Not in the Classroom, but in Life: The Exam We Keep Failing
The world doesn’t need more informed spectators. It needs students who are finally ready to care.
Today is Teacher’s Day.
Social media is already filling up with gratitude posts, classroom throwbacks, and quotes about great educators. And sure, teachers deserve every bit of appreciation.
But here’s the question that keeps gnawing at me:
We have good teachers. But are we good students?
Not students of math or grammar. Students of life itself.
Because while we celebrate learning, my neighbours keep ignoring the morning announcements about waste segregation. While we post about gratitude, I’m still breathing Delhi’s poisoned air — an AQI that tastes like smoke and negligence.
We’re graduating from classrooms but failing the subjects that matter most: responsibility, integrity, care.
The garbage mountain not far from here
Every morning, the loudspeaker repeats the same instruction: segregate your waste.
It’s not complicated. Two extra minutes of thought.
And yet, day after day, everything goes into the same black bag.
Organisations don’t.
Individuals won’t.
Meanwhile, in my own kitchen, I compost every scrap, turn cardboard into mulch, reuse egg cartons, repurpose disposable containers. Not because I’m virtuous. But because I know where all that waste ends up.
A short drive from here stands Mount Vikas — a garbage mountain dressed up with a euphemism, as if “development” could disguise decay.
I may not see it from my balcony, but I carry the knowledge of it.
And knowledge has a smell.
Breathing in everyone’s choices
The air is no different.
Every inhale brings with it stubble burning, unchecked emissions, vehicles that could run cleaner but don’t. My lungs are where my responsibility collides with everyone else’s irresponsibility.
The AQI is not an app number.
It’s the substance of my next breath.
Neutrality is complicity
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: doing nothing is not neutral.
Every time we shrug and say “What difference can one person make?” we are voting for decay. Every time we spectate instead of participate, we endorse the outcome.
We’ve professionalized indifference.
We’ve made apathy sound sophisticated.
“I can’t save everyone.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“It won’t matter if I do it alone.”
These aren’t wisdom.
They’re excuses.
Giving a damn isn’t naive
Somewhere along the way, we decided that caring deeply was childish.
But children get it right. They care fiercely about fairness, about the wounded bird, about the kid being bullied. They haven’t yet learned the polished detachment we mistake for adulthood.
Cynicism is not wisdom.
Caring is not weakness.
We can’t afford not to give a damn.
The real lesson
So yes, let’s thank our teachers today. But let’s also ask: what kind of students are we?
Because the real test isn’t in the classroom. It’s in the choices we make when no one is grading us.
The next piece of waste you sort or don’t sort.
The next breath you take.
The next time you decide whether to care.
The lesson isn’t complicated. The only question is: are we finally ready to learn it?