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V Gangadhar

The slaughterhouse

Emotion and examination -- do they have to go hand in hand? The HSC and SSC exams being conducted all over the country appear to be taking their usual toll. For a change, the question papers did not leak in Bombay. But the math and science papers for the HSC exam were freely available in Calcutta. While students from Delhi found that the questions in their math paper were not a part of the syllabus. In Bombay, the students had to tackle at least two questions (worth 16 marks) which were not properly worded; in fact, they were clearly confusing.

During this season, the board exams attract wide media coverage. The news clips on various channels contain snippets of students preparing for the exams and their attitudes and reactions moments after they have finished answering their papers. No wonder, today's students always dress in their best clothes -- they could, without a moment's notice, appear on television.

Way back in the early 1950's, I sat for my SSC exam at Santa Cruz High School in Fort Cochin, then part of the Madras presidency. I clearly remember my routine during those five days. I used to get up around 5 am, study a bit, bathe and seek the blessings of my parents. After a light breakfast, I would study some more and leave the house around 9.30 am. The school was within walking distance. None of my family members accompanied me to school. Before I left, my father and mother told me to read the question papers carefully and, time permitting, revise the answers.

Everything was routine and low-key. There was no special treatment for me or my elder sister who was also appearing for the same exam. If our lights burned beyond 11 pm, father would order us to bed. I once asked for some coffee to keep me awake, but was told, "By this time, you should be thorough with your studies. And you need your normal quota of sleep." In fact, there was absolutely nothing to suggest that we were appearing for the first major exam in our lives. "Thousands of students appear for and pass the SSC exam every year. What's so special about it?" asked my father, when I confessed I was a bit queasy over one of the papers. "Everything will turn out to be right," said mother. "You have studied enough; leave the rest in God's hands."

At the centre, too, there was hardly any fuss. Parents or friends rarely accompanied the students. Of course, we did form small batches and indulge in hectic, last minute preparations over certain 'important' questions. And, once out of the hall, we did a quick post-mortem before walking home. As far as I remember, there was no nervous tension or fear among the students. The elders wisely played cool and always stressed the fact that the SSC exam was just like... any other exam.

Several years later, while working in Ahmedabad, I found that the atmosphere surrounding the board exams had changed completely. Even before a student reached standard X, he was made to realise it was an important milestone in his life and his future depended on how he performed in this particular exam. Even the poorest students were coaxed by their parents to attend coaching classes, which were more popular than the regular schools. Throughout their academic year, the SSC students were reminded that they were special people. Their outings were curtailed and frivolous activities discontinued.

The poor youngsters! By the time March arrived, they were nervous wrecks. The atmosphere at home certainly did not help. Everyone at home was grim, many were in tears. It was as though the SSC examinee was being sent out on a suicidal mission where the chances of safe return were practically nil.

On the morning of the exam, the poor candidate was subjected to pujas and prayers. Besides parents, uncles, aunts, other near and far relatives and friends had assembled at his home -- a huge procession led him to the exam centre. He could not indulge in peaceful, last-minute preparation because they were surrounded by tearful mothers, grandmothers, aunts and cousins. The males looked on grimly. The poor candidate resembled a lamb headed for slaughter. His forehead was smeared with all kinds of divine offerings, ranging from kumkum to holy ash.

Gujaratis being Gujaratis, enough attention had to be paid to food. If there was an exam in the afternoon too, parents, relatives and friends arrived at the centre during the recess with vast quantities of food. Dabba after dabba was unloaded from the family car. If the candidate did not feel like eating, there were always fruits and dry fruits specially packed for him.

Normally, the poor bloke was in no mood to partake in this gargantuan feast. Some of the mothers were not above feeding him, though this was resented by the youngster. As the candidate nibbled on something and retired towards some hard-to-find solitude where he could do some revision in peace, his family spread out the goodies and had a nice picnic lunch. It appeared as though they had to sustain themselves with food and sherbet for the ordeal which the candidate had to undergo.

Once the bell rang indicating that the recess was over, there were further emotional scenes. Mothers burst into tears, grannies called out to Lord Ranchhoddas and the male members looked up at the sky. The 'poor lamb' slowly walked towards the hall, turning back all the time. The rest of the family saw him disappear from sight, wiped their tears, picked up the leftover food and returned home. They had to be ready for the next day's ordeal.

Illustration: Dominic Xavier

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