It’s pressure time going on for sometime with the upcoming exams. Too many subjects, too little time…it sucks. So I thought of venting out steam here. It’s been a long time since I wrote something funny (the last one was close but not quite). So let me try out something today to see if I have it. It comes out of a bit of frustration though!
I was seeing the Hindi movie ‘Ghajini’ the other day. It is a brilliant movie. Thanks to Aamir Khan nowadays even I am swimming a minimum of 1000 meters in the pool everyday (really, true)! However, the story of the movie struck me and I decided to put myself in the lead role in the sequel of the movie. So here goes:
The afternoon was bright and sunny (couldn’t help getting inspired by my last post). It was a warm summer day and the mood was tense. It was professional exam time. Like everyone, I too was standing outside the exam centre cramming up whatever I can in the last minute. Never know what might be thrown at us. The bunch of worthless, inconsequential, wannabes (CA & CS) that we all are, desperately trying to prove our eligibility to get a membership. Suddenly the gates of the torture chamber (exam centre) opened and we all walked with none of us lifting our heads from the book (though some did out of sheer frustration).
Somehow, I was the object of admiration. As the weather was warm, everyone was wearing short-sleeved shirts and t-shirts and sleeveless tops. However, I was wearing my thick full-sleeved ash colored t-shirt and a brown jacket. People wondered how I was able to take it in. Others thought that I had a pretty damn good collection of ‘information chits.’ The girls simply giggled.
We all took our seats with our books kept safely outside our torture sub-chambers (classrooms). The bell rang and the question papers were placed in front of us. Everybody else started writing and grumbling about the toughness of the question paper.
However, as I read the question paper, I started having a lost expression in my face. I don’t know the answer to a single question. I can’t recall a single thing I read all these months. I don’t even recall where I am…
Oh teri, it is 15 minutes since I last saw my book.
I started fumbling and looking all around. I started scratching my head, as a result of which some hair fell off. Now I have a thin line of baldness at the back and the upper left side of my head. I tried to remember hard, trying to recall anything I know. But my mind was completely blank! I searched all my pockets but all I found was a Rs.100 note (to give to the taxi driver on my way home) and a 25 paisa coin (must be for the slumdogs).
Suddenly I saw something written below my left thumb:
Remove Clothes.
It came as a shock to me. I removed my jacket, and then slowly removed my t-shirt and finally my jeans. My eyes went wide open. I started seeing my own body, feeling everything on it. Everyone in the class started to ogle at my body, especially the girls. But no, I have no six pack, washboard flat abs to show off (it was more of a soft, round and comfortable pillow of a belly). There were tattoos all over my body (done with permanent marker pen, after all, I had to make space for the next set of exams). It consisted of all the answers in our syllabus.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh………………………….!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I let out a loud scream, like a war cry. Rule of Partial integration in Agricultural Income – answer on my right thigh – solved. Internal Rate of Return methodology in Capital budgeting – answer in my right arm pit – solved. Porter’s 5 force model – unheard of – answer on my left love handle – solved. Formulas of Standard Variance in costing – answer on my belly – solved. 5 long questions SOLVED in less than 20 minutes, all objectives accurate – solved, solved, solved. The examiners came running down with water and sponges (to rub off the tattoo) towards me. One punch – all examiners went flying out of the class. I clenched my teeth hard, my breathing was very hard and adrenaline was flowing through my veins fast and thick. The whole class was scared to come anywhere near me (actually, they were too busy jotting down all the answers that were available on me).
Suddenly a lady approached me very cautiously while I was writing furiously. She quickly placed a large sheet of paper in front of me and immediately hid under the nearest bench.
Oh teri, photos of everyone in the class, including mine, that too with names and addresses written beside them. That too asking for my autograph. Now that’s my kind of thing!
I signed and started remembering all my exam mates’ name. Who’s the girl sitting in the first bench laughing hysterically and showing her answer scripts to everyone?
Oh teri, her name is Kalpana. What’s her address? Got it! Her number? Bas ek number-ki Guzarish, fir hogi khushiyon ki baarish! :D
I finished writing all my answer scripts in one and a half hours. In the duration, I forgot everything 5 more times. But thanks to my tattoos, I ‘knew’ all the answers. However they were no examiners left. I had sent them, no, flew them all to the casualty ward. After the exams I started dating Kalpana by assuming a fake identity, and started a blog to write about my daily activities.
The institutes directed me to consult a psychologist if I wanted to pass. They were afraid that if they flunk me, I might invade their offices (which won’t be such a nice idea). So I went to the psycho’s clinic for a session. He diagnosed me with ‘Cscagrade Amnesia.’ It actually exists in mild forms among all the institutes’ students. However, mine was an extreme case, first one to be reported.
Both the institutes passed me (after realizing the cost of providing free medical treatment to all their staff and repairs to all their assets would cost much, MUCH more than making me a member) and gave associate membership as soon as possible. I soon recovered from my condition and have now started terrorizing all my clients, minting big money in the process. Life’s good!
However, I got the news that nowadays more and more students have started getting afflicted by this extreme case of ‘Cscagrade Amnesia’ and that the examiners have resorted to using hose pipes. Medical Insurance (U/s 80D, I think…??) is too expensive.
(Remembered Emma a lot while writing this. She might have enjoyed this story a lot, hopefully. Te Amo wherever you are! I’m going to take a very important exam in few weeks. The one she wished I pass in one go. Hope I can fulfill her wish…)
