(mis) Adventures Of A Bachelor Boy - Part 4 (Litmus test)

I have had a proclivity towards fine arts since my early childhood days, and hence, it was only natural that I would go in for a degree in Visual Communication after my schooling.It was the summer of 95?, and I was just about feeling a deep sense of relief that most people experience after completing their higher secondary examinations. I set about to fulfil my dreams of getting Viscom degree: by visiting the Government Arts College for an application form to the course.My first visit to the campus left a lasting impression on me. The majestic Roman-style architecture, the wooden support beams and the serene atmosphere of the campus were very impressive. But the staff, like the yawning peon, however, turned to be quite unimpressive.The immensely obese gentleman took a good 15 minutes to issue an application form for the course. Having completed the formalities, and filled the form, he took another 15 minutes to receive it. Within a few days, I had the call-card, giving me the time, date and the venue for the entrance examination. The exam, it said, was to be conducted over a period of three days between 11 a.m. and 5 p.m. I went along with my father and was the first candidate to reach the campus. In an hour, the campus was jam-packed with candidates from various parts of the State. The roll numbers were called out and the candidates were divided into three groups. I was lucky to get into the first group. We were made to sit in a dingy hall that seemed a wee better than a pigsty. The furnishing included drawing boards, stools and 13 puzzled candidates perched precariously on them. A quick survey of my fellow candidates revealed that some were between the age group of 29 and 35. It was also embarrassing for me to realize that I had erroneously assumed one of the ?older? candidates to be an invigilator for the entrance test. On being queried, one of the ?older? candidates said that many, like him, were full-time artists who were appearing for the course only for the degree. My conversation was interrupted when the examiner entered the hall with full scape drawing sheets. To my dismay I found that the desks provided to us were too small for the sheets and I had great difficulty holding both ends straight and attempting simultaneously to sketch on it. An elderly gent, who I had (once again erroneously) assumed to be duty gardener, entered the room. He pulled out a rickety stool and placed it below a 200-watt lamp and perched himself on it after removing his shirt. The examiner then proceeded to point out to the fine specimen on the stool, and asked us to begin a ?live portrait? of the man. It was no mean task for a novice to do a live portrait. But this specimen proved to be more difficult, given the fact that one needed to be very skilful to sketch the contours of the elderly gent, who seemed to display more of bones and skin, than of flesh. While other ?older? candidates began their work immediately, I began mine by stretching out the sheet and alternatively attempting to sketch before the sheet wound up again. My maiden attempt of sketching a ?live portrait? finally came to fruition after nearly two-and-half-hours.This was possible by working in stages: first came the head, then the neck, and finally the trunks and the legs. Having worked on it so hard, it was time to unroll my magnum opus. But to my dismay, I found that the head was slanting at approximately 30 degrees, his trunk was at 45 degrees and the rest of his legs and the stool, stood somewhere in between. Even as I was contemplating my next course of action, in came the peon, we had met a few days ago, with a schedule of the tests for the next two days. On day two would be the pottery test, wherein candidates would be expected to make moulds of earthenware and human faces! On day three (it was worse), candidates would be provided with chisels, hammers and piece of stone. The candidates were expected to carve a flower or an animal from the stone. My experience with hammers was limited to my childhood days, when breaking radio sets and watches, and every electrical item (that I took a liking to) was a favored pastime. I wondered if this degree was a value-add for beginners like me or was merely a piece of paper with little value for seasoned artists like my companions in the hall. The tests were obviously not meant for beginners like me, who required to be trained by professionals, to get into this course. This posed another question: If I was trained, why do I need this course? My train of thoughts was interrupted by the examiner?s announcement that the test would continue after a lunch break. The announcement on the sculpture test had left me in jitters. It was now a question of paramount significance to my life - what was more important my thumb or my career? I made up my mind and did what I have never regretted till date ? I fled from the hall.