Ravi was the most famous student in his class—not for his studies, but for his endless excuses. His teachers often joked that for Ravi, opening a book was as difficult as understanding “black letters equal a buffalo,” meaning written words made no sense to him.
One day in math class, the teacher asked, “Ravi, what do you get if you subtract 7 from 25?”
Ravi replied with complete seriousness, “Sir, should I subtract 7 or add 25?”
The entire class burst into laughter.
Ravi’s notebook was always neat and clean—not because he solved all the questions, but because it contained more drawings than answers. Sometimes he sketched houses along the margins, sometimes mountains, and often a buffalo with the caption, “Black letters equal a buffalo.”
At home, things were no different. His mother would say, “Son, at least study a little.”
Ravi would confidently reply, “Mom, knowledge comes from the heart, not from books.”
The day before the exam, Ravi finally decided that he would start studying seriously. He opened his book and began reading the first page. Within five minutes, he started yawning. “Well, this is just the beginning,” he thought. But that “beginning” lasted so long that he ended up falling asleep on the sofa.
On the day of the exam, Ravi prayed earnestly, “Dear God, please make the questions easy.” When he received the question paper, he realized that he did not understand half of the questions. He began writing answers anyway—where he knew nothing, he simply wrote imaginative stories.
When the results were announced, Ravi managed to pass, but with very low marks. His teacher smiled and said, “Ravi, if you had worked a little harder, you could have scored much better.”
Scratching his head, Ravi replied, “Sir, I’m more used to dreaming than studying.”
After returning home, Ravi decided that next time he would focus on his studies. Yet deep down, he knew that being the “black letters equal a buffalo” kind of student was an old habit—and not an easy one to change.