Examination Hall is like a battle field – every soldier fighting his own battle his own way. Some fight fairly while others play their tricks. They come with all the preparations to befool the invigilators. The serious and studious boys are quite normal anxiousness apart. The weak and the tricky have all anxiety writs upon their faces.

The first moments when the doors are not yet open are the most confusing moments for all. As soon as the doors are open the candidate storm in the hall in search of their seats. The situation of their desk is important for them. The chaps on the first seats of the rows are a bit uncomfortable. See that boy who is rather at the verge of crying. He will always be under the very nose of the invigilator who may look into his answer book while he passes by.

I find the girls a bit more composed. They are dotted throughout the hall. They are more prepared and have more confidence. But don’t think they are not tricky. They just feel that the invigilator too will be a little courteous to them. Who knows what will happen to them if the invigilator is strict.

The answer books and the papers too are distributed. The shades, colours and impressions on the faces glow and fade. ‘All’s there’ whispers a boy to a girl, but I can’t recollect many things. Won’t you keep your answer book a bit close to me’. ‘Don’t talk’ comes the invigilators shot. But the whispers and piracy continues.

Good God! The first casualty is a girl – a smart one. Her efforts to push out her paper bullets from the arm of her blouse didn’t fructify. The invigilator nearby was sharp enough to call a lady invigilator. A volley of paper coils were pulled out. The whole hall was under the strain of strictness—a hell for the shirkers, a heaven for the studious.