Jun 2, 2016

793. Ink on my pink face



India’s Sahara group chairman Subrata Roy ‘s face is covered in black ink as he arrives at the Supreme Court in New Delhi on March 4, 2014. Image: PRAKASH SINGH/AFP/Getty Images
We would have seen news articles about public throwing ink on politicians's faces. Arvind Kejriwal has been the target of ink attacks on more than one occasion. This tradition started in my childhood in my school.


We had this unholy tradition of throwing ink on white uniform shirts on the last day of every academic year. In school, I had a friend named Ershad. He studied with me from class 6 to class 10. 

On the last day of my class 6 exams, I sprayed blue bril ink on Ershad's shirt and ran away. After two months of summer holidays, I entered school on June 2, 1993 with my new set of uniforms.

I did not know that Ershad was waiting to take revenge with a full bottle of bril ink. As soon as I entered class, he poured the whole bottle on my shirt and started grinning.  It was a wednesday. I hated Wednesdays after that.

Today is June 2 too. And it has been 23 years since that incident took place. I am recording it in my blog because I know that varalaaru is romba mukkiyam.

Have you been inked during your school days?

Edit-1 : Sheetal who blogs at https://sheetalscribbles.wordpress.com/ narrates her experience here

I used to have one empty ink pen and one filled with ink in school. Both identical.  I also had a stupid habit of playing a prank on boys that I would splash ink on them with that empty pen. Once in a petty feud with a guy who sits in a nearby bench, I accidentally took the ink filled pen  and splashed it on his back (pure white shirt). He was looking elsewhere. My heart came out. There were three large blue blue patches on his shirt .He was also a strong guy.Two other guys saw this drama and threatened me. During interval, he realized that his shirt was a mess. He started asking everyone to hand over the culprit to him. My confidantes saved me. Till the end he never knew it was me. Whenever he used to wear that shirt my confidantes grinned at me. I just pretended as if nothing happened. Today if he reads this blog, he will know that it was me. It has been ten years now

Moral: Ball pens are always safer

- Chronicwriter

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