HEADMASTER
Palagummi Padmaraju (1915-1983)
(Padmaraju won second prize for his story "Storm" in an international short story competition, run by New
York Herald Tribune in 1952)
"Headmaster expired".
Captain Rao read the telegram. He stood still for a while, preoccupied. His wife looked at him with knitted
eyebrows. She bent forward to read the telegram in his hand.
"Who is this headmaster?"
"Our headmaster."
She shrugged, left his kerchief and purse on the table, and left the room. Rao stood still preoccupied. His
eyes became misty with old memories.
***
The sand dunes cut the river Godavari across. From the top of the sand dune, the river looked very weak
and pathetic, as if crawling to the end. But once one reached the other side of the dune, she looked more
lively and energetic.
In the river, the headmaster would stand, doing his daily morning "surya namaskaram" . Rao was Subba
Rao in those days, and his friends, Krishnaiah, Ramanatham, Sambu and Ravi would swim in the river for
about a furlong and go to the other side. There were lots of cucumber creepers on the other side. They
hid small packets of chili powder and salt under the creepers. They would mash the cucumbers with their
bare hands and eat with chili powder and salt. From the seeds, which they had spilled while eating,
sprouted many more creepers all along the shore. By the time they swam back, the headmaster would
have finished his surya namaskaram.
"Hello, boys! What are the residents of Kishkindha up to today? Did they bring down the cucumbers or the
melons?" he asked one morning. The boys were taken aback; they never guessed that he knew about
their pranks.
"Actually, sir, we were practicing swimming," muttered Ramanatham.
"Look here, Satya Harsishchandra ! I agree swimming practice is good for you, but if the owner of the
groove catches you stealing his cucumbers, he might break your legs and you won't be able to practice
swimming any more."
His humor was very subtle, not stabbing. He would speak softly, emphasizing every word leisurely and
mildly.
***
"Hello, Captain Rao? What is wrong with you? You are talking very softly!" It was Captain Reddy on the
telephone. Rao smiled to himself. He was imitating the headmaster unconsciously.
***
In a school play, Rao played the role of Yudhishtira imitating the headmaster's mannerisms and speech. All
the teachers and friends complimented him on the job. The headmaster looked at him with smiling eyes
and said, "Subbulu! Finally, you made me Dharmaraja! He was a lousy bastard!" Headmaster was the only
person who called him Subbulu.
"Reddy! Can you drop in on your way to the airport? I wish to join you."
"What is the matter?"
"I will tell you later."
Captain Rao returned the telephone to the cradle. He entered the dining room for breakfast. He sat down,
sipping orange juice, and still looking vague. His wife, Kamala, threw a suspicious look at him. Both of them
were not on speaking terms for the past one month. There was not any fight or argument. In fact, there
were no clear-cut accusations either. But Rao knew very well why Kamala was angry and why she shut the
bedroom doors on him.
***
That day, she came to the airport, as usual, to pick him up. She always made it a point, to pick him up after
his flight duties. She never came, after that day. He knew that she wouldn’t come anymore.
On that day, there was a constant drizzle and wind. He couldn’t see her in the pitch dark night, waiting for
him. He did not expect her that day. In fact, she was farthest from his mind. Ms. Usha was hanging on to his
neck, trying to go down the staircase of the aircraft. It was very uncomfortable on the narrow stairs, he was
trying to help her get down, holding her at the waist. Usha felt very giddy as soon as her feet touched the
ground (really!). He held tightly to stop her from falling. He helped her into the pick up van, and climbed
into the van to go with her. It was then, that he saw Kamala standing in the rain, under a small umbrella,
under one of the wings of the aircraft! It was well past midnight when he reached home, after admitting
Usha in the hospital.
Kamala locked herself in the bedroom.
