A never ending phenomena- Exams

Look at me, look where I’m in. Here I am at my study table, desperately fighting to keep a job, which I’m not very fond off. This is one of the strangest paradox I know of, and it’s happening to me! I’ve to score a minimal 50% and have to mug up a lots of names, numbers, dates, figures and rationales for that. I feel so old to do it & the life is so cruel to me. There was a ‘test-it’ test prior to this and I scored  a whooping 33%. Now you know where I am ended to.

Now as far as my compatriots are concerned, they would come up with clichés like ,’Dude I have screwed it pretty big’. You would sigh with relief that there’s someone to share your misery in spite of the feeling of a weird déjà-vu.  When the results are out the exclamation would be, ‘Dude, I managed to scrape through’. The margin of scrape through is best left to imagination. Anyways I will be left alone to contemplate my plight- the typical Mallu hypocrisy. My real issue is I would be fooled by the question paper. It gives me an impression that I would score the highest- leaving be pathetically deprived when results are out.

I’ve been like this all my life. Exam has always been a struggle. I was never of the ‘group-study’ type as crowds make me fidget. For me to by-heart is extremely painful. So I have to spend long hours working through small passages repeatedly. I always envied people who have to put only half my efforts. One such guy , from my college, used to screw all the girls he could get his hands on & pick up fights with all sundry guys. But he cleared every imaginable exam and today works with the Central Banker. Who said hard work reaps benefits.

When I closed the last exam of my college five years ago, I promised myself not to bother myself again with these. I dreamt of retiring to some sunset beach. Life had something else in store for me. I might have spent a lion’s share of my free time and money to appear for exams- MBA, Bank exams, PG exams, interviews. Next week I would appear for the Armageddon where the 50% mark is to be met or else I’m going to be booted out. I suspect the big shots have developed some sadistic pleasure in seeing poor guys sweat and fret it out.

(To be continued...)

Hey Sam!!!

That was a time , when the popular question among the kids was ' Who's your best friend?'

Oh God and I used to sweat on all these questions on best friend, favorite color, favorite food...

So as not to be left out , I looked around. Best friend is defined as one with whom you can share all your secrets and who's going to be there in times of need.

I looked around. There was this guy with a very very wide grin. He spoke very little. I decided this was the guy with whom I will share all my secrets. So I kept on talking and he kept on listening. And he was such a handsome guy.

Later he took me to his home. He had a father who ran some business in Gulf. But he seemed to be here more than there.  Although he didn't tell me much, I could make out the strains of a dysfunctional family. His dad was pretty much strict man who tried to pester him to greatness (more like mine ). His two sisters were at peek of marriageable age.

By the way, his name was Sam. Internet rage had only started hitting my place. The broadband wave hadn't hit yet. There were internet 'cafes' doing brisk business. I thought creating an email account was as difficult as creating a real post office address. I asked Sam for his help. He led me to the most popular cafe and within minutes I had a hotmail account. And later on with a lot of shyness I asked him to show me how to browse porn. I had read in the magazines that internet porn had become a rage. He taught me the basic steps. Desibaba was the most popular site back then. I went on to become a die hard desibaba fan.

Years rolled on, I totally lost touch with Sam. A few days back, thanks to Facebook, I met him again virtually. He gave me the good news that he's getting married to a girl from a different caste, language.  I wonder how his dad gave the green signal in the first place.

I was stunned. How much life has changed from all those horny teen days. Internet cafes which were reaping huge profits back then died a slow death. Every home went on to have their broadband. Then PC started dying out to sleeker laptops. Right now I'm blogging in from a handheld phone while in a train.

No one uses letters any longer except for the document ridden government offices. I moved on from one email account to another. I can no longer remember my hotmail account. Years ago I fell in love with gmail and am continuing the affair.

You do well Sam. Have a great sexy married life, like all the porn movies we saw

It's complicated

I was browsing through relationship status options in Facebook. I were getting bored of I'm single. It was time for a change. Then came an option : It's complicated.

I wondered what was so complicated.

Back in childhood there was this relationship 'Kutti' and 'Dosthi'. It meant nothing but , in today's terms , Friend nd Unfriend. And it was indicated by the little finger or the V sign respectively. There were no in betweens or extremes. And it was so easy , you give your sharpener or eraser or pencil you are dosti or else kutti .
Today the TV and advertisements have injected the love element into it. I don't still understand the logic.

What I believe is relationships are never meant to be complicated- just a kutti or dosti.