My fellow quizzers, who also happened to be juniors at college, gave me a chance to join them in conducting GK quizzes for some of the high school pupils of Mysore. We are half-way through the preliminary testing phase, in which the students are given a written test at their own schools. Whilst the students are trying to fetter out the answers from the mass of data that has been fraught onto their minds at school, tuitions and by the media -- though many have confirmed our suspicion that they are mostly glued to the entertainment channels on the tele -- we made a few discoveries of our own, as we moved from school to school.
What is your name, Sir?
Even as we distributed the questionnaires, each having 25 questions, this was the one question we had to face in almost all the schools -- the appellation 'Sir' has been the only frivolous gain from the donning of formal attire. Although we have --most all the time, and I most of the time -- responded to this question with a smile that underscores our knowledge of the answer, in our attempt to be 'professional', we seem to have thrown politeness and interactivity out of the window by not making the same query of our enquirers.
This is not in the syllabus ...
Another statement that came out of the students, sometimes in a gasp, sometimes in a murmur, and at others as a declaration of an irrefutable truth. Although some of the questions had been drawn from their syllabus to keep them from getting dejected at not knowing vignettes from the newspapers, it was still a preliminary test to pick finalists for a GK competition, and so, there were a few googlies and jaffas. I suddenly realized that I have been watching a lot of Tamil TV when I found myself itching to say 'Your syllabus might have GK, but GK doesn't have a syllabus!'
English is a subject ...and so is Kannada
It's one thing to listen to all those lectures about keeping an open mind and another to truly open the mind and empty it of its stereotypes. The exercise became more futile in my case because the stereotypes were confirmed. In many of the avowedly English medium schools, the English comprehension was medium and even below par. The kids were sharp, though, and often responded correctly once the questions were translated to Kannada, or were broken down into a stream of key words.
The quizzing enthusiasts ...
The quiz was a part of a tridentate talent hunt, and simultaneous contests in drawing and painting, and Bhavageethe rendition were also being held. Yet, the turnout for the quiz was pleasing. Well, it was, at least till we stumbled upon its cause: not all the students backed themselves to be good with the brush in hand, and despite the gall that reality shows might have inspired, most of them were not carried away by the fantasy of being capable of mystical singing. Taking part in one of the three events was a compulsion, to boot, and we had a sizeable quizzing community in each school, even after the artists and singers had flounced off.
The exception, though, was a school where the students, packed in place like the fruits and vegetables in the stalls of the Devaraja Market, displayed the symptoms of acquired philistinism by choosing to only partake in the cerebral endeavor that was the quiz.
Copying is an art ...
Copying, as opprobrious a practice as it might be, requires skill and presence of mind. Since we were to conduct the preliminary test in the respective classes, and in the absence of an exam-like atmosphere in which the students would be sat only at either end of each bench, we tried to avert impropriety by ensuring the neighbours had different sets of questions of nearly identical difficulty. We had our doubts of how the scheme would work, but only till we began the evaluation.
Q.X: On what date, every year, do we celebrate India's becoming a republic?
Ans : Sir Mirza Ismail.
Q.Y: Who is credited for the construction of the KRS dam?
Ans : 1971.
Although the answers flummoxed us initially, we soon discovered a pattern. In one of the other sets, the corresponding questions were:
Q.X: Which Dewan of Mysore was responsible for laying out the Brindavan Gardens?
Q.Y: When did Bangladesh gain freedom from Pakistan?
So, the ploy was surely working. The mechanical mode of writing down the answers of their neighbours by paying attention only to the order, without straining the neck muscles enough to try and catch a glimpse of the question, managed only to give us a few comical moments during the evaluation.
PS: This post's been in the freezer for a couple of weeks, and thus, may contain stale info.
What is your name, Sir?
Even as we distributed the questionnaires, each having 25 questions, this was the one question we had to face in almost all the schools -- the appellation 'Sir' has been the only frivolous gain from the donning of formal attire. Although we have --most all the time, and I most of the time -- responded to this question with a smile that underscores our knowledge of the answer, in our attempt to be 'professional', we seem to have thrown politeness and interactivity out of the window by not making the same query of our enquirers.
This is not in the syllabus ...
Another statement that came out of the students, sometimes in a gasp, sometimes in a murmur, and at others as a declaration of an irrefutable truth. Although some of the questions had been drawn from their syllabus to keep them from getting dejected at not knowing vignettes from the newspapers, it was still a preliminary test to pick finalists for a GK competition, and so, there were a few googlies and jaffas. I suddenly realized that I have been watching a lot of Tamil TV when I found myself itching to say 'Your syllabus might have GK, but GK doesn't have a syllabus!'
English is a subject ...and so is Kannada
It's one thing to listen to all those lectures about keeping an open mind and another to truly open the mind and empty it of its stereotypes. The exercise became more futile in my case because the stereotypes were confirmed. In many of the avowedly English medium schools, the English comprehension was medium and even below par. The kids were sharp, though, and often responded correctly once the questions were translated to Kannada, or were broken down into a stream of key words.
The quizzing enthusiasts ...
The quiz was a part of a tridentate talent hunt, and simultaneous contests in drawing and painting, and Bhavageethe rendition were also being held. Yet, the turnout for the quiz was pleasing. Well, it was, at least till we stumbled upon its cause: not all the students backed themselves to be good with the brush in hand, and despite the gall that reality shows might have inspired, most of them were not carried away by the fantasy of being capable of mystical singing. Taking part in one of the three events was a compulsion, to boot, and we had a sizeable quizzing community in each school, even after the artists and singers had flounced off.
The exception, though, was a school where the students, packed in place like the fruits and vegetables in the stalls of the Devaraja Market, displayed the symptoms of acquired philistinism by choosing to only partake in the cerebral endeavor that was the quiz.
Copying is an art ...
Copying, as opprobrious a practice as it might be, requires skill and presence of mind. Since we were to conduct the preliminary test in the respective classes, and in the absence of an exam-like atmosphere in which the students would be sat only at either end of each bench, we tried to avert impropriety by ensuring the neighbours had different sets of questions of nearly identical difficulty. We had our doubts of how the scheme would work, but only till we began the evaluation.
Q.X: On what date, every year, do we celebrate India's becoming a republic?
Ans : Sir Mirza Ismail.
Q.Y: Who is credited for the construction of the KRS dam?
Ans : 1971.
Although the answers flummoxed us initially, we soon discovered a pattern. In one of the other sets, the corresponding questions were:
Q.X: Which Dewan of Mysore was responsible for laying out the Brindavan Gardens?
Q.Y: When did Bangladesh gain freedom from Pakistan?
So, the ploy was surely working. The mechanical mode of writing down the answers of their neighbours by paying attention only to the order, without straining the neck muscles enough to try and catch a glimpse of the question, managed only to give us a few comical moments during the evaluation.
PS: This post's been in the freezer for a couple of weeks, and thus, may contain stale info.
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