A warm welcome indeed, his wife had given him, after he arrived home, bone tired, exhausted, traumatic,
after a brush with death! He tossed and turned on the lounge chair in the living room that entire night. He
felt very hurt and indignant at the silent accusation, defending his soul and actions, which were pure as
driven snow! Is it fair, he thought, that his wife should suspect him, just because he held a colleague, who
was shivering with fright, that too, and whom he treated like his very own sister! (Oh yeah! You held her
tender waist, with a pressure slightly more than needed. When she put her arms around your neck, her
breasts brushing against you, when her heart fluttered like a bird against your chest, when your fingers
caressed her spine, when her hair tickled on your neck, the peculiar pleasure that ran through your nerves
was just brotherly!)
He bit into the omelet and buttered toast, glancing at his wife. She was observing his absentmindedness
intently. She turned her eyes away, unable to bear the love in his eyes anymore.
"I need to go to Eluru, disembarking at Vijayawada."
She looked at him enquiringly.
"Our headmaster expired. His only son is in the United States. I am like a son to him. His wife will feel happy
if I went." He laughed at his own absurd statement. How can a wife be happy with the death of a husband?
Kamala did not laugh. She looked at him as if she had understood what he needed to say.
Rao hesitated for a while, and sipped his coffee.
"She doesn't have any kith and kin. Can you accompany me?"
Captain Reddy, waiting in the driveway, honked. Rao rose from his chair. Kamala came out of her room,
ready to go. He thought her silence meant her reluctance to join him. But, she came out, locked the house
behind him, and climbed into the van. Reddy gave a questioning look.
"The headmaster passed away. We need to go to Eluru."
The aircraft was full, no seats for them. He managed to get a place for Kamala in the airhostess' cabin.
Reddy was a cool pilot. He steadily lifted the aircraft, and on to the cotton soft clouds. Rao stood behind
him, watching. The aircraft looked like the center of the cloud. When it cut across the cloud cover, it sent a
funny shiver down the spine. The airhostess, Nayaki, lost her balance but controlled herself.
"I am sorry, I nearly spilled the tea on you," she apologized with a smile.
"I wouldn't mind it if it was only you spilling on to me, rather than the tea," Reddy joked.
Rao looked at Kamala. His look said, "She is like our sister". He laughed again at his absurd thoughts. He
squeezed in to sit beside Kamala.
He slipped into a reverie again.
The headmaster was teaching us English. It was an essay by Mahatma Gandhi titled 'All mankind is
brethren.' He said, ‘Look here, boys. Mahatma seems to be quite a naughty man. He talks only of the
males. He deliberately did not mention anything about ladies being our sisters. He must have seen many
boys like our Subbulu ' - that was me. I was quite a naughty boy in my high school days.
Kamala's eyes sparkled with a hidden smile. She strongly suspected that Rao said this story just to divert
her attention from the airhostess. Though she was partly right, once he started speaking, Rao forgot
everything about the airhostess and the conversation. His heart was filled with memories of the
headmaster and his lips parted as he remembered the sweet smile of the headmaster. Kamala gave a
sidelong glance at the smile.
The second hostess too lost her balance and gave an arrogant smile. Her smile seemed to carry the
emptiness one feels in the pit of the stomach, when suddenly lost the footing. She could not guess whether
Rao noticed the airhostess or not.
Suddenly Rao resumed talking.
Air is not like the terra firma. We are used to walk on the firm ground, but flying in the air is always an
unpredictable, novel experience, however well trained one is. Air carries the aircraft, most of the time. But
some times, it lets go, like an adult who throws up a child in the air playfully and catches. At those times,
only people who trust the air don't panic. Some pilots do not develop that kind of trust in the air, even after
many years of service. On every flight, they consider air as an enemy that needs to be vanquished.
Captain Rungta was an experienced pilot. He was also a very brave man.
But, on that day, he seemed to have lost his mind. That stormy night when Kamala came to receive him at
the airport! All of them were nearly killed that night. Captain Rungta was the chief pilot and Rao was the co-
pilot. The left side engine was totally damaged. The wind and storm were tossing the aircraft around as if it
was a mere toy. Captain Rungta did the unthinkable. He jumped into an egoistic clash with the storm. The
aircraft looked puny and powerless to face the nature's fury. The aircraft was spinning like a paper boat.
