Stupid Sunday Exam (Munirka Part 1)

Of the few places that I have lived in Delhi, the worst stint I remember, was the one and a half years’ stay at Munirka. The house we rented out was a DDA flat behind the market, not far from R.K Puram, where I’d lived for ten years before moving. The reason behind moving to a rented flat nearby was that I was to appear for my tenth standard board examinations that year, and Pappa didn’t want my studies to suffer any long tiresome journeys to school at Vasant Vihar. 

I distinctly remember the day we shifted to Munirka. I was not at all involved in the packing and shifting process. It was a February Saturday and our Final Exams were going on. My sister and I were deposited at Appu’s house, who lived in the building opposite ours at R.K Puram, the only other Malayalee family that lived on that lane. We were not to be disturbed by the shifting. So all I do remember of it, is looking out of Appu’s bedroom window to see our things being slowly and laboriously moved out onto the waiting truck, which then proceeded out of the gate.

In the evening, Amma and Pappa, tired from the official shifting, came to pick us up. After Appu and I made promises of catching up on each other every Saturday over phone, my parents, sister and I, traveled ‘home’ in our maroon Maruti 800.

After some efforts at making the place habitable, and failing out of tiredness, we retired for the night. I slept alone in a space that was once a balcony. It was now partially covered by an extension of walls, a common practice in DDA settlements. Throughout the night, the cold wind seeped in through the windows and the door of the ill-constructed extension wall. But covered in copious layers that we managed to identify and unpack correctly, I fell asleep snugly.

I’d found a small old alarm clock with a steel body and radium glow-in-the-dark numbers on the dial, among the many things left behind by the previous occupants. To my surprise I found it in working order and set an alarm to wake up early the next day. I had my science exam on Monday, and the peeping out of Appu’s window on Saturday had not allowed much studying to take place . 

I woke up in the morning to the ring of the alarm, but apprehensive of getting out of the bed to switch on the light, I waited for the sun to rise. When light started peeping in at the curtains, I pulled them aside without leaving my bed and opened my science text book that I'd left near my pillow the previous night. I remember what I was reading at the time: oscillation. The text had a blue illustration of a pendulum in to and fro motion.

In that quiet morning I was able to cover a lot before the rest of the house woke up. I was happy that I would be able to finish my course well before ten at night. But then it dawned on me - I was to appear for some national exam that day. School students with high merit were identified all over the country and declared eligible for this exam. I forget its name though…

I pleaded with Pappa as I had before, to allow me to skip it. I was afraid that two hours spent there, and more on traveling, would make me lose time unnecessarily, and I’d not be able to finish preparing for Monday’s Final Exam, which for me, was undoubtedly more important. Besides, I had not in the least prepared for this out-of-the-blue exam. And an exam on Sunday!! But just like he brushed away my pleas to postpone the shifting, he did away with my arguments about this Sunday exam too.

I had breakfast and followed Pappa out of the house. He drove me to the examination centre, which if I remember correctly, was a Kendriya Vidyalaya nearby. I was happy to find some of my classmates and friends too sitting there. This gave me great relief from the fear that I was the only one appearing for this stupid exam when everyone else was sitting at home and studying away.

The windows of the classroom we sat in were broken and the wind gushing in through them was bitingly cold, forcing us to wrap our mufflers and scarves tightly around us. The benches were hard, so were the question papers, but the invigilators were indifferent. The subjects were Maths, Science and GK. I had some fun time with my friends, laughing and talking in an ‘examination hall’. But I did not cheat. Once out of the cold school building and into the sunshine, I saw my father. He had been waiting for me all the while at the car, talking to one of my friends' father. He smiled when he saw me coming and we quickly left for home.

On our drive back Pappa asked me how the tests were. I had not prepared an answer for that question beforehand, like I usually do. I think everyone does, for answering this particular question. An answer for your friends, another one for your parents and the truest one you reserve for yourself. I hadn’t even anticipated this question for this useless test at all. Useless more so because it was in the middle of my final exams and my time had already been taken up by the shifting to a friendless place.

I answered him with a question, “Pappa, what does ATM stand for?” I hadn’t known the full form to this abbreviation which was a question on the GK paper. I’d written ‘All Time Money’, recalling what Pappa had told me when I’d asked him as a child. “Automated Teller Machine! You didn’t know this!? What did you answer?” Pappa was smart, so I quit my act. I told him what I wrote and added that it was his fault. He laughed out saying that he must have said ‘Any Time Money’ and not what I alleged him to have said.

I rubbished it all saying that in effect it was a waste of time and that I could have prepared substantially for my science exam meanwhile. He replied in a serious and fond tone “I felt very proud to be waiting for you there” and some more things to a similar effect. That quieted me. I felt proud of myself for making Pappa proud.