I am in my final year of engineering, and hopefully in the last year of my formal education. In these 20 years of education, I would have written no less than 1000 exams. Unlike my exceptional facebook, kung-fu, bowling and rubik’s cube solving skills, I must admit that I am pretty bad at writing exams.
At times, I find it funny how we spend half of the years of our lives in learning how to live the other half. And in the other half, our energy, enthusiasm is gone and we have kids, a wife, and an extramarital affair to handle. Jokes apart, and without being philosophical, let me start with my story.
As a school kid, I always knew my Indian roots and acknowledged the fact that Indians discovered zero. My marks spoke of my roots. Although always popular among boys, it was only during exams that I had the honour of being surrounded by girls who never showed me their paper. Of course, I couldn’t rely on my luck and had to study. If only I was a little more lucky, I would have sailed through school without studying much, just like my friends did. They had a better childhood.
The marks I receive have always been insignificant. Rounded of to a few digits, they are always zero. I wonder if I will ever get married if I don’t pass tomorrow’s exams. Pray for me.