Rao warned Captain Rungta. Rungta yelled back with a gruff "shut up!" Rao was furious. There were
about eighty people on the flight who could have died due to Rungta's stupidity. Airport was yet a half-mile
away. The aircraft steadily started losing height. The small hill ahead the airport, with a glowing red light on
the top of it, was approaching them with alarming speed.
"Lift her, lift her" shouted Rao in panic.
Airhostess Usha was screaming in fear and frenzy. In the next two minutes, they would hit the hilltop and
crash. Rao lifted his arm and gave a resounding whack on Captain Rungta's neck. Rungta slumped in his
seat. Rao pushed him aside and took over the controls. He gave a full throttle and lifted the aircraft. They
just crossed the red light by a hair’s width. Then he balanced the aircraft steadily in the air. They were
almost out of the ruin’s way. He made a circular move in the air and slowly landed the aircraft. When,
finally, the aircraft came to a halt on the ground, he realized he was swathed in sweat. Usha was clinging
on to him and shouting hysterically. He had to take her to the hospital and, only after she was sedated,
she let him go.
Rao finished the story.
"The rules and regulations on the ground cannot be taken into consideration while in the air sometimes. I
went against the rules when I overpowered Rungta and physically injured him. If I had followed the rules,
even when he was prepared to kill all the passengers with his foolishness, I would just standby and watch. I
disregarded the rules because I wanted to save those passengers. Just obeying my instincts is a strong
part of my character. Right from my childhood, I caused problems to all those around me with my impulsive
nature. On the aircraft, it is a different world altogether. I am the king there. I never make a mistake. Back
on the ground, all I am doing seem to be mistakes."
He ignored her, on that day, and ran to the hospital with Usha; and today, he is trying to justify his actions,
thought Kamala. He was not exactly apologizing, but rather saying that, since he had saved so many lives
that night, he has a right to do just what he wants, she thought foolishly. Rao gave her an understanding
smile. He remembered suddenly, what the headmaster had said once, "A woman never trusts another
woman, and more so, if the woman happens to be close to her husband and, of course, it is the husband
whom she trusts the least."
Rao completed the rest of the story.
Usha fell asleep on the bed at the hospital. Rao went to the hotel. He sat in his room and wrote a letter to
the authorities, explaining his breach of discipline. He mentioned that he hit Captain Rungta and took the
controls of the aircraft into his hand. He mentioned that he was willing to accept any punishment given to
him. He apologized to Captain Rungta for his behavior.
Captain Rungta stayed in the same hotel, four rooms away. Rao went to his room and knocked on his
door. No reply. He glanced at his watch. It was 2:00 a.m. He changed his mind and turned to go, when he
heard a gruff, "come in". The voice sounded heavy with alcohol. Rao entered the room.
"Good evening, my hero!"
The voice was in no way taunting. Rungta glared at him through his blood red eyes for a while. Rao could
not fathom his state of mind. He seemed to be drunk but still in control of his senses. Rao smiled and gave
him the letter of apology. Rungta read the letter. He turned away to look at the lamp for a while. Then
suddenly he tore up the letter into pieces and threw them into the waste basket. He again glared at Rao,
blankly. Then, he smiled sadly!
"Rao, can I get you something to drink? Or, are you too tired?"
Rao sat down in a chair, ready to serve the drinks.
"No, no! You are my guest"
Rungta poured the whisky into two glasses.
"Cheers", Rungta emptied his glass.
