Self-styled Editor-in-Chief, Sujit Sanyal, is not a backroom editor. He must make his presence felt. Out of compulsion. we have decided to give him a permanent space on the website, so that he can amuse himself and — we guess — amuse us.
A terylene shirt got stolen.
Someone from the dormitory has stolen it.
Since no one has owned up — and no one will — the dorm-in-charge has decided to punish us till someone owns up.
He is a toughie, somewhat demonic, and uses his position as a Prefect to instill discipline and honesty in his wards.
Every night after Night Prep we are made to stand out for an hour. No fidgeting, no talking.
All eighty of us feel sleepy, we doze off. The Prefect is keeping a strict watch on us. Anyone falling off is presented with a tight jhapad.
After the hour we are caned. Every night. We all rub our arses and hit the bed. Some cry. Our pains are drowned by the roars of tigers from the zoo near the school.
We hate the Prefect. We can’t stand the agony of waiting for an hour to be caned. The very thought kills us.
After a month the charade stops. For some reason the Prefect is expelled from the school. The school bakery has a record sale of puri tak.
Sixty years later, he has a doctor's chamber close to my house. Every time I drive out, I go past his sign board.
Still have a good mind to stop the car, walk into his chamber, and cane the shit out of him.