Illegal Signatures and School Days

I'm good at forging signatures. I probably shouldn't divulge potentially harmful information such as this, but I trust you fellows not to let my secret out. I know you lot is a good bunch. Anyway, I'm quite good at it, and usually withing 20 to 30 minutes I can reproduce one good enough for petty crimes - the ones that are more or less harmless - of others. I often struggle to reproduce Sinhala signatures though - they are too complicated - and that is perhaps one reason among many why I sign in Sinhala. Not that anybody will ever think mine is worth reproducing, but still. English ones are a different matter though - I only have to keep practising the curves, and eventually I get it. The key is finding out where the lines start and where they end. Because it is near impossible to do a perfect impression starting a line from a different position to that of the original. If you study people's handwriting you will see that though they are vastly different and unique, they all carry some very common characteristics too. For instance, take the block letter F. There are three main ways in which someone would write it; one - draw the two horizontal lines from left to right, then the vertical line, usually from top to bottom. Two - draw the vertical first, then the horizontal lines. Three - draw the top horizontal line, then the vertical and at last the lower horizontal line. Almost all the time people write lines from left to right and top to bottom. Of course there are exceptions but generally above mentioned are the three ways in which F is written. So, if you can look at the handwriting and find out start and end points, then the rest is only a matter of practising the curves.

So, this skill of mine came in very handy while at school. I'm not sure if it still is the case, but back then if you were absent you were supposed to bring a latter from your parents the next day, stating the reason why you were absent. But of course there arise the need of being absent without your parents knowing due to a variety of very important reasons ranging from going out on a date (for the lack of a better term) with your girlfriend, going to the latest movie or just because you felt like. But there is a better chance of government media in paradise being unbiased than your parents writing a letter for something like that, so we had to do it for ourselves. And I was the go-to man when they needed to get it signed.

So one day, a Tuesday morning as I can remember, this dude comes to me early in the morning.

"Machan, sign this quickly please, I was absent yesterday"

I never ask many questions, so I just signed it and away went the happy fella to show it to one of the discipline masters before the school starts. He (the discipline master) read the letter and was like;

"Oh, your grandmother passed away? I'm sorry son, please accept my condolences. But is one day enough?"

"Uh... yes sir, she passed away on Saturday, so we had the funeral yesterday. So it's alright. Thank you sir"

Now, our school had a 'College Diary' in which you have all the pre-planned school activities were listed on the left hand side pages while the right hand side pages were blank. We were supposed to write all these letter on it - no letters on pieces of paper were accepted for any reason whatsoever - and that day too the letter was written on this diary of my friend. So, the discipline master casually turns the pages for no reason and finds out that the grandmother in question had died not once, but thrice.

We heard that the discipline master, who was a man with a good sense of humor, had a good laugh before punishing the poor dude. Oh and he too must be credited since he never said a word as to who actually signed it because had the word got out I would have been in deep shit because my father, at that time, was the assistant discipline master.

The teacher you dream of!

He was the teacher that every student dreams of having, but doesn't ever get in real life.
And to think that we actually had such a guy (sir, when I say guy, it means a whole lot of affection and respect, not a single bit of disrespect) as a teacher!

Let's call him U.
Not like you U, but U the letter. I don't really like to use u for you or cm for come (some people even use cum. ha!) but that's a totally different post which I might do a little later. So he's U.

U was our Mathematics teacher as well as the class teacher in our A/L class, back in 99/2000. I went to this Catholic school in Kandy which was run by a priest (a 'father') and everyone - and I mean everyone - hated the guy. Here, the use of guy means the complete opposite of what I had to say about U above. To our much delight, U hated him as much and better yet, didn't give a rat's ass about him or his authority. Do I need to say anymore why we loved him so much? Not everyone gets a teacher that cool.

Stories of U #1
His nick name was "Glacier". Know why? He was such a lazy ass and the usual word "ice" wasn't enough for him. He would read a newspaper or even doze off in the class if he didn't feel like teaching. But this doesn't mean he neglected his duties, no. U always finished the syllabus, he just was so relaxed and cool. And to elaborate the point, when he writes on the blackboard, he'd use his free hand to support the writing hand. Even holding his writing hand up to the blackboard was a pain for him. Is there any better name than Glacier?


Stories of U #2
Sometimes we had our lectures in laboratories. And in them, there are no single desks but long tables. So, while U was teaching we (we means my 'gang' who virtually used to run the class) would usually sit in two rows around the table, one facing him and one with our backs to him. And U didn't ever care. He didn't run after students bitching about us not studying, ever. His motto was I teach, learn if you want. We didn't complain. So while we were in the class, we'd eat, play some games or just have a chat and occasionally do some studies.

Our principal (let's call him P) had a habit of going around the blocks ones or twice a day, visiting the classrooms. So this day we were just having fun in the classroom, and U was also reading a newspaper or something.

Suddenly he calls us.
"Oi, poddak issarahata harenawa, anna ara miniha me paththata enawa"
(Guys, turn this way for a min, that jerk's coming this way)
"Sir?"
"P enawa, poddak issarahata harenawa"
(P is coming, turn this way)
"OK sir..."

So his majesty P arrives. And sees U and us doing nothing.
He goes,
"Sir, lamai mokuth karanne na wage neda?" A hint of sarcasm.
(Sir, students seems to be doing nothing?)
"Eka thamai father mamath me baluwe"
(I wondered the same thing, father)

P turned on his heels right there and went away.


Stories of U #3
My father was a teacher in my college. And to make things worst, he was also the assistant discipline master. Which means not only you have to watch your back whenever you do something out of line, but you also have to think about your old man's honour. Sucks, I tell you.

While in A/L class, we used to skip classes and go out of the school whenever we felt like. There were lot of things to do. A famous movie theatre was near the college, so it was always an option. We had a guy who's house was just five minutes from school and at his place there was a PC, a VHS, A VCD player (remember, this was a time when those items were still luxuries - not many people owned a PC back then) and even a pool table. It was a no brainer choosing between them and a couple of hours in class.

The security guard at the gate was cool with us as long as we bribed him with a couple of cigarettes. Only matter was we needed someone to watch our backs in case P decided to show up while we were attending to our business. That's where U came in. We usually informed him before going out.

"Sir, api poddak eliyata yanawa"
(Sir, we'll going out for a while)
"Oh OK sure" He didn't ever bothered to ask where.

And right when we turn to go, he calls me back.
"Oi me, ona thanaka yanawa, habai thatha awith ahuwoth nam mata karanna deyak na"
(Go wherever you want, but if you dad shows up, sorry son)
"Oh, OK sir..."

Stories of U #4
His exams were damn tough. And he knew we were helpless.
So, during the term tests, U never bothered to see if we copied and prevent it. He'd just sit there and read something, doze off or even go out to canteen to get something to eat.
So when we exchange our answer sheets and he sees us,

"Ha ha copy karala liyanawako puluwannam"
(Copy all you want and answer if you can)

We duly obliged.
And the highest marks of the class was something like 60.


Stories of U #5

In a holiday period, I think it was the August holidays, we went to the above mentioned movie theatre. The movie was an 'adults only', and we were 18, so I suppose things were cool. We sat in the balcony and some people behind us calls us. It was the Arts class' guys of our batch. And they were silently pointing to a corner of the hall. We slowly turned, and to our horror, there was U, coolly reading a newspaper until the movies starts.
He even waved at us.
We couldn't tell who was more embarrassed, but I guess it was us.

Long live sir!