Once upon a time during end-sems!

<Some day in the month of May>
<Year 2011>
<End Semester Exam: Information Technology>


I entered the examination hall 15 minutes late today, deliberately. There were a few derivations and formulae I wanted to take a last look at, at ANY cost and having said that, 15-20 minutes definitely wasn't all that costly for me. If you think that's too stubborn of me, I can offer my reasoning for the same. You may or may not find it sensible, but then, whatever. 
See it's simple for me- if I have studied/read/seen/sniffed a topic/page/para/line, I cannot afford to forget it while writing my exam, I mean I wouldn't like to. As in, I don't like the prospect of coming out of the exam hall with this guilt/excuse, "yaar maine wo padha tha, par exam-time pe bhool gayi!! *sob*".


So yes, where was I? Outside the exam hall.
Yes, there I was. At 10:15 P.M I entered the exam hall in some bit of hurry, and went on to the invigilator to get my set of answer sheet and question paper.


Me: Sir, DTU. Software Engineering.
(I'd like to pop in a teeny weeny bit of info here, DCE was 'upgraded' to DTU around a year back. The 'old branches' are still called as the former of the two and the 'new' branches our referred to as 'DTU', which is technically not correct, but that is how it is and 'we' are supposed to be given sheets different from the 'DCE' people, which is why I had to explicitly mention, "DTU". For more info on this, check out...oh come on, don't you have anything else to do?! )
Sir: Communication Engineering? (something like that)
Me: (in a hurry) Yes sir. (The subject was actually IT. But I thought it was much the same.)


I took the sheet(s), went on to my seat- part excited, part nervous 'coz of the time I had lost.


I looked at the paper.


I looked at the paper.


I looked at the paper.


I looked at the paper.
.
.
.
.
And you know what?
I looked at the paper!!!
'Coz that is all what I could do! Like, SERIOUSLY!


Question 1........................WTH?
Question 2........................WTH?WTH?
Question 3........................WTH?WTH?WTH?
Question 4........................okay, a 7 mark question: attempt-able
Question 5........................WTH?WTH?WTH WTH?
Question 6........................6-7 marks, huh?
Question 7........................WTH WTH?WTH WTH?WTH WTH?WTH?
And, over!


I still hadn't got the hang of it! How could it be, not knowing a question or two would've still been tolerable, obvious actually, but THIS was so not done! I definitely wasn't going to pass with 14 marks. Add to it the mid-sem score of 16 and that still would make it just 30! Oh man! How can this happen!


I tried to pacify myself, "come on, start with the ones you know, everything will be fine". Right. I started the (only) one I knew.


"Achcha badla liya sir ne. Damn, why did we bunk his classes! Look now what has he done to us. And this is the subject with the lowest credits!", I was thinking to myself all along. Just then it struck me, "wo wo hold on, why just me? Shouldn't the paper be equally horrific for everyone else? I mean, alright I'm not a topper, but still, I can't be THIS pathetic?!".
Following this wise thought, I looked around a bit, hoping to find some panicking faces, trembling hands or some lines on foreheads, if nothing else. But lo! There were none to be seen! The one in front of me, the one besides, the others around , whoever I saw, was writing! Damn, the future seemed dark.


I wrote around a paragraph. And then, just for the fun of it, just to try my luck (ACTUALLY just to try my luck!) I turned over the question paper. I saw its first page, top-right. It read:

B.E (ECE)

LOLmax!! Did that actually just happen?! Had I really taken the wrong question paper and freaked out myself (totally!) over it! I felt A.M.U.S.E.D!

I went to the invigilator, showed him the paper. He retorted, "pehle nahi dekh sakte the?". Eh, 'wasn't it you who handed it over to me?', I thought. But I felt too funny to be angry. 

I took the new question paper, glanced at it. KIDDO! 

I started writing. Trust me, for no less than ten minutes, I was actually controlling my laughter.

'Coz this had been the second such event. On the first day, the invigilator had handed over the wrong answer sheet to me. By the time they realized it,  more than half an hour was already gone, and by the time I got a new answer sheet, 1 hour was well over. That it wasn't really my fault, and how I ended up in a miserable-to-better-to-fine condition is a rather long story.


I don't mind such incidents if they bring a little variation in life, at least by the end of the day, they have most expectedly given me something worth talking 'bout. Thus, a splash of some color is fine, but make sure the color doesn't spill over all that's important. Like here, it could've been my exam- answer sheet. Holy cow!