A page of my life.

I don't have anything to write, still I sat down to do it just because I felt like writing.  I know this is not something I normally do, but this time, I'll just let the careful editing take some rest.

The following incidents are taken out of the short 'life-story' I once wrote for somebody. Incidentally, it never served its purpose.
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I never received much beating from the teachers, but there are two days which I could never forget. On both occasions, I knew the teachers personally. One was my aunt Sadia mami/mamani, and the other was my mom's best friend's husband, Faiz Sir.

Sadia mamani tought me urdu when I was in 4^th standard. I didn't complete the homework one day and was a little scared as she was quite strict in the class. Before her class some kids told me “arre tujhe thodi na kuch hoga, teri to mumani hain”, I become a little relieved by that comment.

When she came to the class and asked those who haven't completed their homework to stand up. I stood up with several others. She started asking each one of the them the reason for not doing the homework. I heard her threatening some of them with strict actions, while I stood waiting for my turn, head down, half nervous, half relaxed. Once or twice, I would tilt my head slightly in her direction to see her frowning at kids.

My number came. She asked why I didn't do my homework. I remained silent. She asked again. I kept looking sheepishly at the desk without a word, hoping she would make a face or scold me and move on. Then, she gave a tight slap on my face.

Different emotions flooded my face instantly and my eyes were immediately filled with tears trying to break out. But it wasn't the pain that welled my eyes, it was the total surprise that hit me along with that slap, and the embarrassment that followed. Somewhere I knew that the whole class was looking at me in unison without even looking up.

While she moved on to the other students, I stood there, desperately trying to hold back my tears, which was pretty difficult since I was looking downwards. She didn't slap anyone else that day.

I can clearly remember the classroom, the row and the desk I was standing, the weather, the time of the day as it happened just yesterday.

On the other occasion we were on a school picnic at Nehru Garden when I was in class 5^th maybe. We were playing something(probably throwing frisbees) in the park and we were told to stay in a group. Meanwhile I got a little thirsty, so I told one of my friends to wait for me there, while I go and drink water. He said OK.

I wasn't gone long but when I came back, nobody from our group was present there. I searched and roamed the whole park but couldn't find any of my classmates or concerned teachers. There were other teachers and students but for the fear of a lecture, I decided not to approach them. After spending a good amount of time and energy to look for a familiar face, I decided to go back to the bus we came in. 

I sat in the bus for 1 1\2 hours, upset and hungry, when crowd started coming. A teacher hurriedly entered the bus first and on finding me there, said 'Dekho! Yahan baitha hai'.

I knew something bad was about to happen just as worried Faiz Sir climbed the bus filled with tension and anger. His face was red and he looked very scary. Suddenly, I was glued to the seat somehow as he came towards me. He asked me whether I was told to stay with the group or not, in a very low whisper. Before I could utter a word, he delivered 4-5 consecutive slaps neatly on both of my cheeks. 

He asked again, after letting out his anger and taking some deep breaths and I related the whole story to him and other teachers standing behind him with continuous and concurrent hiccups and tears.

Thus, the picnic day summed up for me without any considerable fun and crying all the way back.

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I still haven't written strictly as there was nothing new and this was already written somewhere. But I feel nonetheless a little relieved. I am still finding it hard to put to words what I actually wanted to write now.