Rao sat silently. He was uncomfortable. Rungta suddenly said, with his eyes shining,
"Rao, how could you do it, so easily? You saved the aircraft worth nearly eighty lakhs of rupees. More than
that, you saved the lives of eighty people, which are priceless. To top it, now you write a letter apologizing
for your breach of discipline. Oh yes, the blow you gave me on the neck! My neck is all swollen. It will
probably hurt more tomorrow! I deserve it, of course. I don't know what had happened to me. I seemed to
have gone out of my mind. Somehow, the red lamp was not in my view at all. I thought it was just a matter
of time before we all died. My ego sprung up out of nowhere! I got terribly confused. Then you took over. I
fell down when you hit me. I got up burning with rage, to push you away from the controls. The aircraft that
was losing height rapidly suddenly went up and crossed the killer red lamp. How deftly you controlled an
aircraft that was running on a single engine! Your supreme confidence! You turned the aircraft around as
if it were a mere bird. Then you landed it gently. I was staring at you. Your eyes, the concentration in
them! Then I understood. You hit me not because you hated me or you were jealous of me. You hit me
because you had no other choice at that time. I never knew you could take over the control of a hopeless
situation so easily. I always had a very low opinion of you. I assumed you were an irresponsible playboy,
joking around with people. Today I know that, behind the happy-go-lucky exterior, lurks a determined,
confident professional!"
Rao felt terribly embarrassed at the direct admiration and praise. He could not get himself to look at
Rungta. He suddenly caught his reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. It looked strange! It suddenly
turned into the headmaster's face! He was amazed to find the same eyes, looking innocent with all the
wisdom behind them, the same smile. Suddenly, he realized that the headmaster became a part of himself.
He knew he could never be the same person as the headmaster was. The headmaster would never get
into troubles, like he did, always. He would pull people out of troubles! When he himself got into many
troubles, it was the headmaster who pulled him out. On that night too, it was the headmaster who took the
control over, thought Rao.
"Rao, I am quitting. I can no longer be a pilot."
"Nonsense," protested Rao.
"Rao, I had been a pilot of fighter planes during many wars. I escaped many mortal dangers. I know very
well how calm and courageous a pilot must be, how he needs to keep his cool in the face of dangers. I lost
those qualities. If I feel wobbly when the aircraft is out of control, I can no longer be a pilot. Tomorrow I will
meet the chairman and request him to transfer me into the administrative section. If he refuses, I shall
resign."
Rao knew that Rungta spoke the truth. He sighed. Rungta got up on his bed.
"I am terribly sleepy, Rao. You can stay if you like and finish the drink. If you need, there is one more bottle
in the fridge. I never expected you to see tonight. I am so happy!"
Rungta fell asleep even before Rao finished saying "good night".
Kamala looked at him. His arm circled her waist. She gave a cautious look around. Both the airhostesses
seemed to be missing.
The aircraft started descending. "No seat belt here", Rao gripped her waist firmly.
"Those poor girls are missing their chances because of me", she said, tauntingly. But there was no malice
in her voice. She choked when the wheels touched the ground.
She felt secure and happy with his arms holding her.
When they were in the taxi en route to Eluru, Rao opened his dairy and showed it to her. Under the plastic
wrapper, there was a photograph, which she had never seen before.
"Who is this?"
"Our headmaster."
She looked at the picture for a long time.
The dead body was placed in the main hall. The headmaster's wife sat at his feet.
Janardana Rao and his daughter Nagamani sat a few feet away.
"Hello, Subba Rao", Janardana Rao recognized him. Nagamani looked at him and turned away. The
headmaster’s wife looked at him vacantly.
"Subba Rao, Surya Rao (headmaster's son) will not be here for three days, at least. We need to cremate
the body before it starts decaying. What do you think we should do?" asked Janardana Rao.
Rao went to the headmaster's wife.
"Madam, can I perform the last rites? I am like your own son," his voice choked.
She gave him a blank look. Finally she said, "alright, child!"
Janardana Rao got busy with the arrangements.
Rao refused to look at the headmaster's lifeless face. He firmly retained, in his mind, only the living, lively
face of his teacher.
As he walked along the streets, performing the last rites, he felt the streets calling to him, silently.
***
Rao remembered: The memories of the canal, the shore, the boats, the early morning when I stole
bananas and jaggary from the boats, swarmed my mind. Mother sent me to Kovvur to the high school, to
the headmaster. He and my father were childhood friends. Mother was very much worried about my
mischievous deeds.
