Exam.
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In life, there are incidents that remain etched in our minds. One such memory from my college days resurfaces frequently: that of an engineering drawing examination paper. The exam paper typically had one question on either a lap riveted joint or butt joint worth 70 marks and a free-hand sketch of engineering equipment and components for the remaining 30 marks. The pressure was immense, as we had to complete the to-mark question in two and a half hours, leaving only 30 minutes for the other part.
As the examination began, I saw the question was on a lap-riveted joint and immediately got to work. I was well prepared, but my overconfidence got the better of me. As I glanced around at my classmates' papers, I saw their lap joint drawings sprawled across the sheet, while mine remained confined to a mere hand's breadth. I had erred in calculating the square root of the diameter. The scientific calculator beside me had remained untouched, a casualty of my overconfidence. In a matter of seconds, I grasped the magnitude of my oversight and the potential consequences. But nothing could be done.
After the exam, I was so depressed and anxious that I even contemplated drastic measures. The stress was unbearable, and I couldn't eat that day.
On the same day, around 4 pm a thunderous storm raged, and amidst the chaos, news arrived of a lightning strike that had claimed the lives of three young children sheltering beneath a tree. The shock of the tragedy jolted me from my reverie. I rushed to the scene, witnessing a heartbreaking scene and a community united in sorrow. In that moment, my perspective shifted. The insignificance of my academic setback became glaringly apparent. Life, with all its uncertainties, was far more precious than any examination.
With newfound clarity, I resolved to face my results without fear. I focused on other papers, determined not to let this setback affect my future. When the results were finally announced, I received a passing grade in engineering drawing. Perhaps the evaluator overlooked my initial error and considered my entire calculation and the methodology I adopted to draw the diagram.
After completing my professional education, I became a teacher. Around 35 years ago, for the first time, I visited Bangalore as an evaluator for paper valuation. I encountered students teetering on the edge of success, a mere few marks short of the benchmark. Inspired by the messiah who had evaluated my engineering drawing paper, showed me compassion and passed me, I endeavoured to recognise their potential and grant them the small push they needed.
The same ethos carried into my teaching, as I offered options to struggling students during practical exams, seeking ways to assess their understanding rather than merely counting their mistakes. I remained committed to this philosophy until I retired.
The hand that had shaped my approach to assessment remained unseen; his identity and whereabouts were unknown. But his impact on my journey remained undeniable.