Lying awake in the middle of the night, dreading failure. The fear of exams begins when the hall tickets are handed out. It chews you. It changes you. It makes you crabby.
An intern at Metro Plus, I casually share what has been my experience facing exams, and pronto, I am sent off to observe a bunch of engineering students and their overnight preparation for an exam. I morph into a fly on the wall, keeping the students in the dark about my assignment. Now that their exams are over, I can probably talk about how the group coped with that stressful night.
I invite myself to a joint study by an all-boys group preparing for an exam on ‘Strength of Materials’, a tough subject, I am informed, in a civil engineering course. I try to be helpful so that they let me stay on, fetching them water every five minutes, even when nobody asks for it.
It is 8 p.m. and the boys have a lot of ground to cover. At this rate, I doubt they will finish revising all the chapters. They realise this themselves and try to cram as much learning into an hour as possible. This hour of intense study is made bearable by the comforting thought that a 15-minute break awaits them at the end of it. The break is spent munching on generous packets of potato chips, drinking from a maxi-sized bottle of cola and nibbling on a tray-load of small eats.
The study break extends well beyond the stipulated 15 minutes and it takes a conscientious kid to goad the group back into business.
Kartik shouts in consternation. “Oh my God! We have only a few hours left for the exam!”
Startled, the group returns to its books and there is a flurry of turning sheets and the tired scratching of pens. Ram helps Bharath solve a problem. Tarun sits in a corner and tries to learn formulas by rote. Interestingly, Kartik who ordered the group back to its books, is busy with his phone.
Short eats and lemon tea arrive at regular intervals, meant to keep the boys awake through the night. Sleep is not their only foe. They also have to battle the urge to watch the IPL. A match is in progress. Kartik and Bharath repeatedly check their mobiles for match updates. Eventually, they give in to temptation. They watch the match on television.
It is clear that nothing is serious anymore. Unlike Kartik and Bharath, Tarun is not bowled over by the IPL. He is, however, held captive by something else. He multi-tasks, trying to memorise a theory and listen to his favourite song at the same time.
“I don’t understand a thing in fluid mechanics and electronic microprocessor. I hope no questions are asked on them,” cries Ram, jolting the other boys out of their reverie.
As the clock ticks and the night races to meet the dawn, the boys look worried but are also more focused. Their noses buried in their books, they look up occasionally to check the time.
