They talk of the ponderous subjects that drag on'
The hours which extend, like the tail of Hanuman;
They talk of the chores and the grind which will be undergone,
Day after each static day, of the lights that will be left on;
'With all that goes in, what will come out?' they ask.
Unto those fate-sealing questions, they frame their task.
'Will my answers, they be right or quite right?' they wonder,
'Will they be altogether wrong, or will it tenderly miss the point?'
'Will it be short of facts, or bereft of thoughts?'
'Will it be boring, will it be wise, or will it be just humorously foolish?'
'Will the evaluator marvel at it, or will he make a joke of it?'
'Will the gods assembled at Mt. Olympus' banquet,
Dismissively laugh and chide the vanity of it?'
'And the final roll list this time', they ponder,
'It will perhaps reward wit and prudence,
Or it might all be pre-planned providence',
Is celebration in store or name-calling?
Will someone be flying while another is falling?
Heated talks to choose one of the three-letter acronyms,
Are they formative phrases for would-be teraphims?
How will it be, as in a long serpentine line we wait,
How will it be, when the line is neither crooked nor straight?
How will it be, will the deserved get their desired dinner?
How will it be, will it end up all good for the winner?
I have been lodging with people who are preparing seriously for the Indian Civil Services for almost a month now. The culture is mokona-modoki (similar but different) to other such cultures in other such circles. The above thoughts are some which I caught roaming around in the group. They find expression in rooms, in mess halls and in coffee tables. The questions keep coming back and the responses of people and their way of dealing with them form everyday episodes in the Civil Service Nagar.
