The three hours.

Posted: September 23, 2011 in Rants
Yeah, I’m referring to those dreaded three hours when you are supposed to scribble on that piece of  paper fervently as though your life dependent on it. The last minute expert that I am, my hands would literally run all over the paper for dear life.
And the result was not such a pretty sight given that I have the most illegible handwriting. Not that I have ever made an attempt to change it but rather had given up. There were heaps and heaps of cursive writing books that I had filled in dribbling the blue ink all over and finishing bottles and bottles of  Camalin Royal blue ink. At times it was all done with utmost discipline sometimes just sheer frustration and mostly done forcibly. And being just so naive, I thought the need-for-good-hand-writing nightmare would stop when I get into college. The ever so ignorant me!!! And to be truthful, I never thought I needed it all, in my mind, my letters looked just so beautiful. Siigh! Plato said it right – “Beauty lies in the eyes of beholder”. 

Coming back to the three hours, I would while away the first 2 hours completely recollecting the obscure details that I may have to write for the last question which I might have studied in wee hours. And from the time I was bestowed with a watch, I started using it for the greater good. The Samaritan that I am, I would use the watch to keep track of trivia which otherwise would be forgotten like, who turned the page first, whether the topper was the first one to ask for the first additional sheet, who asked frequently for additional papers and similarly who finished when.

And with so much to do in 3 hours, towards the end of my college years, I totally stopped answering the last question about which I might have thought all the time. And being in computer science, also meant I had to write page after page which just was not my cup of tea. I would rejoice if it was a algorithm paper or the mathematics one. And I had totally given up on others.

But I enjoyed it all –  The mad rush, the gush of adrenaline, the incomprehensible pace at which the hand would move and with just no time to realize all of it happening at once.

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