It went on a blur. So it seemed. Because right now, I am still smoking and spewing hot lavas. I never wanted to spew rusty slimy vile preaching on any kid, no matter how depraved he becomes. Neither do I wish to send these kids to the judgment hall--the headmaster's office--the most dreaded place to be. They are just kids, victims of their own boredom and their own manufactured vulnerable world.
But yesterday, screw them all! All the sinking sand in a desert can devour them and vomit them off to the deepest sea where either Scylla or Charybdis could jauntily nibble on them. For days, I let go. For days, they thought they could do away with murder unscathed. But they screwed up on one important day--Mock NAT examination day, yes, but no, yesterday was more crucial than that. I had a terrible dysmenorrhea yesterday. And anyone who messes with me when my brain is water-logged and my hormones are all over the place loosening all my tightly capped acrid fumes, can better find a formidable rampart to shelter them. They can call their filthy rich parents and body guards. They can come in hordes and droves. They can kill me, right there and then. It's my word against their foul-smelling lies.
All teachers have been through a lot of distressing rounds with them. And each time, these kids would just shake the dust off and go on with another series of bouts later on. Perhaps my encounter with their viles yesterday might just be one that would soon be forgotten by these sons of their fathers, so to speak, it does not matter. So long as very soon they will face the judge.
They will wallow in the consequences, while I watch them grinding their teeth.
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