The Damaged Report Card

I had a great ‘mishap’ after the half yearly examinations that year. We had been issued our report cards to carry them home and get the signatures of the parents. While at home, I entered into some alteration with my sister, which soon turned into an ugly fight. That time she was pursuing ETE course from DIET and in the heat of the moment, I laid my hands on her project and tore it down in pieces. In return, she grabbed my report card and tore it down into two pieces. We kept fighting till I received a tight slap from my dad, and we were both made to stand in different corners of the room facing the wall. It was only during that punishment we both realized that what damage we have caused to ourselves and to the other. Anyhow, I walked down to school next day with a pondering heart, almost sure of the harsh treatment I am due to receive, but still feeling the suspense that what exactly would be meted out. So, in the first period, madam started calling names of the students. The student had to walk upto the teacher to show the signatures in the report book. If somebody brought back the report card without signatures, that person was slapped tight twice, ordered to come with dad next day and was sent out of the classroom as a punishment. Those who had forgotten to bring the report card were made to stand in the classroom only with hands up, and were told to bring the report card and come along the parents next day. When my name was called, I walked slowly towards the teacher, with pieces of report card in my hand. As soon as she saw the torn report card, she brought fearsome expressions in her eyes. Even before, I could reach her, she shouted “ye kya hai”? In a low pitched voice, I tried explaining my circumstances, but even before that she grabbed my right ear and pulled it downwards with a great force. I cried in the intense pain. I still can’t forget that pain. She was continuously shouting at me, but I could not pay attention to that. I was just crying in the pain. Suddenly, she showered slaps on both of my cheeks. In fact, I could not understand what was going on. The next thing I remember is that she said in a loud voice, “chal, murga ban”. Very obediently, I found some space between the students who were standing with hands up, and assumed the murga position. Almost instantly, she told a girl in the class to bring a stick from the staff room, and she threw the pieces of the report card on my head and my back. So, this too was clear that she will use that stick on me only. Therefore, while in the murga position, I was terrified, I was sweating profusely, and almost nervously awaiting the next round of ‘rapping’. In the meantime, she continued receiving report cards from other students. I distinctly remember how I struggled to keep my posterior upwards, just in order to avoid harsher corporal punishment that could have come with lowering of my posterior. Obviously, butts were falling down, but within a minute or so, I applied all my strength to bring them up. But, again I could not hold them there for more than a minute. In short, I had my butts swinging up and down in the air. Initially, I was conscious of my clothes, but a few minutes into the punishment, I was no more aware of wherever my skirt was going. It was only after madam commented that girls these days get their skirts stitched up too short, and to the top of it, they purchase their socks too very short, “besharam ladkiyan”. Actually, we had salwar suits in our uniform from IX class onwards, therefore in VII and VIII classes only, when adolescence was catching up, we used to prefer shorter skirts that preferably did not touch the knees to fulfill our desires.

When the stick was brought into the class, she once again loudly called my name. I stood up erect, walked upto her and on orders displayed my right palm to her. Within a moment, I received a hard hit on it. Then she called for the another palm, and that too received the same treatment. Both the palms were caned twice each, and I was warned that the next day, I either come with my father, or I should better consider my name struck off from the school. For rest of the period, I was again sent to the same position to resume my punishment. This one remained one of my worst punishments in the entire school life.