Reminiscences of school life-I

The Place: St Paul’s Institute, New Lamka, Manipur
The Time: July 1993

It was the summer of 1993, just after the summer holidays. I thought it would be just another Physics class, oblivious of how life could spring surprises at you. I was in my VIth standard when this incident happened.

We greeted our Physics teacher, “Good morning sir”, as usual. Before taking class, he distributed our half-yearly examination answer sheets. But mine was not there so I stood up and said, "Excuse me sir, I didn’t get my paper”. To this he replied, “If your paper wasn’t there then you must be absent.” I know for a fact that I was clearly not absent and sat for the paper. So I retorted back, “Sir I wasn’t absent, I sat for the paper. You can check the attendance sheet and my friend here can vouch that I wasn’t absent”, gesturing towards my friend sitting next to me. My friend vouched for my presence. But our teacher was adamant. He insisted that as my paper wasn’t there that means I didn’t sit for the paper. End of discussion. At this a feeling of rage overtook me and I blurted out. “You didn’t check the papers yourself and let your tuition students check them. So my paper might have got lost in the process.” On hearing this he became very angry and started beating me, adding fuel to the fire raging within me. So I said, “You beat me for no fault of mine. I will go to the principal and complain about your misconduct.” He retorted, “Yeah you can go right now”, probably thinking that I would not have the guts to go to the principal.

It so happened that this teacher of ours conducted home tuitions and he let his tuition students check our papers. I came to know of this because one of our classmates’ elder sister took tuition from this teacher and she was the one who checked our papers. So the whole class came to know of our marks (with the exception of me) even before he distributed our papers. At that time I comforted myself that maybe my paper was checked by another person and so my marks were missing from the list.

Coming back to the incident that day, I went to the principal and told him about the incident at class that day-how I was beaten by my teacher for no fault of mine and how our answer sheets were checked by persons other than our teacher. At first the principal did not believe my words but when I spoke out that facts and when he checked the attendance sheet he found out that I was present and indeed I was speaking the truth. He assured me that he would speak to the teacher and told me not to worry.

The next day I was called to the principal’s room. He told me that I had secured 94% in the Physics paper and congratulated me. He said that he had a talk with our teacher and it seemed that he (the Principal ) had given him a good scolding.

After that day, our teacher was never his former self again. Before, he was a cheerful guy who used to crack jokes and laugh a lot. He was a jovial sort of guy. But from that day onwards he was always gloomy and rarely interacted with other teachers. He quitted after a month or so.

I had a feeling that he quitted because of that incident with me. And I sometimes felt uneasy thinking that I was responsible for his quitting his job. But I really didn’t blame myself. Because he was a teacher and he was paid not only to teach but to check our papers. Letting others check our answer sheets was clearly a dereliction of duty on his part which needs to be exposed. Nobody even complained when they clearly know that he wasn’t doing his job but he started beating me for no fault of mine. And that proved to be his nemesis.

Teachers are the builders of the nation and they should serve as examples to the students. It is because of teachers like him who shirk their duty and wanted only personal gains that the conditions of our schools, be it government or private, are so deplorable.

My Love

My affair with her began a few years ago

The first time I came to Delhi in 2000

I had heard so much about her through word of mouth

But I have never met her before

And then a friend introduced me to her

The first time I met her, I was shy and hesitant

Then gradually I fell for her charms and her beauty

She is so knowledeable and always willing to share her knowledge with me

She tells me about almost everything that I want to know

She sings for me and cracks jokes when I am upset

I never feel bored or lonely when I am with her

Now I am completely enamoured by her

And I am head over heels in love with her

Rarely a day would pass by that I am not near her

And she has become part and parcel of my life

Her name is ........THE INTERNET!!!

Lamka-Then and Now (A Reflection)

Land of peace

That had once been the epithet used to describe my native place – Lamka – otherwise officially known as Churachandpur. I refuse to call it Churachandpur as it is a name imposed on my beloved Lamka by the powers that be against wishes of the local people. Lamka – the place where I grew up and which gives me so many memories – some sad and some sweet. Bittersweet may be the appropriate word here. The place that once was the only peaceful district in the otherwise trouble-torn Manipur – an oasis in the desert. Where different communities lived in peace and harmony.

The older generation would always look back in nostalgia of the days gone by - when Lamka was an oasis of peace in the trouble-torn desert of Manipur. “Those were the days…” is the usual refrain of a lot of people. The 1980s and the early 1990s were indeed the golden era of Lamka. I was a young teenager in the early 1990s and I fondly remember roaming the streets of Lamka along with friends without fear and without any care or worry. To paraphrase Rabindranath Tagore it was indeed a place “where the mind is without fear”. We would roam with friends along Tedim Road or even to Tuibuang at night. We would shout at the top of our voices singing love songs and what not! We had no cares or worries and we were very content with our lives. No gunshots, no murders or senseless killings. How I cherish those memories!

But since the mid-1990s winds of change have swept across Lamka. Sadly a change for the worse. It started with kidnappings and demands for ransom money and these eventually led to senseless and mindless killings. The culmination of all these was the Kuki-Zomi ethnic conflict which resulted in the death and destruction of many lives and property on either side. Eventually peace accord was signed and the ethnic conflict came to an end.

But sadly enough Lamka has still not returned to normalcy and is still not the place it once was. Killings and gunshots have become the order of the day. And it seems like all these troubles are here to stay, for a long, long time…

Sidney Seldon is no more

Sidney, the master storyteller and the king of suspense died at 89 years of age. He died of complications from pneumonia at Eisenhower Medical Centre in Rancho Mirage.

I have been an ardent fan of Sheldon and have read almost all of his novels. "Tell Me Your Dreams" is his best work from my point of view. Other notable novels include "The Other Side of Midnight", "Master of the Game" etc.

"I try to write my books so the reader can't put them down," he explained in a 1982 interview. "I try to construct them so when the reader gets to the end of a chapter, he or she has to read just one more chapter. It's the technique of the old Saturday afternoon serial: leave the guy hanging on the edge of the cliff at the end of the chapter."

Sheldon says his writing pads and pens were his most treasured posssessions. Once when a fire broke out in the Los Angeles canyon in which they were living, police told them to evacuate. Out of the many valuables they had he took only his yellow pads and pens knowing they would be holed up in a hotel somewhere for days, and couldn't imagine not being able to write.

He says "I will not write about anyplace in the world unless I've been there to personally research it. I always spend time exploring the customs and attitudes of the countries I'm using for locations, and interviewing the people who live there. I've visited over 90 countries thus far. It's my custom to hire a driver to give me a tour of whatever city or town I am in. One night, on a lonely mountain road in Switzerland, I asked my driver where a good place might be to dump a body. I'll never forget the look on his face!"

That's Sheldon for you. A truly great writer. We will miss you Mr Sheldon. But your books will remain with us forever.