AIPMT – The Entrance Exam Extravaganza

May 4^th marked an important (read : career deciding, life ruining etc etc) day for medical aspirants (me too!) nationwide. While being Star Wars day, it also played host to the All India Pre-Medical Test, an exam which enables one to get into premier (or so they say) Govt. and private medical institutions (or institutes) across the country.  

It was quite the festival for smart people; I was sharing my exam centre with around five to six THOUSAND students, most fresh out of school and raring to go forth to decide their lives. No amount of man power is enough to successfully discipline so many young adults, and quite surely, mayhem ensued even prior to our entry into the exam hall. The girls outnumbered the guys three to one; I really don’t see where the problem with the sex ratio is.  

What is a day in India without a strike or a dharna called? Incomplete. But not the 4^th of May. Mid-way through our exam, our ears were met with the sounds of loud hollering and general chaos. The purpose of the demonstration is something only Morgan Freeman knows, but the vociferous chanting soon fizzled out and died, akin to the rains in B’lore, leaving us to write our exams in relative peace.

An entrance exam in India is a family affair, extending to joint families even, with grandpas tottering around with walking sticks a fairly uncommon sight. Some turned it into a family outing, with my uncle alleging that he definitely saw some picnic mats and elaborate luncheons. Groceries and local eateries, in and around the centre, probably had the best business day of the year. The auto-drivers had a field day as well, charging outrageous amounts to anxious parents pleading with the gods of the traffic jams and such for safe passage.

An entrance exam affords one an opportunity to observe at close quarters the various kinds of students that comprise your competition and your peer group through college life.  The following forms a comprehensive list as to the type of students I found at the AIPMT, and which I believe applies to most other exams :

       

      1. The Freaks and the Geeks aka Sherlock and the Rainman : 

      The former lot are like Sherlock, freaks of nature capable of solving most problems with no apparent effort,    their brain cells making impossible connections to arrive at the answer. The latter like the Rainman, have prodigious memories and/or are hard workers, committing vast amounts of information to their cranial data banks. These students are the ones, who walk in and out the exam hall, with smiles on their faces, knowing fully well that it’s their names that are going to be in the newspaper.

          2. The Starks of Entrancehell :

This is where the junta (me too!) resides. The students with above-average intellect and moderate preparation who fervently hope that what they haven’t studied won’t be tested. They can be found tucked away in quiet places, notes in hands, feverishly invoking the old gods and the new. While some of the Starks might survive, most of them will perish at the Red Wedding.

       3.The Rahul Gandhis :

Why are they writing the entrance exams? Because Mummy(or Daddy) said so. These are students who want to do journalism or arts, but whose parents want them to do a basic degree first. They are characterized by their sullen expressions, and a singular response to most questions, which may or may not be ‘Women Empowerment’.

      4. The John Watsons :

These students have already been accepted into universities abroad or at home, but are writing the exams because their friends are doing it. Moderately intelligent and loyal to a fault, they’ll be the ones with confused expressions on their faces, as they watch their friends (who may be Sherlocks) discuss theories they’ve never heard of.

All in all, writing an entrance exam in India is an unforgettable experience, one that you’ll cherish or curse to doom’s day. It’s also the place to be, if you’re looking to meet smart young adults your own age (wink wink). I’d better get back to studying (read : watching  TV shows) for my next entrance now , lest I turn into the unfortunate Rob Stark. I wish my fellow aspirants the very best of luck, and pray that they score less than I do. Just kidding. Maybe.