Examination times were a terror. Not for the fear of writing the examination in the seemingly short span of three hours but more because all the lessons that had to be learnt. The fat books that were a symbol of seniority in the starting of the term were really proving heavy. More time was spent in counting how many more pages of study were left than really memorizing the topics. And my biggest weakness was that I could never cram anything at the last moment. Everything had to be practically explained to me.
Each subject seemed to be worse than the other. English was the easiest subject as it was more practical. Mathematics was also fine as we already had some practice on the sums; just needed to brush up the concepts and theorems. Science was tolerable. It was the easiest to make sense of. For Social, thanks to our wonderful teachers, I never had problems in remembering the empires, revolutions, governments and climates. Last but not the least was Hindi. Ahhh! The literature section was reasonable but the grammar was the worst.
Contrary to English, I could never understand what Kriya, Karan or the other parts of grammar were. In English, they sounded so easy, but I could not understand why they were so difficult in Hindi, though both were principally the same.
As examinations approached, my parents also started getting involved in the preparations. While for other subjects their help was limited to explanations of phenomenon and reactions, Hindi was different. A visit to the local book shops and libraries became routine. Don’t mistake! The visits were not for finding some books to read, but to collect essay books for the Hindi examination.
After much research, my mother found out that invariably, in all examinations, form class 8th to 10th, the essay that was always asked was Mera Bharat Mahan. This essay was always in the prime position in my mom’s ‘A’ list. The other most likely ones in the list were Mera Priya Kavi, Mera Priya Dost or something that would be “Mera Priya”. She had realised that among the three options of essays, the first one was always Mera Bharat Mahan or its variants; the second was Mera Priya “something”; and the third an imaginative topic that needed some raking of brains, like Kisi pahadi sthal ki sair, Barsaat ki ek raat etc.
As I was never a very intelligent child, she felt that attempting the third one would be tough for me. If I already scored less after reading and memorizing stuff, how could I score by writing on something that I had not prepared for, she contemplated. Thus the imaginative topic constituted the ‘D’ list. My mom always banked on Mera Bharat Mahan. “There is so much material available about our country; you’d be a fool not to attempt something that you have learned from your childhood,” she’d persuade. Essays she opined were weighed on content, the use of short poems and quotations apart from the style of writing. She therefore did a lot of homework, or should I say groundwork, for me. While I was at school, she used to visit libraries and bookstores and collect essay books, select paragraphs, short poems and quotations from them which she would use to write a consolidated essay fitting all the parts from the different books into one. She tried to make it simple enough for me to digest it. She had also maintained a separate essay notebook for this purpose.
As soon as I came back from school and dressed myself, she’d hand out the written text and ask me to go through it expecting me to start memorising it immediately while she fed me grub. Yeeooww! The poems felt too dramatized; the quotes ‘made-to-fit’. I found it really hard to actually chew them leave alone digestion.
Before going to the examination, my mom gave all sorts of last moment tips and instructions. Special instructions included writing the Mera Bharat Mahan essay under all circumstances. All said and done, I nodded and sat for the examination. Lazy to write the essay right at the beginning, I left it for the last.
Invariably, the Hindi examinations are always long. By the time I finished all the other questions, there was just 10 minutes to spare for the essay, which I estimated, was less for the well-rehearsed essay. I needed to recollect all the matter, poems and quotations accurately. Uuff! A lot of work! Therefore I opted for the choice I loved most – imaginative topics the ones that constituted my mother’s ‘D’ list.
As I started to write, ideas just kept flowing, the ink in the pen just kept gushing. I was writing non-stop; stopping in-between only to check that I had not exceeded the word count. As the bell rang, I managed to complete with the last word. After tying the paper, I felt a sense of satisfaction inside. As I ran to the bus to go back home, the dread of mom’s reaction caught me. Every mile homewards increased my fear equivalently.
Finally I got down at my stop. My mom was standing at the gate with eager eyes. As I approached, she asked me first how I did. I nodded an animated yes. The next obvious question fired was, ”Did you write Mera Bharat Mahan?” her voice was hard and deep; eyes piercing into mine. Deep inside she had a hunch that I would have either left the essay or attempted the ‘D’ list essay. I avoided her by replying that I wanted to wash myself, as I was hungry. I wanted her to feel safe for some time.
While on the dining table, she asked me again. I gulped not knowing how to react. With my eyes still on the meal, I said “No” and then looked at her. Her eyes were fierce, yet wet. She wanted to scold me for all her hard work that went into the essay preparation; yet she found it hard to scold me. She hoped I had at least written the Mera Priya something. When I mentioned the ‘D’ list essay, she heaved and clinched her fist. Controlling herself, she let off her breath and asked me what I had written in that. I did not know what to answer. I was not sure if I was really ready to take her scolding but was surely not ready to see her fighting with her soul. I calmly told her a few points and left the dining table in a jiffy. I could take in no longer. She should either scold me now or just leave it at this and hug me for successfully coming out of the three-hour torture cell.
She calmed down in a minute, but did not talk to me much. She probably felt it was hopeless to talk to me more about it as I was already done with the exam. But she did not lose hope. The notebook she maintained was ready to use the next year with some addition and deletion. After reading this article I hope, she will not be so disappointed now that I did not attempt Mera Bharat Mahan.
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