F is for...(Our) Father, in Heaven

There was a huge church in the middle of our school - the highest in the country, we were told. In the pre-google era, we believed anything anyone told us. Beyond the chapel and the main praying area, there was a lodging for nuns and the principal of the school. As I told you, the church establishment was enormous.

Our classrooms and other recreational areas were all around this church. After keeping our bags in the classroom, me and my friends walked to the chapel to pray. We prayed in the school assembly also, followed by a prayer before lunch and then a prayer after all the classes got over. We prayed a lot back then.

Like every morning, Miss Camphor visited the chapel today as well, solely for religious purposes. We always got frowning looks from her. ‘These girls giggle and spoil my 5 minutes of peace before the screaming begins in the class. Why are they even here?’ I overheard her saying one day.

Her hair was graying, and she lived alone – you can’t expect anything but frustration from an old spinster like that. We were ruthless in our opinion of her, but so was she. She wore the same dress every day – a floral frock that ended at her knees with a leather belt at the waist. Legend had it – a boy made her furious in 1987 and she hit him hard with this belt. None of us ever dared to make her angry.

Today was my first day in class 5 and as my good fortune would have it, Miss Camphor walked into our room as our class teacher. The eerie silence was the type I had never experienced before from my class of 50 boys and girls. When she was scanning the class, her eyes stopped at me for more than a few seconds. She knew me as the giggling girl from the chapel, just as I knew her as the creepy teacher in the school.

‘There will be a monitor in this class which will be changed every two weeks. You will be the first one starting today,’ she said pointing at me.

My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t even know how to look at her, and now I will have to report to her on a daily basis? ‘Yes Ma’am,’ I heard myself saying.

‘You are her favorite already, remember not to get on her wrong side,’ Sakshi muttered from the row behind mine while a few boys chuckled in hushed tones.

After the fourth period got over, we joined our hands to say our prayers before eating our meals. Miss Camphor asked me to meet her outside the staff room before the break got over. ‘Yes Ma’am,’ I said shivering at the prospect of interacting with her.

‘Mom made baigan bharta for you,’ Shakti said passing her tiffin to me. I gave her whatever little was left in my tiffin. We finished our boxes in the first period itself, there was no fun in eating in the lunch break.

Normally I would eat my tiffin and then Shakti’s and then grab a bite from Sakshi’s. Not today. ‘Why did she choose me?’ Nobody could answer.

I passed the church building to get to the staff room. I recited ‘Our Father in Heaven’ all the way up there hoping that the fourth prayer of the day will help me. Several teachers were sitting in there sharing their tiffins with each other. Miss Camphor saw me and called me inside. She took out a Monitor’s badge from her cupboard and clipped it on my shirt and then started to walk away.

Nothing was said between us. Suddenly she turned around and asked me to wait. She brought her tiffin and offered me a piece of cake. ‘You finished your tiffin in the morning, you must be hungry now.’

‘Errr..Noo Ma’am..I..’

‘Take a piece and stop giggling in the chapel. Also, don’t mention the cake to your classmates,’ she smiled and walked away.

While walking back in disbelief of how I was just treated, I looked at the church. Standing there, for the first time in seven years of being in this school, I wanted to find out if it was indeed the tallest one in the country.