English Exam. The horror!!!
Sometimes I think that it is Mother English's way of taking revenge.
I have now passed out of school, and, till now, have avoided all nostalgic references to it, because of the understandable reason that I am not quite old-crock enough to do so.
But there is one aspect (and I have no doubt I will find more) which I defenitely would like to talk about.
English classes were always the best part of the day, at least on the days which didnt have PT classes. Our teacher was such a kind and nice person that her protestations and anger would have absolutely no effect on our talking and behaviour. We still would beat each other up, we still would spew abuses across the classroom, and we still would poke fun at the lessons we were made to read.
For many people, such a thing as an English notebook was non-existent. For me, I possesed only one out of the three text books I was supposed to possess.
So, as you might imagine, English was a pretty laid-back and unimportant affair, something we never took seriously.
I think English had us back on the day of the exam. And no, the exam was never difficult, I am not referring to difficulty here, I refer to another factor which is chilling. The Boredom.
3 hours. 3 horrible hours sitting in an exam hall, after having rushed through the passage excercises and prose section at top speed, we come to the writing section, where we are asked, for example, to write an essay on how the tourism in Thailand has progressed since the advent of electric tuk-tuk's, or how the 'ancient culture' of India has been rendered meaningless ever since the youth started wearing 'jeans and t shirts', or how agriculture has progressed since the advent of scientifically modified seedlings, or how 65% of students between 14 and 16 years old eat more potato chips than their counterparts 20 years ago.
Sometimes I think they select the topics on purpose. They sit down huddled in a tight group aorund a small table, passing around chits with names of boring topics written on them, and chuckle to themselves each time they come across a particularly boring topic. " Imagine the look one their faces when they come across THIS one!! Oh, WONT they be crying with despair, haha!!", and in such a manner they will converse.
So I sit there, my mind blank, trying to think of a way to pass the time. The invigilator has started to yawn helplessly, and stagger around in a sleepy stupor. Obviously, the effect has started rubbing off.
I try to stare out of the window. The invigilator, sensing this golden oppurtunity, rushes at me with an animal roar, telling me to look at my paper and nowhere else. Foiled.
I cant even hum a tune. I feel lazy to think. I cant lie down, because the invigilator will think I died, and call the authorities and rush me off to the office. I cant doodle fantasy cars, because I will be shouted at. How DOES one pass the time?
The 3 hours eventually pass. I while away all the time until the last ten minutes when I realise that I have 2 letters and an essay to do, and start scribbling away frantically, snarling at the invigilator for additional sheets. I set one or two on fire, and fling them away, and ask for replacements. My mates aroudn me point at me, the thought foremost in their mind being "Boy, look at Hari. He really must have studied like hell. Look at him go!!"
The bell rings, far too soon. I am still writing frantically, my pen is a blur. The invigilator starts threatening those who are still writing. I manage to finish just when they start telling us they cant accept our papers anymore, get up, rush towards them, and give them the paper, muttering about how they really should give us more time to write english exams.
Outside, I am all professionalism, complaining about the lack of time, musing about whether I should approach the authorities telling them to give us more time. Of course,all that is forgotten in half an hour, and yet another terminal english exam passes.
Sometimes I think it is Mother English's way of taking revenge
I have now passed out of school, and, till now, have avoided all nostalgic references to it, because of the understandable reason that I am not quite old-crock enough to do so.
But there is one aspect (and I have no doubt I will find more) which I defenitely would like to talk about.
English classes were always the best part of the day, at least on the days which didnt have PT classes. Our teacher was such a kind and nice person that her protestations and anger would have absolutely no effect on our talking and behaviour. We still would beat each other up, we still would spew abuses across the classroom, and we still would poke fun at the lessons we were made to read.
For many people, such a thing as an English notebook was non-existent. For me, I possesed only one out of the three text books I was supposed to possess.
So, as you might imagine, English was a pretty laid-back and unimportant affair, something we never took seriously.
I think English had us back on the day of the exam. And no, the exam was never difficult, I am not referring to difficulty here, I refer to another factor which is chilling. The Boredom.
3 hours. 3 horrible hours sitting in an exam hall, after having rushed through the passage excercises and prose section at top speed, we come to the writing section, where we are asked, for example, to write an essay on how the tourism in Thailand has progressed since the advent of electric tuk-tuk's, or how the 'ancient culture' of India has been rendered meaningless ever since the youth started wearing 'jeans and t shirts', or how agriculture has progressed since the advent of scientifically modified seedlings, or how 65% of students between 14 and 16 years old eat more potato chips than their counterparts 20 years ago.
Sometimes I think they select the topics on purpose. They sit down huddled in a tight group aorund a small table, passing around chits with names of boring topics written on them, and chuckle to themselves each time they come across a particularly boring topic. " Imagine the look one their faces when they come across THIS one!! Oh, WONT they be crying with despair, haha!!", and in such a manner they will converse.
So I sit there, my mind blank, trying to think of a way to pass the time. The invigilator has started to yawn helplessly, and stagger around in a sleepy stupor. Obviously, the effect has started rubbing off.
I try to stare out of the window. The invigilator, sensing this golden oppurtunity, rushes at me with an animal roar, telling me to look at my paper and nowhere else. Foiled.
I cant even hum a tune. I feel lazy to think. I cant lie down, because the invigilator will think I died, and call the authorities and rush me off to the office. I cant doodle fantasy cars, because I will be shouted at. How DOES one pass the time?
The 3 hours eventually pass. I while away all the time until the last ten minutes when I realise that I have 2 letters and an essay to do, and start scribbling away frantically, snarling at the invigilator for additional sheets. I set one or two on fire, and fling them away, and ask for replacements. My mates aroudn me point at me, the thought foremost in their mind being "Boy, look at Hari. He really must have studied like hell. Look at him go!!"
The bell rings, far too soon. I am still writing frantically, my pen is a blur. The invigilator starts threatening those who are still writing. I manage to finish just when they start telling us they cant accept our papers anymore, get up, rush towards them, and give them the paper, muttering about how they really should give us more time to write english exams.
Outside, I am all professionalism, complaining about the lack of time, musing about whether I should approach the authorities telling them to give us more time. Of course,all that is forgotten in half an hour, and yet another terminal english exam passes.
Sometimes I think it is Mother English's way of taking revenge
posted by islero88 at 12:58 AM
3 Comments:
yes..i remember my first english exam in 11th..i was in the middle of cooking crap for my essay when i fell asleep..i woke up fifteen mins later thanks to a restless crow who wanted some attention..gosh..english exam was a pain..but sumo rocked didnt she!!!
haha! lmao!
Wow..!! I loved it! :)
Me too - English class was the ONLY class I liked! :)
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