I'm Indian. That means I'm stuck in the 1960s.

I sent this particular letter to a few newspaper editors in Chennai. One of them asked me to "start speaking like a 22-year old".

*

Dear Mr. Editor,

I am now a holder of an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering from an esteemed institute in India. I joined it in 2006 after mounting pressure at home; there are many things that contribute to this particular phenomenon — that of persisting in believing that engineering is the ONLY way to go — but a very significant one is that of the obsession with scores.

I'm no longer a student, and whatsoever I say now is not as a result of harassment at home. I say it because it is strange, severely unproductive (if not counter-productive) and, more importantly, it is reinforced year after year by the same establishment that also professes any capacity to put an end to it: the information broadcasting industry.

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone at this point; news is news. However, objectively speaking, I don't see any valid reason for high-scoring students in the state-instituted class XII examinations to merit any prominent mention right on (any of) the first few pages of a newspaper that sells 5+ lakh copies each day. This sort of coverage may have been justified if the examination in question was the UPSC entrance test, which is perhaps more consequential by orders of magnitude.

The Kothari Commission report submitted to the Indian government in 1966 established that India's needs were better met by engineering or medical science degree holders rather than those who had studied the liberal arts and/or the social sciences. However, times have changed significantly. In fact, India has been acknowledged for its scientific output repeatedly in international academic and political circles alike. What more do we want? Is it not quite palpably perceived that we lack the understanding required to bridge the gap between a country struggling under ancestral burdens and a country the greatest resource of which is its burgeoning numbers of youngsters? Is that not a need better met by studying the social sciences?

Why is it not sufficient to only declare the announcement of the results? Why does it seem pertinent to photograph each of the many toppers? Through this process of aggrandizement, scoring high becomes an incentive. I concede the threat presented by over six lakh competitors in each of the examinations, but that fact alone does not validate the celebration of these high-scorers. They have my heartiest of regards, but I think you will agree when I say that their accomplishments are monumentally insignificant when compared to so much as the discovery of an indigenous method to manufacture high-efficiency batteries — something that any engineering graduate will put his mind to if he or she knows any celebration is in the offing.

There is one last question I wish to ask: if there is any celebration at all, why must it stop with the class XII exams? It is popular opinion, and not quite wrong still, that given the voluminous syllabi, most of the students have not learnt anything as much as they have managed to remember it till the D-day. If there is to be any celebration, why not celebrate those exams that have an assuredly formidable practical component? Why not celebrate those achievements the incentivization of which promises tractable good for the nation?

I'm Indian. That means I'm stuck in the 1960s.

I sent this particular letter to a few newspaper editors in Chennai. One of them asked me to "start speaking like a 22-year old".

*

Dear Mr. Editor,

I am now a holder of an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering from an esteemed institute in India. I joined it in 2006 after mounting pressure at home; there are many things that contribute to this particular phenomenon — that of persisting in believing that engineering is the ONLY way to go — but a very significant one is that of the obsession with scores.

I'm no longer a student, and whatsoever I say now is not as a result of harassment at home. I say it because it is strange, severely unproductive (if not counter-productive) and, more importantly, it is reinforced year after year by the same establishment that also professes any capacity to put an end to it: the information broadcasting industry.

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone at this point; news is news. However, objectively speaking, I don't see any valid reason for high-scoring students in the state-instituted class XII examinations to merit any prominent mention right on (any of) the first few pages of a newspaper that sells 5+ lakh copies each day. This sort of coverage may have been justified if the examination in question was the UPSC entrance test, which is perhaps more consequential by orders of magnitude.

The Kothari Commission report submitted to the Indian government in 1966 established that India's needs were better met by engineering or medical science degree holders rather than those who had studied the liberal arts and/or the social sciences. However, times have changed significantly. In fact, India has been acknowledged for its scientific output repeatedly in international academic and political circles alike. What more do we want? Is it not quite palpably perceived that we lack the understanding required to bridge the gap between a country struggling under ancestral burdens and a country the greatest resource of which is its burgeoning numbers of youngsters? Is that not a need better met by studying the social sciences?

Why is it not sufficient to only declare the announcement of the results? Why does it seem pertinent to photograph each of the many toppers? Through this process of aggrandizement, scoring high becomes an incentive. I concede the threat presented by over six lakh competitors in each of the examinations, but that fact alone does not validate the celebration of these high-scorers. They have my heartiest of regards, but I think you will agree when I say that their accomplishments are monumentally insignificant when compared to so much as the discovery of an indigenous method to manufacture high-efficiency batteries — something that any engineering graduate will put his mind to if he or she knows any celebration is in the offing.

