It were the days when examinations were real tests of one’s worth. The college teacher’s job was no mean thing. My father being dead, I, as the only child of my parents, felt the appointment as lecturer a god-send. It was on probation (= awaiting approval) for one year. The experience that I narrate literally put me on the rack (= tortured me). It forced me into an act that I had promised to shun as a solemn pledge at the start of my career.
It was a private college past its teething time (= initial stage). Let alone the university examinations, even its college examinations could serve as models for modern days.
My experience relates to the Inter Arts university examination. Women education being still a far cry (= a remote thing) in this part, the number of girl examinees was inconsiderable. As such, instead of being evenly distributed among the boys in all the rooms, they were seated in one room among the boys. As a new entrant and full of youthful ideals I invigilated with an enviable zeal. I was a sworn eliminator of evil; I seized chits of paper, commanded silence on those that whispered, rebuked and threatened. The examinees called me a mini Hitler (I was short, too), my colleagues called my mood a neophyte’s (= a beginner’s) zeal and I paraded the corridors with the proud mien (= appearance) of a great idealist…
The room where the girls appeared technical sense) was the cynosure (= center of attraction) of all eyes for obvious reasons. A news in my circle floated is that some teachers were showing fair favour to the fair sex. They were helped and assisted, and when difficult answers were not readily available, teachers from other rooms even were requisitioned.
The matter pricked my moral propriety oddly. It upbraided (= rebuked) me that the boys should fall a prey to my ideal, while the girls go about scot free. But I had limitations: I was the my youngest, little known and little knowing. I was sure that I would not spare even girls if they dare before me. But I must have a chance, I thought. I had not yet got that room and to appeal for it would be a kind of showiness and bravado not befitting my age and rank.
But, somehow, the day arrived, I was allotted the room as a co-invigilator. I know my temperament and was sure that there shall be no lapses in my behaviour. I had a friend, Barin, who was more knowledgeable about the practicabilities of life. I was a boy of withdrawing disposition (= a tendency to keep off). I used to observe that Barin easily befriended (= made friends) and, at times, it seemed to me that he mixed with people with design (-purposely). For there were some teachers whom I avoided as being not worthy of my taste and temperament. But Barin was well home (= comfortable) in their company.
My room-in-charge – a senior teacher – I observed, had been showing impatience throughout. I later learnt that the daughter of his intimate colleague was also an examinee. It is a trait in my character that habitually I lack circumspection (= an awareness of the realities of a situation) in life. As such I little felt the implications that lay in my over-serious actions. I seemed to have drunk the wine of seriousness and values. It was English Paper and the questions of grammar and translation stuck in the throats of the girls.
In the last hour of the exam things came to a head. Do or die was the resolve. My super tried to mollify (= make soft) my rigidity by praising me out of context. Perhaps he took me for a dupe (= easily to be cheated) or a fool, or perhaps he wished to give the examinees some respite from my watchdog activities. But the watchdog in me was able to seize some chits from two girls. I seized their papers.
I could feel that people were trying to coax me so that I returned their papers. But my deep moral sense warned me that it would be unfair in respect of what I did with the others. My act was being interpreted as reckless, but I could not feel how, because I was fair and square in conduct I knew. my I saw Barin appear. He had no duty that day. Naturally his meaningful appearance meant something for me. What he told me, in short, implied that I might be sacked if I stuck to t my stand. He was the daughter of the Secretary of the Selection Board and his group was dominant in the college power-politics.
Barin’s advice struck root in me. I inwardly confided in his wisdom in these matters. The insight that he showed in his analysis of the alignment among teachers always helped me. Naturally, the prospect of losing the job let loose cross-currents of dire (= urgent) consequences which I might have to face with my helpless widow mother. These upset totally the apple-cart (= proud possession) of my cherished values and I surrendered.
At night Barin expanded the point of view. This private college was run by a dominant and affluent caste and the present Secretary, the son of the chief donor who had died before I joined, is ruthless. The girl was his only daughter. He further told me that he was sent by our Principal who smelt trouble.
The pressure was too much for my ideals to be retained, I felt. I decided to shift elsewhere in good time. But at the moment I had to yield.
