Oooo and I have a SCHOLARSHIP named after me. The Andrew Loh Scholarship for Analytical Chemistry awarded here. ROFLMAO! =)

MPH Essay: The Test (I know, very uncreative title, but what to do)

Andrew Loh Zhu An

Prompt: How is it that a few seconds can seem like an eternity yet years can fly past without our realising it?

He counted fifteen items on his spacious mahogany work desk, and frowned.

The clock chimed eight.

Mr. Tan was late, but he didn’t rush.

8.06 am

“Mr. Cheong.” He had barely entered the class when he headed purposefully towards a specific occupant of the far side of the room, who had chosen that particular seat so he could be as close as possible, to both the windows overlooking the school field, and Jennifer.

“Yes, sir?”

“Your project, please.”

“I, um, don’t have it with me right now.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not done yet. No time, sir.”

“Every single student in your class had time except you,” Mr. Tan said, sternly and deliberately for the words to sink in. “What makes you so special?”

For starters, I went out with Jennifer last night, Kyle thought, and all the boys are jealous.

“Do you have anything to say in your defence, Kyle?”

“Uh, you were late too, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were late to class by six minutes, sir. So, proportionately, a one day extension for a three week project should be, uh, justified.”

The class stifled their snickering somewhat unsuccessfully.

“Nice try, son, but it doesn’t work that way.”

Some sense of justice you have, thought Kyle.

“The truth is, sir, I, uh, didn’t bring my project because it’s a joke I’m playing on you. April Fools!”

His attempt at exploiting the date fell flat with most, but fortunately for Kyle, some classmates guffawed anyway. He should’ve known better than to joke with a Physics teacher who couldn’t find humour in ‘mho’ as the SI unit for conductance.

“I am not amused.”

“Aw, come on, sir, can’t you take a little joke? I mean, what’s the difference between handing my project up today and tomorrow?”

“Your grade, Kyle, that’s what.”

Mr. Tan turned away from Kyle to the whiteboard to begin his lesson, satisfied with the enormity of his threat. Kyle sighed and closed his eyes, as if deep in contemplation.

Kyle didn’t want to flunk Physics. He did all right in all his other subjects, and even excelled in History, but the mother of all science was his Achilles’ heel. The enigmatic equations and complex calculations in his textbook could be mumbo-jumbo and hocus-pocus for all he cared. Stupid subject, he thought.

It was a matter of habit for Kyle to stare at the whiteboard with every ounce of concentration and still see little sense. Today he amused himself by observing how Mr. Tan’s thin, unsmiling lips puckered tensely after each sentence. Kyle also noticed that he swallowed his saliva once at least every thirty seconds, then wrinkled his nose, adjusted his glasses, and brushed off dandruff flakes from his shoulders. Predictable, boring, routine, ugly Mr. Tan. No wonder he’s a Physics teacher, he thought, the teacher reflects the subject.

A refreshing breeze blew his boredom away, albeit temporarily. Almost instinctively Kyle turned and looked out the window onto the school field, where some class was having P.E.. I belong there, Kyle muttered, not in Physics class. It was agonising to be restrained in this de facto prison. Every hour seemed like a decade, perhaps even longer when he saw other people having fun.

But then there was Jennifer.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

RING, BELL, RING!!! Kyle’s restless soul had enough of Mr. Tan’s facial dynamics and the goalless football match. He wanted to scream and break free of such misery, but social constraints dictated otherwise. Therefore he contented himself with fantasising about his date with Jennifer after school. Ignoring the incomprehensible verbiage from Mr. Tan’s moving lips, his eyes gradually made their way to Jennifer.

She looks ravishing as usual, thought Kyle, but rather dejected today. He worshipped every inch of her; her piercing eyes, her teasing smile, her fragrant hair. Her mere presence made Physics almost bearable! If only Jennifer was teaching me, Kyle wished, instead of the old fogey. If only. Then I wouldn’t mind spending years in a classroom, even if it was Physics.

Kyle had never failed Physics per se, but the low Ds he scraped through with were a perennial source of disharmony between him and his parents. He was under intense pressure to get his grades up, or at the very least sustain them, or he would be banned from seeing Jennifer. Jennifer – the love of his life! Kyle was infatuated with her. He could skip meals and computer games and television shows whenever she telephoned, and not even notice! Although his parents liked her personally, they thought her too much of a distraction for Kyle and his lacklustre results.

But mom, he’d complain, I don’t spend enough time with her anyway. Besides, she’s really good in Physics for some odd reason, and concentrates so hard in class that she ignores me.

Jennifer paid no attention to her admirer’s longing gazes. Kyle had no choice but to entertain himself with either Mr. Tan’s antics or the monotonous game. What a humongous waste of my time, he grumbled.

Let it end, please, I beg of you, prayed Kyle. Let my suffering end.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Mr. Tan knew how to control a class. His exact, precise manner instilled Machiavellian fear into his students. They all listened attentively when he lectured, or at least they seemed to. Everyone except Kyle. Only his eyes dare wander when I speak, he discerned, as Kyle winced at yet another wasted football goal opportunity.

