We were a compact gang. Each of us was different – some rich, some poor, some staying nearby and some not so near. We fought each other but had the magnanimity to honour the gang motives. We stuck with each other through thick and thin. And we taught ourselves the art of sharing and of helping each other.
One of the gang members was anxious. In fact, he was absolutely devastated. The examinations would start in a few months and he knew he cannot get through. English always terrorized him. He somehow managed to pass the rest of the subjects. English was the only one subject between being called uneducated and ‘SSLC pass’. This would be his final attempt – he knew he cannot pass and he wanted to pass it desperately so that he can muster some job or the other. His father cannot support him any longer because of family circumstances. He was keen to ensure that he did not add to the family burden but wanted to reduce it by being productive.
The gang got into collective thinking. All of us knew that he can never manage to pass if all of us made him study twenty four hours a day till the exams start.
I offered a dangerous proposition. I said, “I can write for you provided you get my photo in your hall ticket”.
Another friend offered his unique services. He said, “I can get my father to allot an exam centre far away from our place. It means that I can also manage to get the wrong photo to the right hall ticket”.
And so our friend is immediately overjoyed with the simple solution. Everybody go home happy that day. The samaritan’s father reluctantly agreed to do the gang’s beckoning.
And so one day the gang turns up at my house.
One said, “Okay, its time to start”.
I said, “For what?”.
He said, “Have you forgotten? You promised to write for me and tomorrow is the exam day”.
My head reeled. I had not studied and the centre was 200 km away. There was no time to lose. So we took a bike and all of us travelled the entire distance and reached the exam centre the next day morning.
I gingerly entered the examination hall. They found nothing out of ordinary. But exam supervisors sure were curious because I started writing and never stopped. Fast, furious and trying to cram as much as possible. The exam was over in half the time and I came out with my fingers crossed but totally relieved. More so was my gang.
The results were out. He scored 63% in English – the highest of all the exams. He was elated and so was I.
After 25 years, he remains a good friend. He still drives the auto that he started after becoming a qualified ‘SSLC Pass’.
(As narrated by my friend, Jayant Pande – 30th of March, 2010)
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