I stayed in a small room next to the headmaster's house, with three other friends. I was at an age when
rebellion came naturally to me. I could not fathom the headmaster for the first few days. Grey hair,
moustache, gold framed glasses, he indeed looked academic. He would sit on the verandah till late at
nights, in his armchair, reading a book.
One day, I took the other boys to a late night show at the circus tent. The other boys were good as long as
they were on their own; they would never go for a late night circus show. They would not tell tales about
me to the headmaster either.
Next day, when we were swimming in Godavari, the headmaster asked, "Boys, how was the circus last
night?”
By the time, I gathered my wits to bluff my way out the headmaster had already left. I realized that I would
never be able to lie to him.
The cremation fire was glowing. Janardana Rao and he sat on the shore of the canal.
"I have never seen any one think so clearly and be so good at heart. I shifted to Eluru for Nagamani's
education. He too retired and settled here. His son went abroad. He would always ask me, ‘Dear sir!
Please, find a small house for my old woman and me. I can't afford high rents.’ I got him to stay in this
house. We would meet every day. Both of them liked Nagamani very much."
"Did Nagamani get married, sir?" Rao asked hesitantly.
Janardana Rao smiled. "Of course! She is of the same age as you are. It was he who saved you and her
after the big furor. I was hell bent upon ruining your future in those days. He diffused the whole situation.
Of course, it was good for my daughter too …"
***
Janardana Rao was a member of the Brahmo samaj. Their ancestors were from the courtesans’ caste. He
was a lawyer by profession and got all his sisters married. Nagamani was his eldest daughter. She was my
classmate. She was very proud of her father and spoke always of "her dad". He always quoted from
scriptures. Most of the high caste Hindus ridiculed him. Our Telugu teacher always joked about him.
Ramanatham and Sambu always walked behind the girls after school and teased them with comments.
"Who could be the father of the lawyer?"
"It is a bit difficult to tell. You would have to choose from many people!"
"Unfortunately, he wants to become a respectable man."
"No point in washing a rat's skin, it is forever black", they would sing.
Nagamani would be enraged and treated all of us like filth.
One day Telugu teacher said in the staff room, "All the great people in Mahabharata are of dubious
parentage! Like some respectable people in our town."
The headmaster just then entered the room, and said mildly, "Now, sir, do you think one knows surely who
one's father is? We have to go just by what our mothers say, isn't it? In any case, we are in no way
affected by who our father is, but by who we are, don't you think?"
One day in the evening, Janardana Rao was giving us a talk in the school. The headmaster invited him.
We all got angry with both of them. When he stood up to give his talk, we made a racket. He seemed to be
slightly irritated, but our headmaster looked calm. Janardana Rao unable to finish his talk, concluded as
early as he could.
The headmaster got up to say something. We were all waiting nervously.
He said without any emotion, "I wish to thank Mr. Janardana Rao on behalf of all of us. The thanks are not
for his talk. It is for his patience towards us. I also apologize to him, for I could not teach basic courtesy to
my students."
All the teachers sitting in the front looked uncomfortable. All of us understood how pained the headmaster
was with the emphasis he placed on each word. With our childhood irrationality, we held Janardana Rao
responsible for all the agony of the evening. To add to it, Nagamani abused us with strong words. I was
even more enraged. When I found her alone, I started taunting about her caste. She would turn red in the
face, but never complained to any of the teachers. Perhaps, she guessed correctly that none of the
teachers would support her. One fine day, she gave a sarcastic smile and quoted the proverb, Elephants
always ignore the barking dogs.
That day, the history class was the last class. History teacher was a pious, timid old man. We loved to
embarrass him with silly questions. We found his discomfort hilarious. That day, I made Sambu ask him
how many concubines Krishnadeva rayalu could have had.
