A Non-Matric B.A. In Reaching Out The Un-Reached (Open University) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

A Non-Matric B.A. In Reaching Out The Un-Reached (Open University)



Natwarlal, see you
What it is happening here
Once upon a time you used to issue
Fake and fraud certificates and degrees,
Just emulating them,
But now-a-days the degrees are o.k.,
Registered for and taken really
But through unfair means.

I mean they have the valid degrees
And they have after being students,
But have opened notes and have copied down,
The valid degrees
But written under the tree shade
Of the franchisee centre
Of the brokers,
The varsity got the fees,
The students got themselves enrolled and registered
But the degrees unread.

Open University, open the books, books too not,
Your modules and notes
And copy down,
Come unprepared in the venues
And lie in wait to cheat,
Asking the principal co-ordinator
For loose guard and invigilation
And if this be,
Why to maintain the paraphernalia
Of coming with the police escort
Form the local police station?

I think this is as for keeping the calm and quiet of the public,
This is as for maintaining law and order,
To give the solace
They are here,
There will not be any chaos,
The guardians hurling stones
With the slips of paper into the halls,
Some come to send the solved answers through.

Open University, open the notes and modules done
And copy down,
Steal in the examination hall,
Academic counsellors, not municipal ward councilors,
Expel them not
Like the oldies,
Or the examinees walking out of the hall,
Some blunt boys of criminal mind
Threatening the invigilators
After the exam is over.

The olden day is almost over,
Look not behind,
Write you yourself, whatever know you,
If caught red-handed,
Reported against will be written
And your result will not be published
And even then examinees used to keep
The slips of paper
Into the boots and socks,
The underwears,
The inner pockets.

Now in Open University, open your notes
And write down
And if they let you not,
Students will not be in the study centre,
It will close down,
Money will not come to counsellors
Engaged
For the term,
The employees and sitting candidates
Do the degrees from.

Many of the schoolteachers after doing their M.As.
And primary schoolteachers B.As.,
Copying in the examination halls
Without any sort of preparation and study
Call others not to copy,
Lecture about the fall in standard and education,
How can it be,
How dare say it?

As for M.A., they already get 18 marks out of 20 for home assignment
And for the rest 80,
They sit for
And for B.A., they get 25 out of 30 for assignment
And sit for just 80
And instead of bungling and burglary,
They call it questions had been hard,
They did not steal in the exam venue,
They are the serious fellows.

To me, they are no less than thieves and dacoits,
Goons, anti-socials and pick-pockets,
They are no less than scamsters, gangsters and fraudsters,
Even Natwarlal too had not been so fraud and false,
Many took the false degrees form him
And served
By giving less to him,
Drew salary,
Pension, gratuity and provident fund money
And got respect too
But the vigilance department catching it after death.

A non-matric B.A. I can see it now,
There was a time when Prabesika, I mean seven pass students
Used to primary school teachers,
As per British education pattern
And now a boy or a girl having attained the 18 years of age
Can sit for the BPP (Bachelor’s Preparatory Programme)
And can pass easily
Two hundred marks aligned examination
To be admitted to Bachelor’s Degree Programme.

It is better to reach the un-reached in the distance education programme
But the open far more flexible,
The officials calling through the phone,
Open your notes and write
But get admitted to,
If the number is o.k., the centre will run
And if not, the post will be gone
And the centre closed down.

There was a time when the village clown used to say
That he will first do his M.A. then his B.A.
Then his I.A.
And the last of all, his Matriculation
And the same thing is happening now-a-days,
First, deserve then desire not,
First, desire then deserve.

Just you call yourself a gold medalist
And they will come to respect
But you must say
Whether you are or not,
This does not matter at all,
You can at least start coaching centres.

The scholars of the olden age used to be pontifical,
Hypocritical and proud,
Putting an air to their personality,
But the modern-day ones comparatively liberal
And open-minded.

Like the chit fund company directors,
The franchisee centres
Just with a table and two chairs,
The salesman and the saleswoman
Making the students do M.A., M.Phil. and B.Ed.,
Just the brokers with the identity cards
Hanging from
To show them as press reporters or media managers
With the motorcycles, with the press word written over.

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