As final exams kick in, like many people, I always get that chill running through my stomach.
No don’t get me wrong.. I don’t fear the exams.. but well.. I fear that idea that crawls into my mind every time I am in an exam hall..
For some reason, I’ve always envisioned the exam paper as a plate full of food. And my duty is to stuff it all in my stomach in the period specified. If I feel full midway and can’t finish answering the questions the invigilator comes and forces me to stuff in whatever food is left.
“I’m done” I say when I am done with all the food.
I then see the invigilator coming near me. I can hear my heartbeats in my ears. He pushes my head down causing a ‘BAM’ on my desk. He makes me lick the cold, now empty ceramic plate.
Exams make me eat without actually tasting what I’m eating. Exams make me never enjoy my meal. Food is an enjoyable experience, with every bite comes in a spark of sourness or saltiness, or chili, or maybe even a creamy texture that I’ve always adored. With every bite, there should be some surprise or just a little bit of enjoyment.
When the invigilators announce that time is up, I pack my pens and rulers thinking why do I always get them while eating. I hurry out of the hall hoping to breath in some fresh air that would help me in digesting the shit that I just ate.
Other students come out of the exam speaking about questions, whether they got the right answers or not. And all I can think of is that I survived another dreadful experience that I have to take a couple of times every semester. The act of almost killing myself with overeating some bland food and almost suffocating by stuffing all that amount in just 3 hours of hell.
The punishment that I have to take just because society expects me to well, “succeed”.