Children are innocent, we make them dwarfs with our cruelty.

I was an average student, that student who doesn't cross 900+ marks in board exams but also doesn't go below 800.

I was the same in my childhood, I wasn't a nerd, I enjoyed playing with my cousins outdoors and some indoor games. It was an integral part of the daily routine of 90s kids. However, I also paid attention to my studies like any normal kid.

However I wasn't crazy to get any position in the class. If all of us live to get a position and distinction then who will be the mediocre and average person?

We need a balance and mediocrity in every aspect of our lives, this was and is my thought about it.

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However, desi parents don't think this way, for them, you're a failure if you fail to secure first, second, or third position in studies

My parents weren't that strict though but I remember an incident when they proved that they had the germs of brown parents.

A teacher used to give me and my cousins home tuition every day in the evening. He was a friend of our elders and used to live nearby.

Once he was in our home in the morning hours, my elder cousins(who weren't studying anymore from him) and my father were also around. He just came for a chit-chat.

Out of no context, I heard my cousins and father asking me something.

My father said: should we give him your supari?

I was blank, they asked again, I had to say: please give. I have no issue.

They laughed.

I thought they were talking about Betel nuts(supari), which I used to eat a lot those days after purchasing it from a local shop.

I thought he was asking about my supari, but I didn't have any supari nor any money in my pocket.

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So obviously my father would himself give him supari. That's why I said go ahead (konsa meri jaib sy dy rhe hain, dy do, I said to myself)

Days passed and one day we got in trouble, me and my cousins. When our teacher came one evening to teach us, he beat us instead with his stick.

You know why?

Not because we didn't do our homework or learn our lessons.

But....

He saw us walking in the street after school time was over. We were just walking there and it was a quiet road free of any traffic. Mind it we weren't doing anything wrong, I don't recall it clearly, we were only 8 or 9 years old.

This explanation was also given by our teacher after beating us, I don't find it in my memory.

I only remember that we were all crying in the room and no one's parents came to rescue us

That day I realised my father wasn't talking about the supari that we eat.

Instead, he was talking about supari(giving money) that we give to another person for killing or beating anyone (Supari Dena: to give head money)

Usually, he would hit us on the head with our registers or copies if we made any blunder in our studies. He didn't mend his teaching style and chose violence.

^{Those are only idiots who think that they can teach and make any child learn anything by heart if they start beating them.}

^{They are only sowing a seed of hatred in the child's heart for them forever.}

^{I have heard about parents who go to their kid's school and ask their teachers to beat the shit out of their kids. Make him a human, make him intelligent, make him a gentleman, and bla bla bla..}

^{They forget to raise their kids nicely because they think their part was done after reproducing them. The irony is, actual work begins after that....}

Anyhow, cruelty only grew not in the sense of beating us, he never beat us violently, but he never taught us professionally either.

He would just come, talk nonsense or write something in his diary, have dinner, and leave.

We started praying for him to make a surprise holiday, but he never did.

We would fake to sleep during study hours but our parents would make sure that we reach the drawing room on time.

Our parents had forgotten us and threw us entirely at the mercy of our teacher.

One day our stars were revolving when my dear aunt came to live with us.

She was also a teacher in the school. We told her everything about the cruelty and unprofessional teaching style of that so-called friend/teacher.

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We told her that he hit us all. It enraged her, she wasn't married, if she was and had any kids maybe then her sympathies wouldn't be with us.

Fortunately, she was kind to us and asked us to bring out his (teacher's) stick.

We obeyed her.

She held that stick in her hands, took out her board marker, and wrote something on it in English.

She asked us to take that stick back and put it in front of the teacher or place it anywhere so that he could easily see it.

We obeyed her.

I don't know when he saw it, but he never hit us again and in fact, he left his job altogether.

That was the blessed day of our life, we were just his unpaid servants, huh.

Do you know what my aunt wrote on the stick?

She wrote:
Don't beat children, understood?

Moral: Don't eat supari, Don't take anyone's supari.