Ramu searched frantically through his bag, his forehead glistening with sweat. He was a picture of chaos amidst the orderly rows of his classmates. Shyam, his friend, sat beside him, calmly reviewing his notes. "Arrey Shyam, mera pen kahan gaya?" Ramu's voice was a mixture of panic and desperation.
"Chill Ramu, I have an extra one. Here," Shyam replied, handing over a pen with an amused smile.
Ramu grabbed the pen as if it were a lifeline. "Thanks, yaar! Tu hi mera saviour hai." Relieved, he began writing furiously, only to pause abruptly as a realization hit him.
Ramu stared at his paper, eyes wide with disbelief. "Arre! Paper to Hindi mein hai!" he exclaimed, drawing a few curious glances.
Shyam chuckled, not looking up from his paper. "Kya hua Ramu? Hindi nahi aati kya?" he teased.
Ramu muttered to himself, attempting to decipher the questions. His mind was a jumble of words as he tried to translate them. He scribbled random answers, hoping for a miracle.
She stopped behind Ramu, who was busy writing gibberish. "Kya kar rahe ho Ramu?" she asked sternly.
Ramu froze, his heart skipping a beat. "Ji madam, soch raha hu..." he stammered, trying to sound innocent.
Madam narrowed her eyes. "Soch kar kya likhoge?"
His fingers brushed against a crumpled piece of paper in his pocket—a cheat sheet he had forgotten about. "Madam, mera... mera... paper gir gaya tha!" he whispered desperately.
Madam raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Paper? Kya paper?"
Ramu fumbled for words. "Wo... wo..."
She pulled out the crumpled cheat sheet, her expression shifting to one of fury. "Bahar jao!" she commanded, her voice echoing in the hall.
Ramu slumped his shoulders, defeated. He stood up, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, and trudged out of the examination hall. Shyam shook his head, a mix of amusement and sympathy on his face.
Shyam refocused on his paper, the corners of his lips twitching in a smile. The chaos of Ramu's antics had brought unexpected laughter to a tense day,
