It feels strange to come to such a quiet school, and even a little exciting. All the classrooms are empty, the long hallways deserted, the bell completely silent. Otto Sir is conducting the personality development course in the classroom at the back, near the staff room. There are forty-two children in his personality development class, Siddharth knows some of them, they all stand up when Otto Sir comes into the class.

Otto Sir talks to them about the importance of meditation and he shows them how to do it. On the second day Otto Sir asks them to begin the class with the meditation techniques he taught them yesterday.

‘Take off your sandals, shoes and socks. Leave them by the side of your desks.’ The children are only too happy to oblige. ‘Close your eyes,’ says Otto Sir, ‘and relax. Relax. Put your head on the desk if you want. Does not matter if you fall asleep. Relax. Take a deep breath and relax. Does not matter if you shout during your meditation. Some times children see lovely flowers and birds when meditating, they shout happily. Sometimes children see dragons, they also shout. Shout if you want, Otto Sir will not scold you, it is an important part of your personality development.’

Siddharth screws his eyes tight and tries to meditate. He thinks of a bright bird he can bring to his mind, the bird refuses to come. Siddharth screws his eyes tighter.

He starts, gets frightened when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

‘Shh, it is me, son,’ says Otto Sir. ‘You are having trouble meditating, I see. Come with me, shh, do not disturb the other children, walk softly, no, no, do not wear your shoes.’

Siddharth goes with Otto Sir to the staffroom where sheets of newspapers have been spread on the big table.

‘Here son,’ whispers Otto Sir, ‘you can lie down on the table and concentrate on your meditation.’

Siddharth is helped onto the table by Otto Sir and lies down, screwing his eyes tight once again, trying to bring the bird to his mind. Otto Sir goes to the classroom, closes that door and comes back.

‘Take off your shirt and pant, son. It will help you meditate. Here, turn around, sleep on your stomach, it is the best way to meditate.’

Siddharth feels hands on his buttocks, separating the cheeks, he moves.

‘Shh. You will disturb the other children. They are already meditating, you can ask them afterwards how easily they are developing their personalities. But you have to work harder. Now relax. Just relax.’

Siddharth feels something hot, hard, pressing into him; it is like, like, it’s like the handle of his cricket bat. But why is Otto Sir putting the cricket bat-handle . . .

Siddharth feels pain. Like an avalanche of poison-tipped arrows.

Siddharth shouts.

‘Shh. Over, over, over.’

Siddharth feels something sticky, squishy, through his haze of pain and semi-consciousness.

Siddharth feels Otto Sir wiping him with the paper, it scrapes.