"You may start your papers now, candidates. Best of luck. I'm a foxy, foxy man oh yeah."

I have deleted that strange, deluded post and am ready to write a new one! I blame lack of sleep for that one.

Anyways, I gave my first EVER EVER O Levels yesterday and three very interesting things came to my attention:
Firstly, my centre for the examinations is DA Public School and let me just say that if I have ever been disparaging of public schools in the lovely city of Karachi, I sincerely apologise (No, I'm not being sarcastic). Hold the ketchup, hold the pickles, I'm eating my words straight up. Because DA is phat! The building is what I speak of, actually. Not only is it kind of HUGE it happens to have a lawn. I know, A LAWN! I have never seen even a patch of grass growing in our school even accidentally, God forbid!
Yet the greenery is not all. This school even has a cafeteria (notice the 'fetaria' after the first two letters instead of a 'nteen'), and a ground twice the size of ours, and air-conditioners and I cannot believe the pathetic existence I have had all this time in this place I call my educational abode. Well, to be honest, I just call it my school. But, you know.
I just cannot believe how stupidly inadequate our school is compared to DA Public School.
No wonder we study and they don't. No wonder.

Secondly, there's the treatment of the candidates in the examination room. They bring in glasses of water for you during the exam! On trays! Honestly! It's like you're in a hotel or like at someone's house oh it is just so relaxing! How nice of the British Council to do so. I guess they're really trying to make amends. Or not, as I'll reveal later...
Also, did you know that you can fully drop your stuff everywhere and the invigilator will come and pick it up for you? Oh yes, he will. I now plan on dropping my pencil case atleast twice at every exam. And do not you dare feel sorry for those invigilators because they are mean! I spent almost every second in both my Second Language Urdu and Islamiyat papers smiling- smiling at my paper, at the window, at the roof, at the invigilators. And not one of them smiled back! In fact, they kind of glared at me!
I guess now my pencil case will feel a little extra suicidal. He he he.

Yes, so they really haven't given up. The British, I mean. Because we have come to the third, very interesting, very scary thing I noticed there.
Did you see? Did you see what the invigilators had to wear? Pardon me, but were we giving our papers at night and was the British Council afraid that we won't be able to see our invigilators properly? Or did the invigilators have to stand in oncoming traffic for their job? Because otherwise there is no reason- no reason at all, believe me- that ANYONE should have to wear those horrid neon-fluorescent-yellow vests made of netting!
Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!! My eyes!!!! HELLO, we're here to give an exam not be blinded by those vests! What is wrong with the British? Why are they still after us? Why must they torture us this way?

But, hmmmm, then again... those invigilators deserve it.