Mr. Tan also loved Physics. Since twelve, he relished the thought of enlightening young and malleable minds about the wonderful world of science. O, how he remembered his schooldays, always sitting in front, always getting the right answers, always being praised, always teacher’s pet. How he would passionately devote five unflinching, intensive hours a day studying Physics in the library because the curriculum wasn’t challenging enough. The good old days…

He snapped out of it and was transported forty years into the present, from Tan Chong-Ming the prodigy to Mr. Tan the teacher.

How fast time flew.

Especially during my Physics lessons, he thought. There’s never enough time for my lessons. Every time I get the students energised enough to learn productively, every time I’m having fun cruising along the syllabus, the dastardly bell rings. What’s wrong about schools today is that they schedule too little time for science and too much for useless subjects like Moral Knowledge.

Don’t ring, bell, hoped Mr. Tan. Please, I beg of you, don’t ring.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Riiiiiing!!!

Thank you, God, smiled Kyle.

Blast it, cussed Mr. Tan. I wanted to finish the chapter.

The students poured out of the class as fast as they could. As Kyle was about to catch up with Jennifer, he heard: “Hold on, Kyle. I’ll have a word with you.”

Kyle cursed his luck. Mr. Tan remembered his missing project! “What’s up, sir?”

“I’ll be working on your final grades today. Since you did not bring your project, you shall stay back and complete a test for your marks. You understand?”

“Bu—but I’ve a date after school!”

“You do, indeed. With me. Remember, without this test you will fail your Physics.”

Defeated, Kyle gave in. Bummer, he thought, Jennifer won’t be happy.

1.45 pm

“The time starts now.”

It was an inverse juxtaposition of sorts. Now, Kyle lunged at his test questions at a furious pace, while Mr. Tan lounged in his comfortable recliner with a relaxing anthology of poems.

…explain the Theory of Relativity in layman’s terms, quoting Einstein…

To every thing there is a season,
And a time to every purpose under heaven.

…sitting next to a pretty girl for an hour feels like a minute; placing one’s hand on a hot stove for a minute feels like an hour…

Tick. Tock.

A time to search, and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away.

…the time needed for K to reach the ground when dropped from a height of…

Tick. Tock.

The only audible sounds were the rustling of pen against paper and the hypnotising tick-tock of the wall clock. Sweat dripped profusely from Kyle’s forehead as Mr. Tan’s eyelids gradually grew heavier. Kyle squirmed uncomfortably, jerkily, as he tried to hold it all in.

“May I use the bathroom, please?” Kyle pleaded, still scribbling feverishly, not even looking up.

“Huhh–ah,” muttered Mr. Tan, caught unaware. “You may, but there will be no extra time.”

Kyle swore under his breath for the second time today, admonishing himself for forgetting to take the trip before the test, as was his custom. He stopped himself, although he was thirsty, from adding to the already burgeoning burden in his bladder. He did not have enough time to accomplish both his mental and physiological tasks, and so after a quick value judgment he chose the more important one.

…the large specific heat capacity of water…

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Tick.

…friction will substantially decrease velocity…

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

Tock.

…differentiate Charles’ Law from Boyle’s…

To the last syllable of recorded time,

Tick.

…interference destroys waves…

Out, out, brief candle!

Tock.

…according to Newton’s Principia…

It is a tale

Tick.

…Bernoulli’s principle was…

Told by an idiot,

Tock.

…maximising amplitude…

Full of sound

Tick.

…increasing entropy…

And fury,

Tock.

…the nuclear advent…

Signifying

Tick.

…zero.

Nothing.

Tock.

“Time’s up.”

He hurt everywhere. It was not only his throbbing headache, sore fingers and bursting bladder, but also emotional agony, and a pulsing dread of the immediate future. He was crucified, and he made his slow, painful, encumbered walk down his via dolorosa to the bathroom.

It took quite a while to relieve himself of his most pressing urge. He splashed his face with water, took a hard look at his wretched self in the mirror, and decided that he had to face the cold, hard truth. It was time to be a man. He started the long journey back.

A sense of irony prevailed. For Kyle, an hour of Physics passed lethargically, excruciatingly; an hour of testing zipped by, hastily, like an arrow to its target. Paradoxically, Mr. Tan was always acutely aware of his lack of lesson time; while his leisurely, even sleep-inducing invigilation session dragged by without him realising it.

Einstein was right. Time is relative.

3.02 pm

Kyle found the room deserted, but his paper was still on the table. He crept up to it, taking long strides that lasted centuries. There he found it intact, but with newly added bold, red font:

APRIL FOOLS TO YOU TOO. I expect your Physics project to be on my desk by 8 am sharp tomorrow.

Mr. Tan

P/S: Jennifer won’t be seeing you this evening. I’ve grounded her for breaking her curfew last night.

            (1800 words)