Examified

               It was as normal a day as any other day at school. Friends, dancing around and making all sorts of Hungama. Teachers were praying for the clock to run faster and ring the bell as soon as possible. They were dead tired after trying to control little devils for a day long.

               For me on the other hand the day was remarkable. Why wouldn’t it be, when it had ended with a clever action of mine? Yes, I was glad and patting my shoulders in thought. In later occasions I came to know that, what I had gone through was called an EXAM. (A tool to sieve out smarts from dumb ones).

               1 hour ago………..

               So, they had given everyone a piece of paper to write on. As I looked everybody had a paper board with them. Now, it struck me that last weekend Ma’am had asked to bring a piece of those with us on the following Monday (As many of friend know how forgetful I am). The instructions were clear, it were to write down all the alphabets in Oriya language (apparently my mother tongue). I was thinking, what the hell was going on? Why did I have to write down 49 characters on a piece of paper? 

                Huh, stupid friends. I saw everyone diving on the paper and writing religiously, like they have been offered with chocolates each to complete the task. Since, I had nothing else to do, I said to myself, let’s do it. The mattress on which we had to sit in the class was hugely perforated, which meant, it was not possible to write anything. Cursing and hoping that they would cancel whatever the drill was, I turned to my dear friend to borrow his board. Lols, He gave a look which meant, he could sue me for taking his property forcibly if I asked him one more time. Yeah, it meant a NO for me.

                 I was a lazy student (and I am that till now). So, hey, I got an idea. They wanted me to write alphabets right? Let’s give them that but instead of 49 of my mother tongue, I wrote 26 of English. Mind you guys, it was a tough job, given the mess I was in. By the time I finished, I had a broad smile and every reason to celebrate. 

                 That was it; every teacher was looking at me and was giving me a smile which was like cream on the top of chicken Do pyaza (Ewww.) It took me at least a week to realize that I was supposed to write specifically for what was asked for. Haa haa(stupid)

That was fun. Those were the days, where everyone treated us like champions, even when we screwed up badly. 

                  I wonder how we got into type casting others now. How performing poor meant a student unworthy of love? Things just change, isn’t it?