Trauma of punishment

right in the middle: The teacher pinned a paper to my back which read in bold red letters: "I will not cheat again."

It was 1940s. I was in class II in Hubli in a convent. The math teacher had given us two sums to be done for homework.

The page in which the sums were copied had to be kept on our desks for the teacher to correct them. I was so innocent, and ignorant, that I kept the page open despite having not done the work. When the teacher came near me, she held my ear and pulled me up.
“Did I not say that all those who have not done their homework should go out of the class?” she howled. I was taken aback! I must have not been attentive to her orders, for I sat in my place without getting up and going out. It is only after her loud admonishment that I noticed some girls standing outside class.

“Sorry teacher, I did not hear,” I said meekly. “How could you not hear? Everyone has heard,” she thundered again. When I prepared myself to go out, she held me back and said, “You will not go out now.

You will stay back for the ‘big-detention’ during lunch hour in school and do your work. In the meantime, remember not to cheat again.” She seemed like a devil in front of me.

But that wasn’t all. The teacher called me to her table when the lunch-bell rang and showed me a paper on which was written in big, red capital letters – “I WILL NOT CHEAT AGAIN”.

She pinned it to my back and said, “Go, sit in the detention class during lunch hour.” What I felt then is something I cannot explain. I cried and cried! But I could not disobey the teacher, so I carried my math notebook to the room where there was a board that read ‘Detention Class’. I sat there and did my work, which took only 15 minutes.

I told the teacher who was in the class that I had completed my work. But she would not let me go. It was lunch time and I was hungry. My stomach was screaming. Something fortunate happened then. My aunt was also studying in the same school, in the class X, at that time.

Normally, my sister and I had our lunch with her in the school ground. Noticing my absence that day, she came to our class to find me. The teacher told her that I was punished and was in the detention room. “She needs to have her lunch. You can’t punish her like this. She is still small!” my aunt told the teacher.

Suddenly, I saw my aunt and my teacher come into the detention class. The teacher called me and sent me out  after collecting my math book. I hugged my aunt and cried.

She consoled me and took me to have lunch. My aunt was quite angry with the teacher. “How can you punish a small child like this?” she asked without hesitation.

She even asked the teacher to remove the paper that was pinned to my back. She did so, because she was afraid that this incident might be reported to the Headmistress.

This happened in the 1940s. It is now 2015, but even today I recollect it with pain. I will never forget the humiliation I suffered that day with the paper pinned to my back. Nor will I ever forget the concern that my aunt had for me.