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25. EXAMS
I saw a fat man approaching our classroom. He was probably our supervisor. I spotted a big envelope in his hand which had the attendance list, answer sheets and seating arrangement stickers. Well hologram was a new fad that the university looked upon with high hopes. They thought of making things original and hence so much of circus for wasting time of students.
The man seemed to be a serious fellow with thick rimmed glasses that made his eyes look like that of a frog's.
The classroom witnessed a swarm of students entering from both the doors of the room. That really pacified me in a way. Many people had flunked this subject. I mentally patted my back for my achievement.
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"Trust me Ma, there are many who have failed this subject"
"Don't tell me about others. Tell me about yourself"
"Let's talk about the subject then. The subject sucks ma. You know what, neither Satan nor Yama are required to suck out souls from our bodies. This subject does that work wonderfully."
My mom glared at me with a tinge of hopelessness in her eyes.
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The debate proved me right today. There were indeed many many students who were reappearing. I had an air of victory surrounding me which did fuel my pride.
Answer sheets were distributed and filled. The man rushed to and fro with the answer sheets as some VIPs arrived late. We waited for the bell to ring and the question papers to be thrown at us. Our fat supervisor rushed fast with small steps keeping one paper on a bench.
My only aim was to beat time and finish the crap fast. Was failure like this? Did it really made you lose interest? Or was this simply identifiable to me? Exams were dreaded especially after failures. University was unpredictable. You slog day in and day out but at the end you either curse or hail your luck. The quality was good they say. But that was a thing of past. Today I look around only to find the quality deteriorated. Teaching, examination and evaluation all sucked. I was never scared of failures or setbacks but revisiting the university exams made me hate everything.
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"What will you write?", Vivek one of my seniors asked me on an inter-college technical event where I happened to grab the first position in seminar and poster presentation. Gift of gab was rare and am proud to possess it.
" I don't know."
"I suggest you work on our university"
"That should be a sting operation and shouldn't be announced"
We laughed at the sick joke which might have sounded meaningful for intellectuals like us. Others felt it was exaggerated. For them I would advise always "kuch din toh guzariye university me".
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I stared at the ceiling tired of all the unwanted thoughts. A peon came with a tray of bisleri bottles and glasses. Bisleri was a magic potion indeed. It would stop the sweating of some, made someone rush to the washroom or made some of them sweat. Anxiety was a funny feeling. Some felt usually hot and some cold. It was indescribable.
I saw a few of them drink water and rush to the washroom. The cycle continued. Either they were done with it or they were confused as to what kind of Harvard performance was expected out of them. This was the funniest part. The teaching standard was less than of a street, class tests were of national level and university exams were of international level. God knows what the obsession was. The evaluation was beyond the barriers of these levels. I wonder which universal parameter would suffice to explain it.
I scribbled a few answers then stretched out my hands as speed was never my forte.
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"Increase your speed Drishti", my mom snarled as I practised for my tenth boards.
"Am writing well. What's the issue Ma?"
"Fast fast more fast"
"Ma, this isn't a car race."
"This is rat race"
"Then I don't want to participate Ma", I scoffed.
"You'll drown in the sea of competition"
"Please improve your metaphors and similies Ma."
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I was never much competitive except when anyone challenged me by words or actions. I was easy to go and concerned only of my improvement. But my mother felt my ideals were shallow that were responsible for my downfall.
Whatever that was the hour hand ran and we were done with first half of the exam. More one and half hour and I was left with diagrams. Drawing was something I detested long time. If this wasn't the case you would have found me in some stream of biology except medical as blood and the hospital smell made me nauseous.
I happened to lift my eyes off the paper and they met with the guy sitting diagonal to me.
Such eye locks were frequent in an exam hall. Either two people were stuck on some answers or bored of writing or busy daydreaming. I couldn't figure out the reason behind this eye lock. Instead my mind played a song of some 60s. The song whose lyrics I had forgotten for a very long time and see the place and time I recall them.
"Nigahein milane ko jee chahta hai", my mind hummed in the exact tune. No my voice no where near that of Aasha ji's melody but I loved to sing IN MIND. I tried to shut my brain off to concentrate on the remaining paper.
The remaining duration was successfully crossed and as our papers were collected I ran outside. I never loved discussing papers. Never. I wondered how people could go on with the shit even after a dreadful span of so many hours. I only knew three things: board an auto, reach home and stuff my stomach with whatever delicacies or not so delicious things.
Exams went on the usual way. I felt a huge burden off my shoulders as I was done with them. I counted what all I had sacrificed for this: Theatre, Novels, Ravi and of course my sanity which was now far fetched.
O Humnava Tum Dena Saath Mera
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