Somebody just SHOOT me.

I know that I have a quiz in the Southeast Asian music course this week (a nicer euphemism for a class test, basically), but I do not realize that it takes place TODAY. Because the last quiz two weeks back took place during tutorial, I automatically presume that this week’s quiz would be conducted during such a session. NO! It takes place right smack at the beginning of lecture. Till now as I write this I still wonder where on earth I ought to have obtained the information that the quiz is on TODAY.

Okay, perhaps it was announced at the start of the lecture last week; I turned up but was grossly late by half an hour – as always.

In any case, upon arrival on the corridor where the seminar room is located (it’s a small class of about 80 people, hence not held in a lecture theatre), I spot someone leaning against the railing outside the seminar room, coffee cup in hand, speaking on her mobile phone. I suspect her to be another student of the course. Which passer-by would stand in the middle of this busy corridor without a bag, musing a coffee while speaking on the phone? A common practice during breaks is, when you need to make a phone call (or simply want to do so) is to go out of the room and loiter about the corridor immediately outside the door to do business.

And so I suspect the lecturer has given a break. But a break at 10.30am? The lecture began at 10am, and a break just half an hour later? Something is not right here…

Still thinking the bright side, I go into the room. Now the situation is simply NOT RIGHT. There is silence; all the students are kowtowing to some unseen thing on the little desks attached to their chairs; the lecturer is standing at his desk at the front but he is not saying anything…

I look at the nearest student and immediately recognize that sheet of paper.

Crisps! Why is the quiz on today?

I make my way up the aisle to collect an empty quiz paper. Thankfully I don’t have to ask the lecturer for one; they’re all placed on another table up front. So everybody might think I’m submitting the paper. Either that or they’re all too busy scribbling their answers.

I scour the seminar room for an empty seat. There is none. Every chair seems to be occupied by either a butt or a bag. I swear I could have died there and then. Eventually I decide to stop wasting time and simply plonk myself into any available seat – any seat that is empty for the moment shall be presumed empty!

Thankfully I had scouted the notes a few days back, hence there is some familiarity.

I tackle the first question. Suddenly I hear the lecturer speak for the first time this week: ‘You should be finishing your quizzes in another two to three minutes.’

WHAT! Two to three minutes! Not even the ample, pre-emptive warning of ten minutes!

Okay, keep calm, keep calm.

Then the claimant of the seat arrives. The moment she says to the student next to me (her friend), ‘What’s going on here?’, I somewhat know that the prime spot in this room where seats and walking space are scarce has originally been claimed. I apologise, grab my paper, and scour for other territories to seize for the rest of the lecture. It is much more difficult now, as other students are handing up their papers and going for break, hence I can’t be too certain which seats are genuinely empty. Well, there are empty seats – only that their little desks are missing.

Eventually I stand at the corner of the room where the additional chairs are stacked up (there are more chairs than room space to accommodate them all). I furiously scribble whatever I can. Attempt to exploit as many marks as I can.

The lecturer says, ‘Okay, you should be handing up your quizzes now’, rather than ‘Stop writing! Put your pens down!’ So that’s a relief. Taking advantage of the confusion of students moving in all manner of directions, I continue writing in my little hideout. Luckily the replies are short, straightforward, not essays. Basically the questions, about Indonesian music, require you to write out instrumental parts in relation to a skeletal melody. Indonesian music contains basic thematic material from which other parts of the composition are derived, as well as instrumental parts that play simultaneously with this basic theme. Within another five minutes I am done; there are still students making their way up to the front to submit their papers.

I did manage to complete the quiz, but I am extremely disappointed that I have not been abler to perform as well as I wanted to. This Southeast Asian music course is one that I want to do well in, particularly because it is easy to score, and it would at least be a life-saver for other subjects that I do not do too well in. I’m not exactly the sort of person who strives to be in the upper percentile in all my classes, but when it comes to courses that I’m very passionate about and I feel I have a good chance of doing well, I go all out for it.

I should get 30 strokes of the rotan for this for missing the start of the test by 30 minutes.