a not so ideal idea

I came across a one-fourth piece of dusted yellow paper from the tons of clutter I collected through college. I smiled at myself upon realizing why I kept the trash.

Flashback.

Monday. It was past five and the semi-lit, semi-dark room at the end of the alley was peopled with my busy classmates, trying to inject as much information as possible in their heads. Minutes after, the prosecutor, also our professor comes in and everybody sat down and shut up.

It has been his teaching strategy to give a quiz of some 15 items every Monday. Whether we like it or not.

Lazy as I am, I pay no much time reviewing as I find it too much of a burden.  My philosophy is, why should I relearn something that has already been absorbed by my brain (or not?). Either way, I just feel that it is too much toil to repeat things over and over again.

Memorize. It’s one thing I never really liked to do. And I am definitely not good at.

But the trade calls for it. We were taking a Law subject. A minor subject. But nothing seemed minor.

Maybe I was not doing my best or trying at least.

But I have already surrendered to the fact that I am not good at it and will not make it good. Ever.

I am not that dumb, though. I actually believe that I have a piece of talent and wit in me. I also do good in school. Okay, in some areas. Like I am a trying-hard writer and a trying-hard artist.

But not the geek.

I would often tell my academically-inclined friends that grades do not make a large part of who we are. I was exaggerating, of course. Just trying to convince them not to review any further (so it won’t appear like I am the dumbest of all with them memorizing all that has been written in their torn notes.)

That wouldn’t succeed though. Papers passed, answers checked (and ex’ed), back to the owners.

Voila! They triumph with their perfect scores. One mistake break their hearts.

And me? Like in other situations, divine intervention would always come upon me. I check my paper and the score I get feels most fulfilling than any other in the room.

He who knew least and got more than what he thought he knew is way happier than he who thought he knew all that there is to know but missed one.

Not that I am convincing anybody to be content with what they have, or what they know, but I believe you can’t always push for something you can’t. If it becomes a frustration, more than a fulfillment, then maybe it’s not the right thing.

But it’s not a one-size-fits-all situation.

It just so happened that on my part, I choose the path of the fair weather.

While I sometimes pass, courtesy of the universe conspiring to save me from shame, there are also chances that I get what nobody would dream of. And I deserve it.

Just like this dusty piece of paper – side by side with my name, in red ink – a giant number 1, altogether with three wrong answers and eleven blanks.

The irony is, it’s the one I keep – the one that makes me smile.