Squats, Slaps, and Sudden Enlightenment

An Unexpected Route to Mental Mastery

I finally discovered the reason for my exceptional intelligence.

It wasn’t books, it wasn’t talent, and it definitely wasn’t doing homework. Nope… it was Rao Sir and his delightfully medieval punishments.

You see, I was casually scrolling through social media when I stumbled upon a video about Superbrain Yoga.

Dramatic voiceover, mystical background music, and promises that sounded straight out of a superhero origin story:

‘Unlock your brain’s hidden potential! Supercharge memory, focus, and intelligence with this ancient technique!’

Intrigued, I watched. The ‘scientific’ steps were revealed:

Step 1: Hold your right earlobe with your left hand and your left earlobe with your right hand.

Step 2: Squat while inhaling. Stand up while exhaling. Repeat.

Wait a minute…

My neurons fired in recognition. This wasn’t some ancient, mystical yogic secret.

This was a punishment!

To understand this better, we must go back to my school days.

Flashback to school. Mathematics class. The kingdom of fear. And its ruler? Rao Sir.

Now, if you were fortunate enough to never cross paths with this man, let me paint a picture: Rao Sir was built like a coconut… tough on the outside, tougher on the inside, and entirely immune to teenage charm or forged parent signatures.

He had a deep, philosophical belief that math was best understood not with pencils and erasers… but with pain and public squats.

For repeat offenders like me, he had his own wellness program.

“Hold your ears and squat!” he’d thunder, his eyes gleaming with sadistic joy.

And I, the ever-consistent underperformer, would spring into action… clutching my earlobes and bobbing up and down like an overzealous backup dancer at a wedding.

Back then, punishments weren’t just expected; they were practically a subject in the school curriculum.

Detentions, kneeling in corridors, standing on benches, or… if you were really special… outside the classroom entirely.

It was a badge of honour among us backbenchers, and I, of course, wore mine with shameless pride.

While others diligently took notes, I perfected my craft of nonchalance, treating Rao Sir’s wrath like an everyday inconvenience… much like a power cut during cricket matches.

Of course, none of this would be complete without mentioning the bike.

Rao Sir’s arrival every morning was its own comedy special.

He’d cycle in with great determination… his stout frame perched on a seat clearly not built for ergonomics.

What made it spectacular was the pedalling technique: he had to shift his entire body from side to side, like he was negotiating with each pedal individually. It looked less like cycling and more like a full-body tug-of-war.

Many a morning, I fantasised about flattening his tires.

Not to escape the punishment, mind you… Just for the pure satisfaction of watching him huff and puff for once.
But alas, morality (and the fear of getting caught) always prevailed.

Rao Sir saw me as a perfect resource… his go-to guinea pig for punishment experiments.

I was the human prototype for his educational reform project in pain and squats. It was practically guaranteed that I hadn’t done my homework.

And of course, I had a signature move for the occasion: I’d stand up, rub the back of my head with my right hand, and say, “I forgot, Sir!”

The class chuckled. Rao Sir did not.

If you ever wondered how some kids become geniuses without opening a book, here’s the spoiler: it wasn’t talent or sincere studying. It was Rao Sir.

Because nothing says ‘brain training’ like humiliation and calf cramps.

Looking back now, I realise I was part of an elite neuroscience experiment long before it was cool.

While my classmates were prepping for exams, I was undergoing ancient yogic brain enhancement… under duress.

Turns out, all those squats actually worked.

• My problem-solving skills improved because I had to invent new excuses daily.
• My focus sharpened… I could tune out math lectures with monk-like discipline.
• My stress tolerance peaked… I could remain calm even as whiteboard dusters whizzed past my ear.

And once I saw that yoga video, it clicked. I leaned back, cracked my knuckles, and thought: if this is now a wellness trend, why didn’t I market it first?

I could’ve become a millionaire teaching overpriced Superbrain Workshops: “Just ₹999 per session—bring your own earlobes.”

While people today shell out big bucks for brain-enhancing seminars, I got my enlightenment for free. Daily. Often before lunch. Courtesy of a man who thought discipline and flexibility belonged in the same sentence.

Namaste, Master Rao.
You were truly a visionary in disguise… part sadist, part yogi, and full-time brain trainer.

And I? I emerged with better neural pathways, improved reflexes, and an expert level of creative excuse generation.

Truly, the enlightened path can be found in the most unexpected of squats.