MIDWAY : Bunking as my hobby
We don’t need a downpour to spoil the already cold day, I told myself one chilly morning. I dreaded the thought of getting out of my warm bed. However, I got up lest I missed a lecture. “But isn’t this against my wish?” I though again, and without much ado, hopped back to my cosy bed. Lectures can wait! Who will bother answering the teacher how high or far a stone would reach if thrown from the ground at a certain initial velocity? Who cares about its trajectory? This was but another chapter in my history of bunking classes.
School was ultimate escape to happiness — a real utopia on earth. The verandah of the mammoth building, elfin canteen and yummy samosas made the cafeteria a favourite hangout destination. I still sorely miss the endless gossip with friends. And the sweet memories! I miss the old school days a lot. Save the days when we were ill, all these did not distract us a bit from attending the classes. Six long hours whizzed past in a jiffy. But these days, however, kids spend most of the time hanging around the canteen or on the roads pelting stones. I feel that I am not solely liable for all the bunking, nor is the chilly weather responsible for it. The onus for this mischief lies with the insipid lectures. I also partially back my buddies’ claim that it was the lectures that prompted bunking. Some of the indomitable guys in the group even claimed bunking as an inherent right. Indeed, gone are the “gurukul” days when students used to lap up whatever a teacher vomited. Now, interactive classes need to be blended with modern technology.
It is an established fact that one cannot devote more than 20 minutes with snap attention at a stretch. Hence, majority of students take lengthy lectures with a pinch of salt. Perhaps this explains why I still dread lectures. Owing to high bunking rate, some colleges have begun evaluation systems based on class performance. But I disagree in the sense that better study environment and new methods of teaching would solve the problem. In my college, pupils whose attendance falls below the 80 per cent mark normally are flunked at internal evaluation. Not surprisingly I have bamboozled my teachers for long. Perhaps there is logic in my earning the nick name “bunking icon” in campus. I must be clear on this: it is a label that I am not proud of. I must sanctimoniously admit that I did not squander my time on unproductive classes. No regrets, I must say. Those prompted to tread my path be warned: I am not encouraging you.