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SPARE THE ROD....


It was caning day at school. We stood in neat rows in the school hall awaiting our turn. My report card carried the red mark. I was sure to be a victim of assault. The principal stood there flourishing the cane in her hand like a banner in a protest march. Trembling from head to foot, we walked one by one up to the stage. Panic seized me as the dreaded moment arrived. It rained down on me like strokes of lightening from a darkened sky. As the blows came down I vowed that a day would come ………
I met her thirty years later and was surprised to see that she had not relinquished her cane. She still held it in her hand, but a thicker one this time. Delicately balancing her whole body on it she moved towards me. She stared at me as if into nowhere…not recognizing, not realizing. I stood there for a moment,…. then walked away slowly…I turned back to have one last glimpse of her…She stood unmoving holding her walking stick irresolutely in her frail hand, looking beyond me into the emptiness of the darkened sky……….

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