400

Every 100 ranks that went by, I got reminded of the India Pakistan World T20 final when Misbah got disturbingly close to chasing the Indian total. At that time, every Harbhajan ball that was clobbered out of the park by Misbah left me with a awefully distressing feeling of helplessness. I could do nothing. It was like a mathematical programme that was in a terminal decline. There was no stopping. From 900, I reached 600. No respite. Hope still flickered. The dum aloo debate stopped. The mood was placid. The room was heavily curtained and thus was dark for an extremely humid and hot afternoon. The room was below ambient temperature as the air conditioner worked silently. Womenfolk, tired of the discussion were getting ready for a siesta. And I saw myself all alone in this mad bad world with just 400 more numbers to go. Chills down my spine and I start traveling upwards.

As soon as I reached 400 and my name no where in sight, I realized it was high time I started the fire fighting exercise. I had to become mentally strong. I had to brace for impact. I had to make sure I retain my composure on the arrival of the bad news. I planned for failure. I was searching for a parachute. What had I to do in case I crash landed. First, Chronicle and Times magazines of the last one year. Second, DD Basu and Ravindran sir notes for Polity. Third, Goh Cheng Leong, Savindra Singh, K siddhartha and Shabbir sir notes for geography. Fourth, Misra puri and Dutt and Sundaram for Economy. I didn't have the wherewithal to think about the other subjects. I stopped. But I knew I would be alive to think about another attempt. Yes, if I failed, I knew I wouldn't die.