The misadventure I want to forget

It was her lecture. She entered the class with furious scurry steps. Her one hand was full of bulky books, to refer in between, which were only used at the time of dictation and her other hand had the wide open roll call, which soon was a cause of panic for us, as she called out the numbers as per the seats allocated and started interrogating each one of us hapless fellows, about why were we not present for her lecture on so and so date and how we spent our time.
“This is foolish”, I said inaudibly. “Instead of completing the syllabus they pass the time in such matters, blaming us for the non-completion of the portion.” But my mates were also astute. They told her about how they were sick, many said, they had personal work, and most were just turning the situation upside down by making funny comments. I had no idea, for which I was laughing and passing comments on others, when the teacher uttered these words, “roll no. 63.”
I was shaken by what seemed inevitable. 63 was my roll no. In that period of commotion, I was too confused whether to stand or be seated. Two of my close friends had just told that they had to go to some government office, to collect some document, when they were bunking the lectures, enjoying freely, outside the college campus. I didn’t know what to do. I just got up, in a hasty way raised my hand and sat down. I didn’t know what to say. I parched out of words. I ran out of excuses. With a clear intention I elucidated.
“I bunked, … I bunked the lecture.” I felt nothing. Not even to flinch what I had said, as I believed it was an offense to say it on the face of the teacher, regarding her subject, in front of a fully packed class, which had a full on entertainment show to attend to.
This was just the welcome speech. I knew that the teacher would throw fiery words at me and shut me up for good. After all, she had just started, getting annoyed listening to the 62 lies and was desperate to hear some truth. Well, there I was in the right corner on the last bench.
“But I went to the library.” My friends laughed at my stubborn comment, but their faces also had the glint of, “Whoa! What’s this guy gonna say next?” The teacher looked at me with big eyes, like a woman about to punish her kid, and there was me, who had faced 17 similar situations, seemed the most tranquil in the whole class. “Why?” the teacher reacted. “I got bored so I went and set in the library.” I answered genuinely. “You attended the first two lectures? Didn’t you get bored?” Now, she was talking nonsense. “No, I didn’t bunk the first two lectures. They were good, interesting.” That was the best I could come up with.
“Who do you think you are? You cannot bunk the lectures, you cannot leave the class without the permission of the teacher.” The teacher shouted. ”Like hell I can’t. I’m in College not in KG.” Which fortunately didn’t reach the ears of the teacher. “You cannot behave anyhow in the society; can I slap my father just because I feel like slapping him? Can I slap you if I want to?” Teacher was really not in the mood of forgiving.
“That’s your decision, not mine.” Now, I too was getting carried away. But I thought, what did I do wrong? Everybody was bunking and lying over the top. I just told the truth. I was not interested in whatever she was going to say and still managed to maintain my calm and peaceful frame.
She was on the back foot now and I knew she was going to talk through me, make me feel like I’m the criminal here. This is one of those times, when you feel like you have participated in campaigning and other are playing little game called, ‘politics.’ “I’ve been noticing you, since last year until now. You are a good, sincere student. But you’re trying to change this year. I don’t know, why.” This was , .. I don’t know what that was, but I think she was looking at my hair, when said that. I had grown my hair, even had a hair band on it, to ensure that they don’t run into my eyes.
The teacher was ranting whatever came to her mind. Seeing my apathy, she turned to other students to tell her “Bhagvat Gita, like a sage giving real education to his disciples. After this was over, I realised that there wasn’t even a smidgen of anger on me. I was serene and calm as before. I was back to smiling. But one thing bothered me. I didn’t mean to offend the teacher in front of the full class.

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