Chronicles of a Deed Never-told

consider it of paramount importance to blog the following anecdote, given the following, ahem, circumstances.

i thought i'd take this story to the academic grave with me, but oh well!


in bachelors we had an administrative law course, which in essence was a primordial course regarding civilian law. one of those 'extra goodness' courses you get in the favorable consequence of being a social sciences student. our professor was a big-tummied, frumpy-haired lawyer who would rant off in lawyer-diction of penal code XYZ and what justice ziauddin boringpants had to say on the topic of habeas corpus, etc. fact was, most of the class - being normal, rational adults - would be bored with the big fat law terms and headachey clauses and the rattle about the technicalities of the chief justice issue (which was hot those days, not the dried out aubergine it is now). a small portion of us were, however, fascinated with the administrative tribunals, types of writs, legal processes - we would engage passionately in debates over what we considered wrong with the legal system, the hudood ordinance, the reality of how jirgas form an important service to society, etc. i would especially be vocal, punjabi blood flowing, feminist spirit evoked. i think he found me an amusing little creature - loud, scribbler, front-rower, full attention yet humoring a bored classmate on the next seat. he would throw out questions and catch them back in his palm. he was open, huge in conversation, engaging, encouraging - one of the few courses that won everyone by the end.

and here comes the interesting part. come the final, and we all arrived the next day, bleary, overcome with the huge amount of syllabus. when the paper slipped through our hands, the objective portion shook me in my seat. i made the mistake of not paying attention for a few extra handouts, and the whole objective portion ended up making it's way from there. i actually ended up leaving huge blanks, disappointed, headed on to the subjective portion, determined to finish it off to save some grace for the Haque name.

after the paper, post-exam analysis rants filling the room, i was worried about the general chatter of 'wow those objectives sure were easy!' 'yeah man, mine went great!' - i sulked and accepted by fate of a B-grade. but thoroughly disappointed i had screwed up one of the few courses i had actually enjoyed that semester.



fast-forward to three weeks, and the checked papers slipped through our hands. much to my surprise, i bagged good marks in the objectives. double-tracking the "name" portion and confused for a few minutes, i studied the paper hard...

.. and realized that someone else's hand had filled in the blanks i had left... and unable to believe it.. it was actually the professor's hand! it was ACTUALLY the professors hand! yes, he had actually solved some of my paper, in blue ink, in poorly mimicked handwriting!

LOL, my professor totally helped me cheat :)



the result was that my marks did not improve drastically, but were suspiciously enough to glide my final GPA to a 4.0. (one of the three kids out of eighty who did get a 4.0 in that course.)

whether i deserved the 4.0 or not, he definitely thought so! the act remained unacknowledged, a knowing look shared, and admiration deep in my heart, i left the room.



(And it was only two months after, when the nov 3 emergency was declared, the utility of the course hit me spot on when i immediately recognized why the it was placed, and could rail off to a best friend the resulting 20 fundamental rights that were now denied to us.)



so friends, reespeck the lawyers. they're alright.