SS182 - part 1

This is the story of a young man, very much like me. So much so, that I will narrate this story in first person.
LUMS. No, not a misspelled dirty word. No, not a disease. Not even Lahore University of(fering) Marital Services. But getting warmer. Let's start again.
LUMS. Lahore University of Monday/Mid-day/Misdirected Sermons.
Finally, LUMS. Lahore University of Management Sciences. The grandest (second to Aitchison, of course) educational institution in the country. Where I spent two miserable quarters, labouring ten to fifteen minutes every week in order to get normal grade in Islamic Studies. A face showing grade. Nothing too flashy, like an A, to suggest any fanatic tendencies nor anything too third grade, like a C, to prevent the truth from being revealed. ( Please, do not misunderstand my use of the word reveal ).
'What truth?', you might ask. The truth not suggesting any atheistic tendencies but the truth suggesting lack of, how to put it politely... oh yes: the truth suggesting a lack of aptitude for the course.
I still remember the course code: SS182. The horrors and the nightmares associated with that era I cannot bring myself to divulge... my fingers shake and then I type words that are not real words.
I took the course twice. I took the course twice. Just like I wrote that last sentence twice. Twice.
The first time I ended up with a C-, a few feeble points above "FAIL!". And to think I had an A in O'Level Islamiat. Maybe it was the overconfidence. I made the mistake of actually claiming it to be overconfidence when I was confronted by my parents. At least, there is a morale to this story, albeit in the beginning of the story.
The second time, (with a serious lack of overconfidence) I set out to improve upon the C- performance; I was handed a C.
"It is Futile", was the message. Loud and Clear, sir.
But, how did I manage to end up with a C- in the first place?
It wouldn't be possible without a twist in the tale. Ten minutes a week are more than ample. When confronted, admitting this last bit was even worse than the overconfidence.
When I first took SS182, my uncle was teaching. Obviously, I had the advantage. Ha! That's what I thought.
He, a man of integrity, would never ever do me favour over other students. In fact, he would make sure there be no room for any assumptions. And me, overconfident about my integration skills alluding to integrity, never asked him for any special treatment either. And I also would go out of my way to make sure that I did not do too well in the course, to prevent the tongues from wagging.
I guess we both were a bit too careful.