The Great ERP Exam Mystery

During MBA, while I do not recall the semester, but at some point we had a course on Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP). If I am not mistaken, there were two course on ERP: "Enterprise Resource Planning I" and "Enterprise Resource Planning II". I think they were divided across two semesters. I had zero clue why we had to study ERP. Twenty-three years later, I still don't.

I was not the only one clueless about the course. In fact, the majority of the batch was equally clueless, and that prompted a special arrangement for the exam. It was turned into an 'open book' exam. Each of us was supposed to sit in front of computers, search for the right answers in the ERP library, and write them down on the answer sheet. 

That sounds simple and easy but, trust me, it was not. If I did not understand the questions, what chance did I have of finding the right answers?

A logistical issue came to my rescue. 

Since there were more students than the number of computers in the IT Lab, we were divided into groups. I think each group was assigned a different examination slot. Yet, it would still have taken a lot of time because ours was a big batch. So, to optimize further, it was decided that students in each group would be divided into pairs, with each pair having access to one computer. That meant that I would not die alone on the battlefield! 

I do not recall how the pairs were decided, but I got paired with Abhishek Mehta, one of the brightest students in our MBA batch. So, that meant I had the all-important responsibility of allowing Mehta to find the answers, confirm them with him, and then write them down on my answer sheet. But I was up for the challenge!

Next to us, my friends Vikas Khaitan and Pooja Wadhera were sitting. I had somehow done well in ERP I, and Khaitan had challenged me that he would outscore me in ERP II.

I was not nervous. I was confident....in Mehta's ability to find the answers. 

However, during the exam, Mehta kept getting confused. He would find something, sound confident, and just before we wrote it down, he would start having second thoughts. This went on for a while. Long enough for me to lose all confidence and start shitting bricks.

This did not go unnoticed by my dear friends sitting at the next computer. While I was busy controlling my heart attack, Khaitan and Pooja were giggling like schoolgirls. Every now and then, they would intentionally shout, "Mil gaya!" to announce that they have found another answer. Khaitan kept telling me that I would flunk! 

It was textbook sledging. The Australians would have been proud.

By the time they had filled 5-6 pages of the answer sheet, I had barely finished a single page! Apart from answers, their sheet was full of colorful diagrams and illustrations. In contrast, my sheet was mostly plain white. 

With only 60 minutes left, I decided to twist and break the neck of my pride and beg to them to share the answers. They laughed and said no. I continued to beg. 

With surgical precision, Khaitan waited until the moment when I had enough time to copy the answers but not enough time to copy the diagrams. And at that moment, he agreed to share the answers. 

I was absolutely fine with that. I was no longer looking to pass with distinction. I just wanted to pass.

I am a slow writer, but I tried to copy everything within the given time. In the end, I was relieved that I had written enough to ensure that I would probably not fail.

Two people were ecstatic. Pooja and, especially, Khaitan were celebrating in the parking lot. He was dancing and teasing me, saying that they would score more than me because of the diagrams and illustrations. Khaitan celebrated as if he had just won the ERP II equivalent of the World Cup.

I smiled and let it go. I was thankful.  

Few days later, the results were out. 

Khaitan and Pooja, who had identical answer sheets, scored around 60 out of 100. They were happy. But happiness is a relative term. 

They checked my score. I had got more than 80!

It was our Raju, Farhan and Rancho exam-results moment from 3 Idiots!

Khaitan was shocked. Pooja was surprised but was okay. I was surprised too...but pleasantly. 

It was, however, my duty, like a good friend, to tease them. I told them that maybe they had not understood the diagrams and had put the wrong ones in their answer sheets. Or maybe the examiner was offended by their gaudy artwork. Or maybe the examiner had gone by the overall impression of the students.

Khaitan blamed it on my good handwriting. 

To this day, I have no idea why I scored more than them. Maybe it was indeed my handwriting. Maybe the examiner appreciated minimalist answer sheets. Whatever the reason, it brought a smile then and still brings one now. 🙂 

Cheating: Lessons from the Last Bench

Whenever my daughter has a test or exam, I wish her in a light-hearted way. I tell her, "do not cheat but if you must cheat, do not get caught"! 

