Then, I shake my head and console myself—should I feel miserable about this?

The painful moment when I’m checking the answer sheets and get traumatised seeing a competent student turn in a crappy paper with unsolved questions and incomplete answers. My throbbing head tries to reason—was he under the weather that day? Or was he completely bored? Was he going through personal problems? Or did he just not care?

Then, I shake my head in despair and comfort myself—should I bear responsibility for his action?

The annoying moment when I’m checking answers sheets and I see the same mistake by the same student. Despite having discussed the issue in class at least ten times, she makes the same error once again. Maybe it is on purpose. Maybe the student simply loves making me furious and frustrated. Maybe not. Maybe the student couldn’t get it through her head at all.

Then, I shake my head in disbelief and calm myself—should I droop down with the blame on my head?

The agonising moment when I’m checking answers sheets and I have to judge the students based on a three-hour written examination. There are some internal assessments (attendance, assignment, tests, portfolio) but the major assessment is always based on the final examination. Maybe the system is a joke. Maybe it only works for those students who can ‘memorise’ everything. 

Then, I shake my head in anguish and soothe myself—should I raise my feeble fist against the system?

The indecisive moment when I’m checking the answers sheets and am crushed by the dilemma: the student is just short of five marks to pass, should I give him/her the ‘grace’ mark? I re-check the paper but I hit a deadlock. My hand freezes. I can’t decide. Did my marking instinct go wrong? And, sometimes instincts can go wrong.

Then, I shake my head in defeat and sympathise with myself—should I just quit?

I feel cornered by this uneasy pain and helplessness. I have to comply with the curriculum. I know I hate it but I have to play along with our testing and evaluation system. The student must score 40 percent or above. The universities, ‘experts’ and ‘commissions’ have decided this. 

Yet, for some inexplicable reasons, I want to remain hopeful. This strange ‘hope’ is what makes my eyes glide from one word to another, from one line to another and from one answer sheet to another. And I desperately await that awesome moment when the student completely catches me off guard and makes my day. 

Surely, someday, everything will get better. Everything has to get better.