Are writing assessments a good way to measure writers' skills?

We all have passed through that phase in school when we used to wonder why one could score a centum in Mathematics, Science or Economics but it was a mandate that no student could score one in the languages papers. Thus, it would even make one ponder why there was a maximum score of hundred at all. Could words stringed into eloquent sentences, disregarding factual merit, ever be translated into a numerical value?

What then could be the rationality behind writing assessments? All writing should strictly adhere to the rules of grammar, prose or standard protocols for whatever category of work they fall into, which by the way, evolve more rapidly than we know. For instance, mobile phone text messages and social networking sites hardly adhere to this scaffold but are more widely read, “liked” and circulated than Shakespeare ever would have. This trend exists almost everywhere, except for pure literary work. Evaluation of a piece of writing on this basis serves as an excellent screening method, but here and there, its popularity may surpass its grammatical value, which, therefore, is an obvious hiccup in even this time tested procedure.

Nevertheless, once this framework is established, the work essentially has to be creative. It is important to lend some colour to a collection of words with “a”, “an” and “the” at just the right places. A good piece of writing is not just understandable, but necessarily doesn’t elicit a yawn. But that alone, may not suffice as a good assessment parameter. Litterateurs may swear by Elliot and Dickens but the average teenager is more likely to find them plain boring. Creativity is established from different perspectives. Just like one may adore a Michelangelo at sight but rather progress only gradually from disgust to acquired understanding of Picasso’s “Dora-maar”, writing is a multi-culinary recipe. One just has to lend the right taste at the right time. A writer, no matter how skilled, may not qualify the assessor’s examination if their style is not quite to the examiner’s liking.

The art of writing is not tangible to be evaluated. Conventional writing assessments do not justify the latitude that literature offers to writers. Moreover, rigid evaluations create the risk of a literary homogeneity, which is a bane for any culture or language. However, if writing is assessed disregarding personal tastes and in as unbiased a manner as humanly possible, it may fairly reflect a writer’s skills. Beyond that stage, the best possible system in today’s scenario is peer- review of work. People with similar styles, tastes and sensibility form a panel of examiners may assess only that particular type of writing, therefore, allowing heterogeneity to flourish. A method of assessment should be constructed, that could possibly offer some scope for eccentricity; which is a must for anything in nature to evolve and survive. 

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About Forgiveness

They once said, “To err is human, but to forgive is divine.”

So this seemingly smart ever-so-pleasing girl remains a friend to your face, so much so, that when she finally openly bitches about you big time, you’re simply caught unawares. It is a good deal of defamation she has caused you. Nobody believes you, and those who do, know that it simply wasn’t your fault at all in any way. You never even asked for it. But then, you simply forgive her, even when she feels the least guilty about it, let alone apologize to you. Reality check, you’d be a “doormat” for your philanthropy.

To err is inhuman, to say ‘sorry’ is somewhat human, to forgive is certainly human and to resist from punching in their nose is definitely, very humane. For the very act of “Being Human” nowadays is such a colossal effort, what with celebrities sporting T-shirts to that effect.

I understand that the aforementioned incident does not provoke such anger as would command one’s sizeable life force to be poured into a herculean endeavour of forgiveness. I also run the risk of being labelled a sissy schoolgirl or gather some lols and roflmaos on Facebook if I carry any “trauma” of this incident now.  However, consider this. Recently, in an episode of a famous radical TV programme dealing with social issues in India, the problem of child sexual abuse was being discussed, when a man who had been sexually abused for more than 9 years by a person whom he and his family knew closely, narrated his story. He had gone to his abuser, who was on his deathbed and had said just three simple words, “I forgive you.” That man was undoubtedly not a loser or a coward, let alone be a doormat. He is a successful textile designer today, and brave enough to echo his ordeal on national television. Why then, did he choose for such a heinous crime, a meek act of forgiveness instead?

Let’s break it up to make it simpler. The first phase of victimization is best exemplified by the self-question, “How can you forget what happened?” The very sensation, that your mental and physical defences weren’t strong enough to repel the onslaught, and that it is a shame for your ability to heal to be abnormally strong in the face of those feeble ramparts, is that of guilt. At this stage one ought to realise that one’s anger is not towards the crime or its perpetrator, but towards oneself, or those who were meant to protect us. It is akin to getting bruised and developing a scab on the wound, but you tear down the scab and the regenerating tissue again and again, producing fresh bleeding, saying- “No, I cannot simply forget what happened. How can things go on normally when I’m hurt?” The wound which would have healed cleanly otherwise, becomes septic, and more severe. The inability to forgive oneself first, is an amplifier for the original crime. The aftermath is that of a local wart metastasizing into a cancer of the body and mind, which was once healthy and thriving. Like cancer, once developed, this bitterness is practically untreatable.

Fine, you attended yoga classes regularly. You emulated a certain sage and exhaled out any sense of vengeance. Now you smile and go back as if everything were normal, and you’re walking down the corridor, lo and behold, the same horrid girl passes by you giggling amongst a bevy of pals, waves out a cheery “Good morning” to you or goes a step further and gives you an agonizing hug, while you detest the smell of her deodorant (which actually is the same brand you wear yourself!). You know that she knows and vice versa, so you carefully avoid any revealing eye contact at her outrageous audacity and you’re plunged into thought as she walks away…apparently…happy. Angry, sad, and tearful, all over again.

Yes, they don’t even seem to feel guilty about it. Contrary to the popular saying, crime actually pays very well, materialistically, double of what righteousness would. The trick is actually in knowing yourself and choosing one of two equally difficult struggles- to be righteous and get pitched against the immoral, or to be immoral and fight your self and also other immoral mortals, so, you cannot evaluate yourself as righteous or otherwise based on how many seemingly “immoral” people you repel. Scriptures recognize the “self” or the spirit as the sole truth of existence, the body being a temporary medium. If you do not find yourself at odds with your conscience, you’re closer to the truth and spiritually richer than your offender, something, which money and master card cannot buy.

“How can I forgive them?” You’re halfway there already when you let yourself go with the flow of time in the first phase. By now, you also know what category from the above two, you fall in. When you elevate yourself to the level of your spirit, their transgression upon your material person is similar to the dust gathered underneath the sole of the foot. You do not hit the dust back, but you continue to walk till you have to. When you reach your destination, you simply wash the filth off your feet.

Similarly, dust does, and will gather upon your feet in the journey of life. Sometimes the filth is a fine film of dust, sometimes it is knee deep sticky muck, sometimes they get blown away by a welcome gust of wind (remember your friends and family who stood you through), sometimes they dry and get shed off while you walk. But it exists nevertheless, unless you wear shoes of detachment. When death comes, it gushes unpredictably like water, washing away everything clean in its wake. For the traveller it is only another journey, but for the dust, it is in its fate to be washed away as silt, so choose wisely.

Forgive and forget. Now, that you’ve forgiven, delete that nasty creep from your friend list and block her on Facebook. God, she totally sucks!

The He and The She

Advance party!

Biscouts and chipes

The Bovine Adornment

The Political Guillotine

Loose wait!

How did you do it then?