Once in our class Mrs Bagga came and took a lecture of Geography. She was an exceptionally beautiful Sardarni. In the middle of the lecture she walked straight and delivered two tight slaps to a back bencher. Whether he made some suggestive gesture or casted an evil eye is still not known but the so called bad boy became like a wet cat after receiving the lesson on the cheek by her. Mrs Bagga, however was not a teacher whom the children feared.
The same boy got a similar lesson from Mr Bansal. This teacher walked up to the boy coolly, caught hold of his ear lobe, swung it forward and backward in a to and fro motion and loose handedly delivered two resounding slaps on his left cheek. The terror ran through the whole class. This was the only time I saw Mr Bansal beating a student. But he and his name were a synonym of terror in our school.
If one goes by the name, Mr Bansal does not instill fear. There has hardly been any dreadful army officer or a notorious person of such name in the history. In sharp contrast Mr Bansal could send a chill down one's spine. He was frail but very active . He walked like a robot and lectured as though everything was recorded in some chip in his brain. He had a pair of razor sharp and intelligent eyes. His English was fluent and flawless. The only word that he pronounced awkwardly was 'Substance'. He would over stretch 'a' and mix it with with a touch of 'n' sound through the nostrils. He appeared so perfect that I believed that the correct pronunciation must infact be 'substaaannce' instead of 'substance'. He taught us Physics and Photography. He had a thorough understanding of his subject. Most of the things taught by him are still fresh in my mind. In short despite being medium statured and thin, his personality inspired awe. He seldom smiled. Rather his smile was a news to the students. He was handsome inspite of a slightly dark complexion and one or two artificial teeth. His composure and nerves were as robust as steel. He did not possess even an ounce of extra fat on his body and was active like some battery operated machine. His bicycle was as nicely maintained as his perfectly creased clothes. He hardly felt any cold during the winter season. When it was extremely cold he just wore a half sleeved sweater. His shirt was never tugged inside his trousers. It was said that he provided private coaching at his home which immensely benefitted his students preparing for competitive examinations.
Although Mr Bansal was one of my favourite teachers, he was a bit short of perfection on personal account. Not for the purpose of slandering but only to give a true potrait of his personality I would add that he smoked in his photography lab while hiding his face by the doors of an almirah. Once I went to his lab at a wrong moment. It appeared as if he was sorting out something in the almirah. There was a change in his tone and after a quick and hidden puff he came to me near the door of the laboratory saying "Yes" very impressively. But the odour could not be hidden.
Now, why his slaps were so different from the slaps of the other teachers? May be because of his no nonsense attitude and the accumulated impression of several years upon the minds of the children.
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