OH ME! OH MY MATHS!
At the age of ten, Mid-term exams are nothing sort of a trial when expectations from your parents are more than that of your teachers'. You walk on eggshells when your father tests you during revisions. A simple calculation fails you when you see his stern, disapproving look. Your mind goes blank and you stare daftly, all the while hoping for a miracle, for the right answer to thaw through your brain-freeze.
'Daydreamer', you're nicknamed just 'cause you go into a deep thought without blinking. That gives you a moony look and you shutdown totally when people fire away questions over your head. So, a simple question of 'How would you solve this problem if 20 apples are to be given away to 100 children equally' garners answers which are totally out of this world, and the whacks that follow brings you back to earth!
The next day is the Big Day! You're a nervous wreck! The chatter in your head doesn't stop. At the assembly hall, you face your headmistress on the stage above, her gaze piercing everyone by turns.
With a voice which makes your blood run cold, she booms, "I don't want to see your *rough* working on the *fair* pages. The state that you're already in, gives you selective deafness and you misinterpret that *working shouldn't be done on the pages*.
You're confused. You overwork your already overcooked brain, go haywire, do mental sums with the multiplication and division and mess up the entire paper!
On the day the answer sheets are handed out, your form teacher pulls you up and asks you, "Where are your workings, blessed child?" You're confused, you're angry! You go home… to more thwacks! Math has become your bete-noire and your steadfast nemesis that day on.
Pic Courtesy:Pixabay
©️ Sangeetha Kamath
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