If I could summarize my entire school and college life shackled in the chains of our national curriculum in 4 words, it would be- Twelve Years a Slave. Based on an incredible true story of one man’s fight for survival and freedom, it explains both the movie and the aforementioned kind of life. When I look back to my period of slavery, there are only two people I truly hated. The first one was Miss Gaga, who ruined my life and I don’t remember the other person’s name. Wait. This tale I shall tell you today is not hateful, but rather spiritual in nature. The sentiments I felt during the events in the final chapter of this story are similar to what all of Rantages felt when we saw our meme reposted by Radiomunna. If you don’t believe in karma, by the time you finish reading this you probably will.
My story features Miss Gaga, who was one of our English teachers in college. These infinite Miss Gagas are the reasons why our creativity along with the possibility of learning proper English suffers from the same fate as Theon Grejoy. Miss Gaga was a very pretty woman with a rather sexy voice. Her charm covered us like mist. If it were an all-boys college, the mist would hold on for two whole years. Alas, it was an all-girls college and most of us were straight. The mist cleared soon enough and we saw what she truly was.
Chapter 1: The Extent of Her Knowledge of the English Language Starts to Sink In
One sunny morning, a gentle breeze was blowing and most of my classmates were writing their lab reports like crazy. Flawless Miss Gaga was teaching us How to Write Stories, for HSC English tests us our ability to write, yes, stories.
“What do I say about story-writing? You all know it from your kid’s life,” began Miss Gaga. This statement prompted the same thought in all our minds- Miss, we have very sad sex lives, let alone kids. How can we write it from our kids’ life? Then we realized that she meant childhood.
Chapter 2: We Find Out Miss Gaga’s Grammar Is Better Than Ours Could Ever Be
A few days later, she was teaching us the Right Form of Verbs.
Miss Gaga: *writes on blackboard* “Ruma eats mangoes.” Here we use ‘eat’. Now, what the form? WHAT THE FORM of the verb?
Chapter 3: We Discover That It Was Time We Gave Her Some Attention
This was the morning of our English Pretest exam. If Pretests were hard-ons, Tests would be masturbation and HSC exams would be the aftermath that you had no idea how to clean up.
I noticed my friend studying something, and went up to her to impart wisdom. “Why are you studying this? Ei comprehension Miss Gaga poraise. Eita porikkhay dibe na.” The comprehension did appear in the exam. Even though that was no big deal, this incident foreshadowed that my life would be ruined by Miss Gaga.
Final Chapter: Karma Strikes Back
After a long, tiring month of Test exams, I was drained like everyone else. I knew I sucked at maths and other subjects but did fine in Bengali and English. I had read John Green during the vacation before Tests and listened to The Shins. I practically poured it all out on the narrative part. So I thought was fine. Then karma struck.
Guess who checked the English answer scripts. Yes, you guessed right, our lovely teacher with a sexy voice. Miss Gaga handed the answer scripts back to us. I looked at mine- 54. 54 out of 80, I thought. Okay fine, not that bad. Then I looked to my left- 72. I looked to my right- 75. THE EXAM WAS OUT OF 100 ASDFGHJKL?
I didn’t need anyone to tell me the answer. The ground beneath my feet slowly started to shift as I tried to reason that there must have been some mistake in calculation or something. I went up to her.
Me: Miss Gaga, there seems to be a problem. Could you please check it again?
Miss Gaga: OH MY GAWD ETA TOMAR KHATA? TUMI ETTO KHARAP STUDANT HOLEY KOBE THEKE?
I stood there pondering whether I ever did any wrong to humanity. All I wanted was to end world hunger, reduce carbon emission, work for peace and look at Tiger Shroff.
Me: Miss Gaga, number ettu baray dewa jay na?
She turned every page, I looked on as my answers flew by.
Miss Gaga: Ami tomake kothay number dibo bolo? Tomar toh ekta sentence o hoyni.
Miss Gaga: Asholey tomake kothao number bariye dewar jayga nei. Tomar kichui hoyni. Egula ki likhecho? Ami shudhu tomake story te number bariye dite parbo.
She added 0.5 marks to it.
I came back to my seat where everyone was waiting to for me to narrate how Miss Gaga managed to make a complete joke out of my godforsaken life. I revealed that my story in the exam script got me 0.5, so now I had a 54.5 in English. Friend: DUDE YOU WROTE THAT STORY FROM YOUR KID’S LIFE YOU SEE.
All I ever did in my 2 years of college were write lab reports and crack jokes on Miss Gaga. Karma finds everyone and bites them hard, just like Luis Suarez. That realization broke me. I saw no way that I could ever be cheerful again, as if a dementor had kissed me and sucked my soul out. I had my demons and all of them looked like Miss Gaga.
My beloved Social Media Intellectuals will want to say that there is nothing wrong with not being good in a foreign language. Yes, there is nothing wrong in not being proficient in a foreign language but there is something very wrong with an education system that teaches us the same subject for twelve years yet doesn’t manage to teach it to us properly. I was going to blame Miss Gaga for bestowing this terrible fate on me, but then I realized that the Miss Gagas in our lives were victims of the same vicious system that we were.
RIP national curriculum and all its victims.