I COULD TOUCH THIS WAY, TOO... I COULD GIFT THIS WAY, TOO
Pic.: Asha D'Souza M ore than half of the class was empty, last evening and this morning. And, my blood was boiling inside. “How can they behave so insensitively,” I was seething, “even after repeatedly reminding them not to miss.” Many of them were serial offenders… They would do exactly what they wanted to… bunk or attend my class not as I wanted them to, not as their parents wanted them to… but, as they wanted to… But, then, my mind was unwilling to come to terms with this reality: “I am the one who they should listen to, not the other way around,” the argument went on in my mind, “They must be made to understand their mistake… If gentle words don’t enter their thick skin, I should use the harsh ones… Some shock-treatment!” So, all through my lectures, both last evening and this morning, I was boiling within… “I will call them today, and give them a piece of my mind,”… “I would make them sit extra and complete the work in ...