There is one last question I wish to ask: if there is any celebration at all, why must it stop with the class XII exams? It is popular opinion, and not quite wrong still, that given the voluminous syllabi, most of the students have not learnt anything as much as they have managed to remember it till the D-day. If there is to be any celebration, why not celebrate those exams that have an assuredly formidable practical component? Why not celebrate those achievements the incentivization of which promises tractable good for the nation?

I'm Indian. That means I'm stuck in the 1960s.

I sent this particular letter to a few newspaper editors in Chennai. One of them asked me to "start speaking like a 22-year old".

*

Dear Mr. Editor,

I am now a holder of an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering from an esteemed institute in India. I joined it in 2006 after mounting pressure at home; there are many things that contribute to this particular phenomenon — that of persisting in believing that engineering is the ONLY way to go — but a very significant one is that of the obsession with scores.

I'm no longer a student, and whatsoever I say now is not as a result of harassment at home. I say it because it is strange, severely unproductive (if not counter-productive) and, more importantly, it is reinforced year after year by the same establishment that also professes any capacity to put an end to it: the information broadcasting industry.

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone at this point; news is news. However, objectively speaking, I don't see any valid reason for high-scoring students in the state-instituted class XII examinations to merit any prominent mention right on (any of) the first few pages of a newspaper that sells 5+ lakh copies each day. This sort of coverage may have been justified if the examination in question was the UPSC entrance test, which is perhaps more consequential by orders of magnitude.

The Kothari Commission report submitted to the Indian government in 1966 established that India's needs were better met by engineering or medical science degree holders rather than those who had studied the liberal arts and/or the social sciences. However, times have changed significantly. In fact, India has been acknowledged for its scientific output repeatedly in international academic and political circles alike. What more do we want? Is it not quite palpably perceived that we lack the understanding required to bridge the gap between a country struggling under ancestral burdens and a country the greatest resource of which is its burgeoning numbers of youngsters? Is that not a need better met by studying the social sciences?

Why is it not sufficient to only declare the announcement of the results? Why does it seem pertinent to photograph each of the many toppers? Through this process of aggrandizement, scoring high becomes an incentive. I concede the threat presented by over six lakh competitors in each of the examinations, but that fact alone does not validate the celebration of these high-scorers. They have my heartiest of regards, but I think you will agree when I say that their accomplishments are monumentally insignificant when compared to so much as the discovery of an indigenous method to manufacture high-efficiency batteries — something that any engineering graduate will put his mind to if he or she knows any celebration is in the offing.

There is one last question I wish to ask: if there is any celebration at all, why must it stop with the class XII exams? It is popular opinion, and not quite wrong still, that given the voluminous syllabi, most of the students have not learnt anything as much as they have managed to remember it till the D-day. If there is to be any celebration, why not celebrate those exams that have an assuredly formidable practical component? Why not celebrate those achievements the incentivization of which promises tractable good for the nation?

Persistence, That Fool

The imprints of little feet in a felicitous field of wheat
Know the weight on afternoon’s shoulders of toil’s burning heat

Fingers bruised and temples wrinkled from frowning
Till the reeds are low and the stalks are down

The master’s truck is waiting at that end with the ploughs
While a crowned father lies drunk in a faraway alehouse

That is the design of this precarious wold seen from distant fences
That have wept not for a callow limp, born now, dead then

It is persistence, that fool, that grants clemency
For such a small price as the surety of faith

Insofar as the loss of all doubt is guaranteed and the alliance
To piety and the fealty to grace is  native trait

Even as age lends maturity and borrows heavily
From innocence, it has only persisted in its duty

That ensures that the leaves of spring will wither without halt
And tomorrow the cold winds of winter will blow surely

A ripple on which rides the kingdom’s earth knows the pull
Of its mortal end, surrenders, and is pardoned as beautiful

Little droplets of immortal purity trickle with rancor
Into the ocean of solitude, in some City with ripening fervor

As schemers and conspirators, thieves and sloughs
As the wings of change and old broken boughs

The farm is readied and seeds made to rest in wombs pure
That endure, for money does not rest, money resists for sure

It is persistence, that fool, that lures hunters to their prey
Just as the prey to its escape, a calamitous charlatan of chance

Waylaying men already broken from the path of men
Spurred unto gold, woman, drink, nay, every mirthful dance

This is reward and reward not at all lest it remains idle
In his keeping and labors ceaselessly in your stone halls

For he who knows not what he awards must not award at all
He who bestows the prize must neither heed the receiver’s call