March 11, 2013



Points: Paper setters are my creators – Final shape was given in the press – Secrecy was maintained – My presence in the examination Hall – Remained an unwelcome gust – Could not regain former glory – I was sold to a hawker.

I owe my existence to paper- setters who gave me the present form. I was, then, sent to the Controller of Examinations of the Board of Higher Secondary Education, Karachi in a sealed cover. I remained in his custody for many days.

On the day of examination I was taken to the Printing Press. Here I was handed over to the typist for being transformed into a polished form. Within an hour my form was totally changed though my soul remained the same. Then it was put in a cyclostyle machine and thousands of copies came out in spur of a moment. I finally was carefully packed in number of bundles. During the whole process there was an iron wall of secrecy around me. Many persons tried to kidnap me, but in vain. The police officers guarded the place.

At eight thirty I was taken along with others to the examination hall in a van. How pleasant was the ride! Then we were distributed among the examinees. I felt that most of them were terror-strike at our sight. The candidate who got me was a nervous boy, for, his hands trembled much and his nervous eyes stared at me. I perhaps appeared to him like a mighty demon about to throw him into the dark valley of despair. He gazed and gazed at me till his mind was settled. As he went on writing answers, he made different signs on my body and deformed my features. All this time he was nervous no doubt, but at the end I was no better than a scrap of paper. Before the start of the examination, I would have fetched a thousand rupees as my price in an illegal way, but after the examination I was not worth a

The candidate then put me into his pocket and went home. At night he showed me to his elders, who discussed with him the answers. After that I remained like an unwelcome guest in a drawer of his table for a pretty long time. Strangely enough, he did not care a fig for me after the news of his success.

But one of his friends came to my rescue and borrowed my services from him. I may tell you frankly that even at his place I could not regain my former glory. He looked at me with curiosity and respect but not with fear. And after his examination a year later, my value to him was nothing. No wonder then that along with other waste-papers he sold me also to a hawker.

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