The tension in the air was palpable. The group of 40 were crowded around the door, waiting, with a bated breath. As the lights came on, the faces became visible. As the clock ticked, the numbers mounted. The trepidation on each face was increasingly evident. They were all waiting. Waiting for the watchman!
'I should not lose out this time. Perhaps, this would the last occasion I will have to attempt this. A last chance of being party to the stellar example of class unity.' My thougts were racing as I raced up the stairs. (Ok! Ok! I confess... It was more of dragging myself up!)
"Twenty-two", went the chorus I reached my destination. Many of my would be partners-in-crime had already arrived. The Counting was a feeble attempt in introducing a much-needed comic relief. It was exciting.
Beating the system is strangely pleasurable. The anticipation of popular rebellion is always shrouded in mystery. It never wears off. The initial excitement, the covertness of the act, the sense of achievement that follows, makes it worth the effort.
The strained muscles on the tired hands were conspicuous. After all, the weight of the book they had held, for more than an hour, could easily give a dumbell a run for its money. The Counting went on. With it, rose the impatience. Before the unity, came the competition. The seats were limited, the contenders - numerous. Mutual tolerance was not the first thing that dominated collective consciousness presently. As moment by moment passed, the jokes flew thick and fast. It was the jokes that highlighted the all-pervading stress. Underlined it.
The confused eyes stared at the alien figures; trying to make sense of the outlandish diagrams, attempting to remember the convoluted examples. 'Arre khali index padh le', sanity screamed from somewhere. I smiled.
9.00 a.m. - that was the time at which the test had been promised. But a gruelling examination had already commenced. A common thread spun through the crowd. An indomitable belief in their teacher's immutable methods. This was what had attracted them an hour before time. The door was bent, but not broken by the incident pressure. On display was some excellent engineering.
A spark of expectation ignited in the crowd. The imminent arrival of the treasured one fired hopes. The watchman climbed up.
'Yay', went the collective exclamation.
The saviour disappointed. He went past his waving fans. But he would return - they knew that. Patient. But he stopped. The armour of the knight lost its sheen. The mob intimidated him. The air was rife with the sense of adventure. Adrenaline was pumping in each body. He took a few courageous steps, towards the periphery - towards me. The pack made way for him.
It happened too fast then. 'Ankur uske peeche jaa..', shouted a voice. I sensed the opportunity and lunged for it. Before the sea became one, the Jews guided by Moses had crossed to the other end. The key went in. Click! The crowd screamed forward, easily rivalling any Virar local. Legs spattered over the wooden dias. First, second, third.... the fourth row, that was the place for me. I rushed, battling the oncoming pressure. The last one was gone. But I was not late yet....
Exhilaration. Ecstacy. I had conquered the second last bench. My fiefdom was established. In half a minute, the class was full. Victory crowned my forehead. My eyes were shining and my hands were trembling, still incredulous of my brave attempt. Finally, passing in today's class test seemed a distinctly realizable possibility.
'I should not lose out this time. Perhaps, this would the last occasion I will have to attempt this. A last chance of being party to the stellar example of class unity.' My thougts were racing as I raced up the stairs. (Ok! Ok! I confess... It was more of dragging myself up!)
"Twenty-two", went the chorus I reached my destination. Many of my would be partners-in-crime had already arrived. The Counting was a feeble attempt in introducing a much-needed comic relief. It was exciting.
Beating the system is strangely pleasurable. The anticipation of popular rebellion is always shrouded in mystery. It never wears off. The initial excitement, the covertness of the act, the sense of achievement that follows, makes it worth the effort.
The strained muscles on the tired hands were conspicuous. After all, the weight of the book they had held, for more than an hour, could easily give a dumbell a run for its money. The Counting went on. With it, rose the impatience. Before the unity, came the competition. The seats were limited, the contenders - numerous. Mutual tolerance was not the first thing that dominated collective consciousness presently. As moment by moment passed, the jokes flew thick and fast. It was the jokes that highlighted the all-pervading stress. Underlined it.
The confused eyes stared at the alien figures; trying to make sense of the outlandish diagrams, attempting to remember the convoluted examples. 'Arre khali index padh le', sanity screamed from somewhere. I smiled.
9.00 a.m. - that was the time at which the test had been promised. But a gruelling examination had already commenced. A common thread spun through the crowd. An indomitable belief in their teacher's immutable methods. This was what had attracted them an hour before time. The door was bent, but not broken by the incident pressure. On display was some excellent engineering.
A spark of expectation ignited in the crowd. The imminent arrival of the treasured one fired hopes. The watchman climbed up.
'Yay', went the collective exclamation.
The saviour disappointed. He went past his waving fans. But he would return - they knew that. Patient. But he stopped. The armour of the knight lost its sheen. The mob intimidated him. The air was rife with the sense of adventure. Adrenaline was pumping in each body. He took a few courageous steps, towards the periphery - towards me. The pack made way for him.
It happened too fast then. 'Ankur uske peeche jaa..', shouted a voice. I sensed the opportunity and lunged for it. Before the sea became one, the Jews guided by Moses had crossed to the other end. The key went in. Click! The crowd screamed forward, easily rivalling any Virar local. Legs spattered over the wooden dias. First, second, third.... the fourth row, that was the place for me. I rushed, battling the oncoming pressure. The last one was gone. But I was not late yet....
Exhilaration. Ecstacy. I had conquered the second last bench. My fiefdom was established. In half a minute, the class was full. Victory crowned my forehead. My eyes were shining and my hands were trembling, still incredulous of my brave attempt. Finally, passing in today's class test seemed a distinctly realizable possibility.
1 comment:
Good posts,Ankur.Your posts are always laced with humour which makes it enjoyable to read.Keep it coming.
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