Our history teacher turned red in the face, since he held Krishnadeva rayalu in high respect. Fortunately,
the bell rang and put him out of his misery. He rushed to leave the class. After going out he must have
remembered that the teacher who taught in the last hour should wait till all the girls in the class left. I did
not notice him standing outside the entrance. All the boys were in a stampede near the entrance. The girls
waited for all the boys to leave. At the end of the girls was Nagamani, standing. She gave her usual
sarcastic smile to me. I lost my temper. All the girls were moving out. In the end Nagamani and behind her
was. Suddenly, on an impulse, I grabbed her plaited hair in my hand and pulled her towards me. She
screamed in fright and fell over me. I held her waist and hugged her. I do not know why I did. All the girls
were screaming hysterically. The teacher came inside the class shouting, "you naughty boy! What are you
up to?"
I fled the scene. I ran without aim or direction along the river. I climbed the railway bridge and ran towards
Rajahmundry. Some train climbed the bridge behind me, started chasing me. I ran till I reached the next
station. My lungs were bursting with exertion. I slumped on the platform. I reached home by ten o'clock in
the night. I stood near the wall in the darkness. I heard Janardana Rao speaking to the headmaster.
"We have to teach such rowdies a stiff lesson. I will see to it that he is kicked out of the school for ever."
"Sure, sir! I will file a complaint to the higher office. I shall write a strong complaint, so that he cannot join
any other school. Let the history teacher come with the report, first" said the headmaster.
I felt weak in my legs and slumped down.
Janardana Rao left after a while. Headmaster saw him off at the gate, turned back to go in and noticed me.
I stood up facing him. He slapped me on the face. I fell down and could not get up again.
He came down to look into my face. He said, "Go inside and sleep". He paused again before going in, and
asked, "Have you eaten any food?"
I did not answer. He took me inside.
He called his wife and said, "I think this idiot has not had any food. Give him something to eat."
I wondered if she knew what I had done. I said I did not want any food.
Headmaster said, "Shut up and eat."
I ate my food and looked at him. He looked like God who could forgive all our sins. I finished the food and
came out. He was reading a book on his chair. I wanted to tell him something, but could gather neither my
wits nor courage.
He simply said, "Go to bed now."
I went inside my room. My roommates too did not bother to talk to me. I promptly went to bed. I could not
find sleep anyhow and my brain was teeming with absurd thoughts. I have to apologize to Nagamani. Of
course, I will be rusticated from the school. Then I will humiliate her again in the main street. Why did I do
it? What will happen to me now? What will mother say? I will commit suicide. The whole night dreams
haunted me.
Next day morning I did not go to the Godavari for my usual swim. I did not step out of my room. My
roommates still avoided me, as if I were a particularly harm full animal. I heard the history teacher talking
out side to the headmaster. "Idiots, these boys are! We have to punish him, sir. How dare he be in the
class, with so many students! I tell you, sir, he should be...."
I peeped through the crack in the door to see what was going on. History teacher wrote a three-page
report, which the headmaster was reading. He read the first page and merely turned the rest two pages.
"That is fine sir. I will report the incident to the higher authorities," he said in the end.
A week went by. Everyday evening Janardana Rao would come and ask about the status of the complaint.
"Come on, sir. How can we discipline the schoolchildren, if we don't punish the rascals? Why is there no
reply for your complaint?"
"Red tape, sir! Do you think any office works efficiently in our country? Most of the time they simply throw
our letters in the waste paper basket." headmaster would say.
"Please send them a reminder."
"Sure. I will do it right away. I will mark a copy to the D.E.O too!"
Every morning, the history teacher would come to make similar enquiries. Again, the same dialogue would
go on. I kept imagining what would happen next.
Headmaster would write a reminder. It would travel by the evening mail to Eluru. The D.E.O would read the
letter. He would call mother and tell her the matter. How upset she would be! If only the letter would not
reach Eluru! If the train meets with an accident near Nidadavolu! If only all the letters would catch fire! Or,
if the letter would be read by a clerk in the D.E.O's office, who was in a similar predicament in his younger
days! He would sympathize with me and throw the report in the rubbish.
I heard that Nagamani had not been coming to school for the past four days. I felt guilty.
