The school is a temple and the teachers are God-this is the faith in which students are brought up in India. But school-going children love the play ground most among all things in school. The love of children for playing surpasses everything. The running in the field, the merry-making and the physical activities on the ground make children fountains of joy. Many children forget many essential activities like eating, taking bath or even watching their favorite cartoon shows when they get to know the charm of the playground and the excitement of playing with their peers.

The main motivation for me to go school regularly was my love for the health education periods allotted in school. No sooner the bell for play-time rang, I would run into the field. I was never unreasonably absent in my school because my love for my play mates and play-time was such a pull. I was active in the playground and in the same manner I loved indoor games too.

But in class 7, for a traumatic period, I was robbed of that innocent joy so unmercifully that till today I remember those pangs.

I had a math teacher and we, his students, used to think him as the wisest and the most intelligent man on planet. Despite working for hours, we would miserably fail to work out some of the mensuration problems in our Math books. But he would instantly solve them and we would look at him in great awe and wonder. We were impressed by his deep knowledge.

One day he came with a chess set. He wanted us to learn the game. But I was smarter. I used to play chess from class 5 with my grandfather. After describing in detail about the movements of different pieces in a chess set he invited me to play a game. I played with the teacher and to my amazement I defeated him.  He could not believe what happened. He was my teacher and I was his student and that had given him a license that he would win in the game. And a deviation from this normal supposition silenced the class. He played with me once again and I could still retain my title. I mean my teacher was vanquished. This two wins did not make me feel happy rather they made me feel guilty. I felt as if I had committed a crime by defeating my teacher. My teacher praised me and packed up the set. I helped him in the pack up. He went away but most of my friends, now, turned their face away from me. They asked me that how I could become so heartless and arrogant and had the temerity to defeat one who is our teacher. Some of my friends reminded me the story of Ekalavya and went away leaving me alone. Their condemning words seared my heart and filled myself with a guilt feeling that often accompanies in post-masturbation ruminations. I saw my eyes were tearful.

Next day, my teacher called me to play chess. It was the play-time in the school. I wanted to run and play in the field with my friends. I did not like that indoor game of chess but I wanted to become like Ekalavya. So I killed my likes and sat with the teacher for the game. I sacrificed my play in the field for the teacher. For his fancy I sat with him for the game and I deliberately behaved foolish as much as I could and my teacher now chuckled and had a sigh of relief when my king was imprisoned. His face beamed with joy and mine too. He asked me, “Did you learn something?” Most respectfully, I answered, “Yes sir” and then I asked him, “Can I join with my friends in the ground?” He allowed me and in the ground a friend while kicking the football at me seconded, “We must respect our teachers.”  To which I noded.

In the evening I prayed with my sister……..Guru Brahma, Guru Vishnu, Guru deva Maheswara……Guru sakhsyat Param brahma……Tasmai shree Namoh Namaha.