The Open Dosa

Consuming the Ordinary Differently

The Slap

I’m writing this article not because I’m proud of having slapped someone, but because the tale of the slap provided great entertainment to many, and having hence been requested to write about it.

Have you ever slapped anyone so hard and square that you were shocked at your ability to slap? Have you ever felt the rush of anger that caused the slap? Have you ever had to face the consequences of the slap? I have experienced all three, and it was beautiful. Yes, even the consequences. However, there is another question I should ask. Have you ever been slapped? Fortunately or unfortunately, other than by little babies flopping their pudgy hands around, I haven’t. However stupid this may sound, I think one should experience a slap at least once to appreciate the one you bestow on someone else.

Movies and TV shows show a few good slaps from time to time. In How I Met Your Mother, Barney Stinson and Marshall Erikson have an epic slap bet in which Barney loses and inanely chooses five slaps across a longer period of time rather than getting over with all of them at once. Brilliant episodes had since then been created about Marshall’s enormous slaps that knock the living daylights out of Barney. My favourite slap in the series is probably the one in which Barney makes the four of them sit through a painful play to prove a point to Lily. After suffering for a while, Marshall gets up and bitch-slaps him right across his face and then says “That’s two”.

My all-time favourite slap in a movie is from the movie Premam, in which Nivin Pauly produces an insane slap that burns your cheek as you watch it. He is incidentally left-handed, which I think adds to the prowess of the slap. There is so much anger on his face when he hands out the slap that you are left in awe of him. Premam is a recent movie; after I watched it, I couldn’t help but remember the time I slapped someone.

I’m generally a calm person, and are very rarely provoked to the extent that would beget such an action. However, in school, I was once put in a situation that my anger got the best of me. Sitting in class one day, I had to listen to a guy loudly berating one of my best friends in class, who was also sitting next to me. I hung on for a little while; then right when I thought it had gone on for too long, got up, swung him around, and everything turned into slow motion. His face look startled, and his eyes widened, but I could still hear him ranting on and on. My jawline tightened and I clenched my fist once before opening my palm out firmly. I raised my hand way behind my shoulder, much like the back-lift my cricket coach trained me to take with the bat. His eyes then followed my hand all the way across my shoulder and to his cheek, where the sweet spot of my palm, the tightly aligned fingers and the area where it joins the palm, impacted his soft flesh. His eyes closed in shock. From the corner of my eye, I could see a few classmates cover their mouths with their hands in shock. The impact caused a sound so loud and sharp that it blotted out all other sounds in the room. It echoed off the walls and entered my ears. The sweet sound of the palm thrashing the cheek.

The impact of the slap caused the guy to fall back, stumble over a few chairs and tables, and finally land at the foot of the teacher’s table. There was silence all around.

It was broken by the light footsteps of our class teacher. She seemed surprised that the class was silent. A few were standing. A few couldn’t stand up, still recovering from what they had just witnessed. The class teacher then noticed a crumpled form on the floor, struggling to get up. He finally got up, caressing his left cheek; he saw her, stared for a minute, and mumbled, “Good morning ma’am”.

I was inevitably suspended for two days, but I enjoyed every second of it, replaying the beautiful scene again and again, smiling sadistically. Maybe I am a little proud of the slap.

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