In a shocking turn of events, it has been confirmed that Hindustan—once a vibrant land of dreams, youthful ambition, and the intoxicating aroma of hope—has officially become the world capital for consulting firms. What started as a noble pursuit of efficiency and corporate growth has mutated into a sprawling wasteland of PowerPoint presentations, with creativity and innovation being sacrificed at the altar of bullet points and sleek slide transitions. Local residents report that quaint villages that were once hubs of artistic expression have now been transformed into consulting enclaves where the air is thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and desperation. Gone are the days when children aspired to be cricketers or poets; instead, they now dream of one day becoming a Junior Associate at a prestigious consulting firm. “I used to want to travel the world and make a difference,” lamented Ranjit Kumar, a former IT engineer. “Now, I just want to calculate the ROI of my dreams.” "The consulting life is truly a gift," proclaimed a recent MBA graduate, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. “We spend our days trapped in a glass box, crafting presentations that will be forgotten before the ink dries.” The young woman, who wished to remain anonymous for fear of being elevated to a managerial position, explained how she spends countless hours analyzing data trends to show that “what we’ve always been doing is actually working.” This, she adds, is the most fulfilling aspect of her new career. Financial analysts have deemed this transformation as heartwarming as it is tragic. The once rich tapestry of culture, music, and art in Hindustan now resembles a monotonous grid of Excel sheets. “Sure, consulting firms generate profits and create jobs, but what about the dreams, the art?” questioned a solemn economist. “Now even the local artists have pivoted; instead of creating music, they’re composing flowcharts.” Indeed, open mic nights have turned into data visualization contests where the most emotional ballad is merely a melodious interpretation of a trend analysis. Local poets have cleverly rebranded their work as “verse analytics,” ensuring they can secure a consulting job on the side. “I used to write about love, despair, and humanity. Now, I just write about the optimization of heartstrings and the fiscal implications of heartbreak,” lamented one poet. The demand for consultants has risen dramatically, and so has the rise in absurdity. Recent reports claim that aspiring consultants are engaging in outrageous “dream sacrifices” where they voluntarily give up the last shreds of their childhood aspirations in a preposterous purification ritual. “I sacrificed my dream of being a pilot,” reported a local youth participating in the rite, “because I realized KPIs were way more practical.” PowerPoint presentations have become an art form, lauded in exclusive galleries where art critiques analyze slide transitions with the fervor typically reserved for a Picasso. The latest exhibition, “The Aesthetics of Agony,” features twenty slides that depict the heartbreaking statistics of unfulfilled ambitions, all set to the soothing sound of corporate jargon. Hindustan’s new motto, “Where Dreams Go to Die and PowerPoints Flourish,” has become a rallying cry for the masses, spoken with both pride and a heavy heart. As consulting firms continue to flourish like weeds in a neglected garden, it seems that hope for a return to creative expression is but a distant glimmer, buried beneath layers of strategic frameworks and implementation timelines. In this brave new world, the only thing thriving is the seemingly endless capacity for slide transitions—heralding not just a death of dreams, but a resurrection into a life of consulting.