Today, our son went to take his final exams for Plus One, and I couldn’t help but notice he seemed unusually happy and relaxed—hardly a hint of tension. He had the same calm attitude during his tenth board exams. Our daughter is no different. She’s perfectly content not being the class topper and even invites the top students to our home if they’re too afraid to face their own families for not scoring full marks.
But when I was a student, I was terrified of exams. I had
recurring nightmares about failing, and sure enough, it would always come true.
During my BA finals, I suddenly forgot the name of one of the main characters.
I tried desperately to remember, but nothing came to mind. As time was running
out, my brain seemed to shut down. Remember, problems are a part of
life but overcoming them is the art of life. An inner voice told me to
name him Mr. Dash. So, I wrote pages about Mr. Dash.
The Master’s finals was even worse. We had a few subsidiary
subjects to study, but I did thorough research and discovered that Samson
Agonistes appeared in every question paper across all sections. I figured
that if I studied only that, I could breeze through the exam. Confidently
prepared, I walked into the exam hall, ready to write about Samson. But
when the question paper arrived, luck had other plans—not a single question
about Samson. Remember, problems are a part of life but overcoming
them is the art of life. This time,
the inner voice said, “Don’t give up, Nisha. Write about Samson.” So, I did. I
wrote everything I knew, so thoroughly researched and well-articulated that the
invigilator forgot what they had asked and gave me good marks.
In yet another exam for Master’s final, I suddenly froze. I
had no idea what to write next. The questions stared back at me, completely
blank. I looked around and realized I was the only one not writing. Everyone
else was scribbling away, asking for more sheets. Panic set in. In that moment,
I turned inward and felt a bit spiritual. I began writing, “Hail Mary, full of
grace…” I filled the allotted pages with the prayer, then stood up and asked
for additional sheets, continuing, “Hail Mary, full of grace…” I wondered what
Christ would think, so I added, “Our Father, who art in heaven…” When the bell
rang, I checked everything—perfect, all my prayers neatly written and
well-structured. I tagged my sheets and submitted them.
For those wondering about the outcome, yes, I did earn a
Master’s in English Language and Literature.
But why am I telling you this? When I see my son and
daughter approach their exams with such calm and composure, I can't help but thank
me for them.
As their mother, I’ve never really been one to fuss over their studies or exams, not even the final ones. It’s not that they are exceptionally brilliant or studious.
It’s just that:
- When you stop taking responsibility for them, they learn to take it themselves.
- Anything forced breeds resistance.
- Fear gets you nowhere.
- Let them fail; that’s how they learn.
- Don’t push them to be the best—after all, it’s lonely at the top. 😉
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