Recently, on one such occasion, she asked me if I have ever cheated. Of course, being a responsible father, I lied and told her that I have never cheated. However, it reminded me of some of the funny incidents that have happened to me related to cheating in tests or exams.

During my MBA, we also had to study Information Technology - including C++ programming and UNIX. To this day, I am not entirely sure why. Perhaps the college wanted to prepare us for every possible career path. 

For the exam, I had studied hard but had understood very little. In a moment of desperation, I wrote one program on a small piece of paper and kept it in my pocket. I also wrote another program on the desk where I was to sit. I had no idea what would be asked in the exam. My objective was simple: if nothing else, I would at least know how to begin and end a program. Yes, I was that bad in the subject.

The exam began. I turned the question paper over. Two questions were exactly the programs I had in my pocket and on my desk. JACKPOT!!

As soon as I saw those questions, I got down to business and started writing the answers like a well-prepared student. My friends, Dilip Kriplani (sitting on my left) and Ritesh Kumar (sitting in front) were obviously struggling and were looking at everyone with an expression of hopelessness and defeat. And then they saw me…and were shocked!

Ritesh asked me if I know the answers and I nodded. With disbelief written all over his face, he started pestering me to share the answers. I asked him to wait. This continued for few minutes and Ritesh got restless. He turned and grabbed my foot and violently shook it.

The invigilator saw that.

She walked over and scolded him: “If you do not know the answers, you may leave. At least do not disturb this boy who is writing so diligently. You should learn from him.”

I gave Ritesh a 'cunning smile'. Ritesh clenched his teeth! After the invigilator left, Ritesh turned back again and said few 'polite' words in frustration. Dilip and I tried very hard not to laugh - and failed.

I completed the two programs and, using them as templates, even attempted a third one. It turned out to be correct!!

While this is a funny incident (at least in my mind), when I think of cheating, a different incident comes to my mind. An incident where, unlike the previous one, I was at the receiving end.

We were in the final semester of MBA. By the final semester, everyone starts to focus on placements rather than case studies, assignments, tests and exams. For me and my best friend - Vikas Khaitan - nothing had changed as we had stopped worrying about those trivial things much earlier than others.

There was a test coming up (I do not recall the subject) and, like always, we had not prepared at all. I must add that one key difference between Khaitan and me is that I would at least suggest that we should study. He never suggested these things and in fact would completely dismiss such suggestions. On this occasion as well, I suggested that we should at least make an effort to study for the test but Khaitan dismissed the idea immediately. 

However, he came up with a compelling proposal and plan: his roommate, Vikram Tewari - studious, sincere, and always prepared - would sit with us, and we would copy from him. As I said, the proposal was extremely compelling and 'somehow' I could not refuse it!! We told Vikram about the plan and - being a nice guy (or may be because we were very nice guys) -  he agreed.

On the day of the test, Khaitan declared the seating arrangement: he would sit in the middle, Vikram on his left, and I on his right. This meant I would be entirely dependent on Khaitan’s copying speed. I voiced my concern. It was duly ignored.

The test began.

Vikram raced away like a Formula 1 driver from his pole position. Till this time, Khaitan was still settling down and 'setting things up'. After few minutes, I leaned to check on Vikram, who by then had almost reached the end of the first page of his answer sheet. Then I looked at Khaitan and there he was....drawing borders – slowly and carefully - on his answer sheet. Page after page.

I felt a cold wave of panic.

At that very moment, Khaitan started writing. I was relieved. He wrote one sentence. Then he paused. He reached into his bag and pulled out a pink highlighter. He then proceeded to highlight the borders and the only sentence that he had copied so far!!

By this time, Vikram had completed one full page and was staring at Khaitan's answer sheet in disbelief. For the first time, I was not alone in my anxiety. 

That is how the entire test went. Vikram would complete a page and then wait. Khaitan would copy at a leisurely pace, decorate his answer sheet, and occasionally admire his own formatting. I tried my best not to shit bricks and not to slow Vikram down, but I had little control.  

That day, I learned an important lesson.

No, not that one should study before an exam.

I learned that if you are going to depend on someone else, choose your position carefully. From the next test onwards, I made sure I sat directly next to the studious person.