Pun Moments

We cherish our childhood for the innocence that it was filled with. Many of our fond childhood memories revolve around unintentional ill-timed remarks. Here are a few random incidents that come into my mind as I think of my school days.

Ant(i)onyms
We were in Class VIII. Our English teacher was dramatically reading out an excerpt from Julius Caesar when she caught a guy doodling on his textbook. Her classes were magic for those who loved the subject; the ones who mistook her pauses for effect, for a Cardiac arrest, were those who never enjoyed her classes. This guy was one of them.

‘*Thomas! Are you paying attention?’ Thomas almost jumped out of his skin dropping his text book, pencils and pencil box in the process. He stood up.

‘Isn’t this inappropriate?’ the teacher asked.

‘Ma’am…I am…that…woke late…sleepy…sorry Ma’am’, Thomas managed.

‘Say that in a proper sentence. Now, now, quick. We don’t have time to waste’

‘Er…I was sleepy…er..Ma’am…I am sorry’, the shy guy was almost blushing, what with 40 giggly faces turned in his direction.

‘Oh my God! Thomas! Be confident! Don’t be so conscious!’

At this, the class-clown *Varun, screamed, ‘Yes, Be unconscious!’

All of us, including the teacher were unconscious with laughter for a few minutes after that.

Prize-less
I was a Class IV student then and the results for the IGSC Scholarship All India Examination I had appeared for were out. We were given our certificates in the morning assembly at school. I was jumping up and down with joy when my father came back home in the evening.

‘What’s up? What’s making you jump little one?’ he smiled

‘IGSC All India Exams results are out Acha, I got the third position!’

‘Wow! Third position! Congrats!’ he shook my hand for a long while. ‘Show me your certificate’ he beamed with pride.

He read out proudly, ‘This is to certify that Miss Veena of Class IV has secured the Third Class in the All India…..’ he stopped midway and looked at me.

‘What?’ I asked, wide-eyed.

My father spent the next 30 minutes explaining to me the difference between ‘Position’ and ‘Class’. And I listened, shaking my head like one of those clay dolls, as my bubble burst, exploded rather. The background score was set by the nauseating giggles of my sister.

‘Verd’ Confusion
Our teacher was done with teaching us ‘Freedom’ by Rabindranath Tagore. *Saji Naul, the adored outlaw of our class let out a loud yawn. Our teacher, who reminded me a lot of Archana Puran Singh in KKHH, exclaimed, ‘Now, now Saji, feeling sleepy, are we? Tell the class about the poem we just learned’

‘Ma’am…please’ he said grinning ear to ear, smoothing his ruffled hair.

‘Ok then, answer this…What freedom does the poet wish for the country?’

‘Er…freedom from fear, …and…and…’

‘Freedom from the burden of the ages, bending your head, breaking your back, blinding your eyes to the beckoning call of the…call of the…what is it, say it?’ she urged

‘Umm…yes! From the call of the nature!’

‘Goodness gracious Saji!’ and she burst out laughing with the rest of the class. The beckoning call of the ‘future’ clearly held promises of more laughter!

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of people mentioned, also to save my own ass