A Strange Encounter

He will always be that guy for me- partially because I am very bad at remembering names- and partially because he embodied virtues that contrasted mine. I am a hard worker (or at least I believe myself to be so), but one thing I definitely do not believe in, is fate. Although, the difference between fate and destiny has been very recently prepared, served, and explained to me by a dear friend of mine (or the only person who is able to tolerate my insanity for the past years). Anyway, maybe I am going to keep that topic for another day. This is about that guy. That carefree, happy-go-lucky, improvident guy. This is about how I met him, and how he evolved from a random guy shedding tears in a train, to that guy in my eyes.

Side-note: My editor, aka Athena, feels that I have been using too many parentheses, so I will try to avoid them henceforth (to the best of my ability).

I don’t usually travel by train to school. No, please do not think that I am one of those daddy’s princesses, who gets blisters if they even put their precious little feet on unholy ground… Okay, maybe I am a daddy’s princess, but not to that extent. The truth is, my school is quite a distance away from my house, and hence I have opted for a more convenient, and expensive, option: the school bus. However, once in twelfth grade, school buses are not really that useful, because you will be having extra “examination preparation” classes, where they repeat the same divine words that they used in the regular classes; so whether you attend, or you don’t, you still do not understand the concept. Even after the completion of the long and arduous final year of school, I still can’t seem to comprehend the need of these, so-called ‘extra classes’.  I mean, ma’am, if I understood it the first time, then I would not have raised a doubt. And since I raised a doubt, it means that I did not understand it the first time, so please do not repeat the same mugged up sentences that you used previously, along with the same PowerPoint slides. The teacher is the same, the choice of words are the same, the textbook is the same, the content is the same, so much so that even the classroom and students are the same. What makes you think I will understand the exact same thing, a second time?

Side-note 2: No, not sponsored by Microsoft… Although that would be very much welcome.

Anyway, on that exceptional day, I distinctly remember that I was going to have my Spanish mock exam, when the rest of the school was enjoying their winter breaks. Actually ‘rest of the school’ was a hasty generalization, for the fact that the tenth graders would be there on that day to collect their report cards.  Hence, no school bus. So I trotted towards the metro station, because as usual, I had tried to revise in the morning, without realizing how late it was making me. Yes, so I trotted along, revising a silly song in my head, in an attempt to remember the conjugations in the past tense: “Estar estuve, Tener es tuve, Ir es fue y tambien ser …”

Now, usually in the mornings, to be able to find a seat in the overcrowded trains, jam-packed with office-goers is a blessing. Thankfully, that day, I had been blessed, and I found myself a corner seat, slyly looking up to detect any old or pregnant people. Satisfied, that there were none, and that I was the rightful owner of the seat, or to me, the throne, I placed my school bag in-between my legs. As the “doors closing” announcement sounded over the speakers, I couldn’t help but allude to the Black Hole of Calcutta, as I felt my perspiration staining into my school uniform, but oh well, I do have a habit of using adynatons. Who would have thought that I would have met one boy, whose teachings I would preach for the rest of my life, because at that moment- that very moment- I heard a small sniff at my side.

Wearing our school uniform, with a blue turban on his head, he had a bespectacled face with a detectable trace of tears running down his eyes to his flushed pink cheeks. “Urggg” I thought, as I tried to keep my sentiments away. I had my Spanish exam that day, and I should have concentrated there. However, I thought that a little concern never hurt anyone, plus, he looked like a Punjabi. This might be my chance at practicing the Punjabi I had learned by listening to Bollywood raps. And therefore, without further ado, I took out one of my earphones, and asked if he was fine. In my mind, it was already established that he was a tenth grader –no need for Sherlock Holmes level of deduction there- only tenth and twelfth graders would be at the school that day, and since I had never seen him in my grade, one option was clearly eliminated, without much mental strain.

His voice, which sounded as fragile as a man’s ego, spoke, “nothing… something just went inside my eyes”, with his voice cracking at the final ‘eyes’. Clearly, it was something. This was a standard excuse for all weeping kind, especially men (clearly because of their big ego, due to which they can’t be caught crying). “Come on paaji, tussi can trust me”, I pushed, beaming with pride, as his face did not flinch at my use of the two Punjabi words in my sentence. Even though it did not garner any suspicion from him about my lack of grasp of his language, it did allow him to open up to me. “Actually, I am receiving my semester examinations’ results today.” he paused for a second to sniff his running nose, and continued, “I always come second or third in class, but this time, I don’t think so.”

Oh! I thought. So this was the case. He was one of those toppers (gosh! I hated them), who could produce an entire ocean from their eyes, even if they lost one mark. I had a couple of that kind in my class, and I try my best to avoid them. Or at least, keep my distance from them. They were the most annoying species of students. After any exam, they would cry on our shoulders for sympathy; and after the results, the same shoulders would be used to heave them up in congratulations for their marks. However, fortunately, my first impression of Sardarji proved to be wrong, as he continued, “My seating place in the examination hall was wrong.”

Seating was wrong? Is he superstitious then? Alright, thinking that this was going to be interesting, I took out my second earphone from my ear, while mentally preparing arguments against superstitions. I questioned him again, pressing for him to elaborate.

“Actually, I usually sit beside the student who always comes first. He is very smart. And because of him, I come second, or at most, third. But this time, I reached the classroom late, and the seat beside him was already occupied. So, I sat wherever I found a place, and I anticipate that my results are going to be super low. The boy beside me does not score very well…” What?!? Never would I have thought that he would cheat! And never would I have thought that he would have accepted it so simply! For him, it was part of his lifestyle! He didn’t feel guilty about cheating! He, instead, felt dissatisfied that he was not able to get his desired seat. He was a genuine simpleton.

That day I gained a new perspective on examinations. The part I wrote about was only a minor section of our conversation, but that was all that took him to impress me. He had already become my that guy. Although we continued talking the rest of the way to school, I was so in shock of his bravery and diligence towards cheating, that I did not want to stop talking to him, to preach about my ideas of honesty and hard work. If I wanted, I could have given him a three hour lecture about examination ethics, but somewhere in me, I knew that he was someone who was so gullible, that maybe he would just nod along with me, but at the end of the day, go back and again find a seat beside the intelligent student.

He was challenging the norms of the current education system. He was the voice rising against the rote method that is taught in schools. Don’t get me wrong, there are many students who have talked about challenging the current education system, but none have challenged and have gone around to talk about it confidently. Although, in my opinion, I am not sure whether he understood the importance of his practice. I agree, that he was applying a short-cut route to something as important as studies. But, on the contrary, that is what makes him stand out. I also agree, that he is standing out for something that is not considered to be ethically correct. But, on the contrary, if he wasn’t the unique individual that he is, someone who cheats in examinations without conscience and readily accepts it to a stranger within two minutes of introduction, then he wouldn’t have been able to be a character of highlight in this blog. That is one achievement that he has conquered, without cheating. Although, to what extent one can count that as an ‘achievement’ is highly doubtful; but I am sure, at this rate, it might just be his only one.

Ps. If you get inspired to cheat from this blog, kindly don’t state me or my blog partner as your inspiration. Thank you.