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It was that time of year again, the horrid month of March. It was final exam time. Being in the final year of school does add more spice to the already tumultuous affair of final examinations. It was the dreaded board exams. One and a half months of pure and unnecessary torture. Being the very ordinary type of science student makes matters worse. Papers that went missing in Uttar Pradesh caused a last minute moment of panic for the council to set fresh papers. This led to wastage of tons of paper, defeating the whole idea on conserving the environment. Was it déjà vu? Almost I guess. The ICSE 2009 had its own moment of fame which I'm sure most of you guys know about.
The council is such a bully. After lulling us into a false sense of calm by narrating an interesting story about Japanese kites they equivocate and bombard us with literature barely 24 hours later. Torture I tell you. It would be very rude of me to forget our very good friend, the unputdownable (and late) Macbeth - Thane of Glamis, Thane of Cawdor, King of Scotland and royal pain in the ass.
"Truth be told about thy deed
I care not this petty life thou lead;
Let mine own life be spared,
Methinks mine is a life that must be cared!
Thou hast ruined me
No longer a man you can be;
The bell tolls, it's mine own knell
Macbeth, thou hast put me in a shell!"
Finally the exam we were waiting for. Or were we? Creative writing (sorry EVE) was next. As usual no one bothered and rightly so; it was boring. The usual stuff about biodiversity and green revolution; throw in deforestation and global warming, a bit of eutrophication and pollution and it's a cinch. And I must add, a colossal waste of paper too, thousands of students into a score of pages each on average. You, my friend, can do the math!
'Physics, Physics, You dreary bore.
How you make me snore!'
I'm sure you guessed by now that next up was physics. The ISC was a week old and it was time to get physical. (No pun intended). The regular habit of scoring outstanding grades ranging from something very low to something still lower was mere common-piece. I'm talking binary digits here. Funny though now that physics is over, I miss it. It's a funny thing this torture.
Then there was math: Phobia for some, nemesis for many more and best friend for a handful of people. The date couldn't have been more accurate I guess. 14th March. That's right people; the ides of March were celebrated over two days this year. You think I'm being funny? Not quite. The paper was hard. Result? Nothing new for it's something we were used to. Then again reading about teachers appealing for a lenient correction of the math papers was a welcome relief. Perhaps teachers aren't evil people after all. Perhaps I'm wrong but let's not open up that can of worms.
Did I tell you people about the one subject I absolutely hate? No it's not physical education. Not Hindi either. Chemistry! The name itself sounds horrid. Add the boring long and utterly useless reactions. Aargh! Funnily though, I actually enjoyed my paper. Largely thanks to one Bubin Hobbleson, a name we gave to one of my classmates for no real reason. You, sir are something. No it’s not that infamous b-word or the American favourite f-word. We're all cultured people her I suppose.
Perhaps the grades we got in school put us off. I'm talking grades lower than physics here! Or maybe this was science trying to equivocate and lull me into a false sense of hope and take up science in future but no! I'm not stupid. Okay, maybe I am stupid, but definitely not that stupid. And I don't miss chemistry. Not a chance in hell I do.
Cometh the hour; cometh the subject! Computer, Computer Science, call it what you want. It was not tough, it was horribly long. Loads of abstract theories and concepts flying here and there and a very, very sore right arm after three hours pretty much summed up the paper. I'm chuffed that it's over. Good riddance. The only downside to it is the sad thought that we'll never get to use the world's best cyber cafe again! It's a sad cruel life.
Cue Hindi: The horrid subject that had haunted us since class one. That was next, the last exam. It was the home stretch. Judging by the enormousness of the World Cup semi final that was being played as we wrote our exam, it wasn't much of a surprise that we kept asking the invigilator the score every fifteen minutes. Perhaps that what kept us going during the examination for I may never know. What I do know is that there's no more Hindi for me ever again. Good times.
Goodbye Council for the Indian School Certificate Examinations. Fare the well. May we never ever meet again!
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