Today the first question I was asked in my viva for art and drama practical was how I was coping with b Ed. 'Not so bad,' I replied, 'although I have lost some weight ,' was my reply. The next question was directed especially at my gender. While looking at my art work and artifacts, Sir asked if I did it myself. 'I took help,' I confessed. To this Sir mentioned that if I knew how to manage help, I could do just well in B Ed.' - a statement that could have multiple meanings.
Mine is the first batch to study B Ed as a two year course (DU excluded where the course was 2 years even before) , and common sense would suggest that double the time period, half the workload. But NO! in B ed, this theory does not imply. Two semesters have gone by, and I have realised that B Ed is like signing a Yash Raj Films contract: you are bound to work only for them, and have no life outside of it.
If B Ed was a feast, there would have been assignments in appetisers, main course and dessert. No matter where we go, what we do, we have to write a report on it. 6 pages. 8 pages, 10 pages. And they count both sides of a sheet as one page. What kind of logic is that? We are so scared when they announce that we have a field trip or someone is coming for a guest lecture because the event will go on only for an hour or so but we would have to write it in 5 pages, (both sides.)
And there is one thing called 'conclusion' which we have to write after every report, every assignment, every answer, I was so absorbed by this that I started writing conclusion even for my fb status.
Entry into a B Ed classroom for a guy is like the official entry to the first coach of Delhi metro. The penalty is not 200 bucks but even more. It can cost you your dignity. Tie and die, block printing, soft toy, designing stuff with paper flowers and butterflies was something we ended up doing for our art and drama practical. And the events in our college included rakhi making competition on rakshabandhan, mehandi competition on karwa chauth , but there was no rawan making or cracker making on Dushera and Diwali, something the guys would have enjoyed. I was carrying RDX in my bag the whole month in expectation. We would have had such a blast.
Our boys gang end up entertaining ourselves by playing short pitch cricket or football or 'maaram pitti' with the rubber ball. We need something to protect our sexual orientation after all.
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