Unfortunate circumstances of my life have forced me to visit my blog again. It's weird how a short write up on your blog becomes the best therapy session you've ever been in.
Ironies. The world is filled with them and we're no strangers to them. But I'd say a student of class twelve in India has seen ironies not just up close and personally, but in its more brutal and sadistic form. Take me for instance. I love English and plan to pursue it in the near future. For a fifty mark paper, I work my butt off, practicing almost all questions and writing letters. Some would say I go overboard and I don't blame them for thinking so. But, I love English so much that it doesn't feel like a burden or a job doing those questions.
Sadly, results don't reciprocate my feelings. I was completely shattered today when I came to know of my marks. Seeing myself lose twenty marks in just a few drops of red ink and crosses, I was given a violent shove back to reality.
CBSE wants what you don't. It wants you to go back on your vocabulary, to reset your knowledge about phrases that you pride yourself on. It wants clear answers with zero emotions and it wants writing to be soulless and boring. Basically, it wants you to kill any happiness or ecstacy associated with writing and wants to turn it into any other subject, a quest solely for marks to get into a good college. Because that's how we educate people, by turning them into savages running after numbers rather than help them strive for perfection or enjoy the childish lines of the poem printed on their paper.
For a girl who likes using phrases from Shakespeare or even quote Severus Snape's dialogues in perfect situations, it's completely a dream crusher to see her words swim in a sea of red ink, struggling to breathe in a world that's enclosed in a coffin of percentages and grades. The challenge before her now is to give in to this world and slowly morph with its people and get in line to enter the rat race. Writing would now come from the hand and not the heart.
Ironies. The world is filled with them and we're no strangers to them. But I'd say a student of class twelve in India has seen ironies not just up close and personally, but in its more brutal and sadistic form. Take me for instance. I love English and plan to pursue it in the near future. For a fifty mark paper, I work my butt off, practicing almost all questions and writing letters. Some would say I go overboard and I don't blame them for thinking so. But, I love English so much that it doesn't feel like a burden or a job doing those questions.
Sadly, results don't reciprocate my feelings. I was completely shattered today when I came to know of my marks. Seeing myself lose twenty marks in just a few drops of red ink and crosses, I was given a violent shove back to reality.
CBSE wants what you don't. It wants you to go back on your vocabulary, to reset your knowledge about phrases that you pride yourself on. It wants clear answers with zero emotions and it wants writing to be soulless and boring. Basically, it wants you to kill any happiness or ecstacy associated with writing and wants to turn it into any other subject, a quest solely for marks to get into a good college. Because that's how we educate people, by turning them into savages running after numbers rather than help them strive for perfection or enjoy the childish lines of the poem printed on their paper.
For a girl who likes using phrases from Shakespeare or even quote Severus Snape's dialogues in perfect situations, it's completely a dream crusher to see her words swim in a sea of red ink, struggling to breathe in a world that's enclosed in a coffin of percentages and grades. The challenge before her now is to give in to this world and slowly morph with its people and get in line to enter the rat race. Writing would now come from the hand and not the heart.
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