Musings of an Undercover Yogi

Her palms were sticky, forehead covered in beads of sweat. It was time. Already? Where did two hours go? As her classmates submitted their answer sheets, her mind raced, trying to focus. She hadn’t finished. Damn! The forgotten nuances were nagging her now! She sat clutching her answer sheet hard with both hands, trying to remember what was taught.

Suddenly, she found herself surrounded. Her vision blurred. Her friends stood in tall shadows around her, forming a circle. “Did you finish? What do you need?” She looked around, past her friends. Silhouettes were moving forward to handover their sheets, some were chitchatting, some leaving. Heart pounding, she looked over her shoulder, through the gap between two friends, towards the larger desk. Her vision cleared. Ma’am L sat at her desk, calmly receiving and organizing answer sheets in bundles. She was focused at her task. 

Her friends opened textbooks and notebooks, quickly pointing to various passages, clarifying her doubts. Everything fell in place as she tried to fit the previously forgotten nuances among the answers she had already written. She scribbled furiously in vertical margins, and in between horizontal lines filled with beautiful, black handwriting. Finally, she finished. It was time to submit the answer sheet. 

A look at the clock told her that she was late by 20 minutes. Worrying about a severe reprimand, she handed over the sheets to Ma’am L, who took them in loud silence. Not once did she look at her. What a relief that Ma’am L is so kind and considerate, she thought. Peace washed over her. 

Suddenly, scrolling through the results list, she couldn’t find her name. Roll number 6. Damn! Where’s roll no. 6? Lemme check again. 1, 2, 3, … here’s 6. A stranger’s name. Swept by confusion and dread, she checked the names of the previous 5 roll numbers. Yep, all correct, all her friends. So her name wasn’t on the list.

Like sensation returns slowly to a paralyzed body part, the understanding came to her in slow-motion. She was expelled! In utter panic, she went to talk to Ma’am L. It was a Friday. Ma’am L looked at her for what felt like the first time in a long time. “Go home, get some rest,” she said with her trademark calm. “We’ll discuss this on Monday.” What will I tell my parents, she thought, hyperventilating. 

And that’s how I woke up this morning. Hyperventilating from the dream (nightmare?). Today was the last day of my daughter’s half-yearly exams. Ma’am L happens to be her homeroom teacher. Just that in the nightmare, I was the unfortunate roll number 6! 😰🤢🥶🥵 

– Bijita Dhar