It was time for unit tests. Tests are an integral part of the engineering curriculum. The departments are varied and their schedules vary. Amongst all these, I landed in the survey lab as an invigilator. It was surprising to see tall tables and steel stools for the students. There were a little more than twenty-five of these. A few tables without the stools stood lost kind.
The students appeared to enjoy the space and were comfortable in their seats. I distributed the question papers and answer sheets. I circulated the attendance sheet and asked the students to leave the space for the absentees to identify who was absent.
After a short while, a boy with a walking stick walked in. The boy was accompanied by a faculty member who explained that he needed to be adjusted in the survey lab as it was more comfortable for him. He said he could not sit as his ligament would stretch, he showed me some places on his leg externally and said that he had met with an accident and was getting better. The boy’s walk was tedious, but he seemed patient. He chose the second table that was empty.
I offered him a seat. I said, ‘Do you stand and sleep, never sit’. He nodded and said, ‘I must follow this for a few more weeks before I’m healed. A boy in the central row with a beaming smile beckoned me, calling me towards him. When I reached his place, he whispered, ‘The boy who sits on the bench there comes a bit late every day.
I said, How late does he come?
He replied, ’10 to 15 minutes late’.
I exclaimed, ‘Every day?
He replied, ‘Yes ma’am, please do not give that boy the seat…where will he sit when he comes?
Looking at him, I asked gently, ‘Is he your friend?
He said, ‘No, nothing like that’
I lowered my voice and said, ‘We will see when he comes.
I noticed two extra seats at the end of the class. The boy who had undergone the operation was deeply involved in writing his paper. He did not carry a scale or a pencil box, he drew with his pen and wrote as well as he could.
I kept my gaze moving between the tables when I noticed a student entering the room. He was 16 minutes late. The boy who had told me about him looked at me from his place smilingly indicating that he was the one who came late every day..
I handed him the question paper and answer sheet and sent him to the cornermost table.
Later I asked him, ‘Why are you late for the exam?
He whispered and said, ‘I have a problem,’ I said, Every day? What’s it?
I felt the problem could be a grave one.
He whispered, ‘The washrooms are never vacant.
I said, ‘Why don’t you wake up early
He said, ‘I study till late in the night
I asked him to take his seat and there came the next absentee…
I exclaimed, ‘Who are you?
The boy who came late nodded and called me towards him whispering, ‘ Ma’am we both have the same problem.
‘Please meet me after the exam, I said
The hostel for boys is located just a short distance from the institute. The rooms have attached washrooms and are shared by two or three roommates depending on the size of the room. Although the students were making excuses, I could not send them back.
Meanwhile, a girl came up to my seat for a supplement. I guided her to write the number against her signature on the attendance sheet according to the university regulations. Another student did the same. I said, ‘Pick the piece of thread to tie your papers.
After looking at me for a moment, the boy on the second bench smiled, I gestured and asked, “What now?” The boy showed me a stapler and said, They can use it.”
I told the students to borrow the stapler.
There was silence for some time. There were a few minutes left to wind up.
The girl who had taken a supplement tied it up with the thread and submitted her paper saying, ‘Ma’am they need to tie the sheets like this for the university exams.’
I nodded, but the one who had borrowed retorted saying, It’s alright for units’
The girl walked out saying, ‘ One needs to practice for university exams.’
The latecomer was ready to submit his paper. I was surprised he could finish it in half the time. He said he had checked everything but there wasn’t anything visible on his sheet.
The boy with pain in his leg finished his paper and gathered his walking stick. I asked the cheerful boy to help him but the boy insisted on walking away without anyone’s help.
The boy with the smiling face lingered outside the class.
‘This stapler doesn’t work’ said the boy who had borrowed the stapler.
I said, ‘You tie it with a piece of thread.’
He did not like it but the smiling boy standing out asked me whether he could check it.
I said, ‘You can’.
He opened the stapler and examined it patiently. The pins had got jammed on one side and the stapler seemed stuck at that point.
The smiling boy lost his smile for a while, he pulled a scale from the seated boy and used it like a crowbar to open the fix. The fix opened and the stapler started working.
The seated boy thanked him. The smiling boy looked at me in triumph. I said, That’s good, the fix is fixed! Would you like to join the Literary Club?
The boy seemed half mind to do it. He said, What’s that?
I said, 'I would let him know later.
The time was up and the students had almost finished submitting their papers.
I gathered my things and started walking towards the examination centre. Each day brings its own unique experiences with students.
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