History was an enjoyable subject since
primary school. It was fun listening to the tales, stories and explanations by
those teachers. We listened with awe to the wonderful tales around the world.
In addition they added their opinions. That was what made History interesting.
We knew the stories of Emperor Ching, Hitler, Napoleon, Rasputin and many other
great people.
It was only in form 2 that my love for
History faded. It all came about because of the teacher. We were in the
afternoon; form 1 and 2 in the afternoon session, while the rest were in the
morning.
Imagine the heat and the tiredness in
the afternoon. Most of us hated the afternoon session and especially the
history class. Our dislike for the History lesson will be understood after my
explanation.
Mr. Manjit Singh had the usual method
of teaching; dull and monotonous, and we knew what to expect when he entered
the class. It was very regimented. He would enter the class and we would be
ready with the textbooks and notebooks on the desks. If we were slow in doing
this we would be scolded.
He would then ask us to turn to a
certain page in the textbook. His instructions were: underline whatever he read
with repetition, copy those important facts into the notebooks or exercise
books, and read the copied facts quietly. If we do not do so, we would be
punished.
I can still recall that particular
afternoon; a warm and humid one which we hated. The two rickety, wobbly and old
fans rattled and twirled slowly and had little effect on us. As usual we copied
and read the notes quietly.
The sound emitted from the two rickety
fans hynotised us and slowly we felt drowsy. Our eye lids closed slowly and we
started to sway and our heads nodded and we found it hard to concentrate. We
wanted to keep our eyes opened but it was terribly difficult.
Suddenly a voice boomed, “Mai Heng
Wah, Leong Choy Foong, Visvanathan, Chen Yoon Heng, Balbir Singh, Megat …”
The list went on and we were wide
awake. It was a terrible mistake to doze off in the class. He had practically
called out half the class.
He commanded, “Come to the front of
the class.”
One by one we slowly came out from our
seats, shocked and not knowing what to expect.
“Line up,” he ordered. “I told you to
read but you chose to sleep. So I have to punish you.”
We did not see him coming into the
class with a cane or any long ruler. We did not know how he was going to punish
us. We were expecting the worst.
“Come here,” he said.
Mai Heng Wah was the first. He stepped
in front of the teacher. Heng Wah looked at him nervously. Our teacher held his
knuckle and brought it down on his forehead.
Crack! It was loud and it sounded as
if Heng Wah had knocked his head onto a lamp post.
He let out a scream and cried. I bet
it was painful but how painful, I would only know when I received it. I was
totally lost in fear and shocked. One by one we stepped forward and each of us
received a blow on the forehead. I saw some of them supporting themselves by
holding onto the desks near them.
My turn came and I was almost in tears
even before receiving the punishment. The blow came and I reeled and cried out.
It was like being hit by a stone. It was painful and I let out a scream.
The others got theirs and all of us
wept; some openly and some quietly.
“Now, sit down and continue your
reading. The next time I shall double the punishment.”
We sat down and tried to continue
while the rest who escaped smiled and sniggered.
“Don’t laugh. Your turn may come. I’m
paying special attention on you.” He warned.
Everyone stopped; crying, sobbing,
weeping or sniggering. The whole class was silent except for the two rickety
fans that wobbled and swayed emitting the awful sound. They must be laughing at
us now.
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