After ten days, the history teacher came in the early morning, in a bad mood. "What is this I hear sir? It
seems you never sent that report to the higher authorities."
Headmaster fell silent for a minute.
"Hmm! Actually I am having second thoughts about sending the letter."
"What? How can you spare such undisciplined brats? How could you forgive him?"
"Come on, sir! Is he an enemy soldier to hate him so much? He is still a child!"
"What are you saying, sir? How will we train the children if we let him go?"
"Dear Sir, all those sages who performed strict penances and thought nothing beyond God's feet too ran
agog with desire when they saw an apsara. Why talk of a young inexperienced boy! I do not know about
you sir, but honestly, if a good-looking girl were passing by, I too feel extremely tempted to give a second
look! The fear of the society, my family, my own concepts of good and bad, all together pull me back. Or
else, I too would have hugged a girl, in my age. I do not, because I know that in that event, more than the
girl I will be in soup. He is a young boy; he did not have such discerning capacity. He made a small
mistake. Who knows how much he is repenting, now. If we leave him now, he will never do such a thing in
all his life. If we ruin his life by expelling him from the school, he may never get a chance to start afresh. His
repentance is his own punishment, I think."
Suddenly they both were in my room. I was slumped on the floor. I could not lift up my head with the weight
of guilt. Slowly both of them left.
That day evening the lawyer came as usual. After some routine discussions, he got up to go.
"Sir, I need to tell you something. I took my own decision in a small matter. I did not send the report to the
higher authorities," said the headmaster.
"But why?" said the lawyer.
I heard a roar in my ears; the anxiety and the pressure were too much to bear.
He was saying, "If you complain about me, I will have to resign from my job. In principle, I should have filed
that report and punished that boy. But somehow, I was not convinced about the wisdom of the action. I am
a teacher. When one of my students strays, my duty is to show him the right path, not ruin his life. If I had
sent a report about his misbehavior, he would have been expelled from the school, which of course he
deserves. But he will be totally out of control then. He might think he can do anything and get away with it.
He might even humiliate your daughter even more! You can get him arrested, but then unnecessary
rumors will start floating about your daughter too, which I thought is undesirable. But if you insist, I shall
send the report."
"That's fine but why did you not tell me for such a long time?"
"You were too enraged to think calmly."
After that, I lost track of their conversation.
I ran out of the house. I took a shortcut to reach the lawyer's house before him. I was breathless when I
reached their house. I knocked on their door.
His wife opened the door and asked, "Yes, who is it?"
"It's me, Subba Rao"
She gasped. She became stiff as if I were some murderer or a drunkard. Nagamani came out. "You!" she
said.
"I am very sorry Nagamani. I did something very wrong. I am not asking you to forgive me. I do not know
why I behaved so badly."
I did not notice the lawyer standing behind me. I turned back to go home and saw him. "Sir, I heard all that
you and headmaster were talking. I am sorry for what I have done. Even if you get me expelled, I will not
bother Nagamani any more. Do what you think is the best, sir".
I did not return home that night. I sat in the schoolyard. I slept there. From the next day, I attended school
as usual. Everybody seemed to have forgotten about the incident. I cleared my school leaving exams in
flying colors that year. I thought that is the best way to thank headmaster. I wanted him to have the
satisfaction of pulling a man from the brink of ruin.
After that whenever I faced a problem, I would think what the headmaster would have expected me to do.
He became my alter ego. When I make stupid mistakes, my alter ego lovingly forgives me and corrects me
gently.
***
He sat on the cot and told the entire story to Kamala. Nagamani was sleeping inside with her mother. In the
mild light of the dawn, all the birds were waking up the entire world. He looked at Kamala sleeping
peacefully, her head perched on his thigh. A smile played on her lips, a smile that knows all his faults, and
forgives, just like the headmaster's smile.
***
(The Telugu story, Acharya devo bhava [May teacher be god!], was published in the anthology
gaalivaana, (1984) by Palagummi Padmaraju.)
(Translated by Sharada, Australia.)