letting go of the games we play around status and leverage. I reached out when I wanted to, replied when I could. I stopped trying to manage impressions, and just tried to be real.
And in that space, connection happened. The kind that lasts beyond graduation, beyond job titles, beyond time zones.
People ask, “Is business school worth it?” For me, it’s not even close.
If you’re measuring academic rigor, sure, there are more intense places. But what if you’re measuring transformation, self-awareness, emotional range, the ability to understand people, the ability to understand yourself?
Then, this is the best classroom in the world.
I love this German word Fingerspitzengefühl, which means an ‘intuitive fingertip-feeling’ or the kind of sensitivity that comes from immersion. That’s what this year has been. It’s been felt learning, even more than taught learning.
I came here expecting to learn about business. What I actually learned was people. And if you learn how people work, you can build anything.
I think that at Stanford, I’m learning the things that matter most. The ones that don’t fit on an academic transcript, but will stay with me long after.
About the author:
Abhinav Kejriwal has completed his first year of the MBA at Stanford GSB. The former Chief of Staff to the Vice Chairman of the Times of India Group, he completed his undergrad in Computer Science at UC Berkeley. Abhinav received offers from both Stanford and HBS, and shared his MBA admissions journey working with Fortuna Admissions in an interview with Poets & Quants.
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