Sathish was envisaging a nightmare when he received his progress card after the revision test. As usual, he had failed in maths, and he had failed in science too. "Thats the result of that damned cricket match the day before!" he regretted. Though he was the man of the match that day, he wasn't even a lean match for the science test. His father was in hard labour and worked in 12 hour shifts. His mother too, had to work to meet the expenses. Being the only son, Sathish was left with lot of free time. He was not particularly interested in maths, for, he did not understand it. Though he got new set of uniforms and new books every year, he was not spared if he did bad in studies. He did and was always beaten by his father. Just managed to be pushed to next class with a warning till then. Being afraid of his father's belt, he was just roaming idly, when an idea came to his mind. This was just a revision test and he did not let his parents know about this. So, there is no harm in not letting them know about the result either. As his parents do not know any other student of his class and none of them were near his place, there would be no problem, he thought. One issue remained though. The progress card had to be signed by his father and returned to the class teacher the next day. He took a long time before faking his father's sign in the card. And returned it promptly, the next day. He was heavy with guilt. Never had he done such a thing before. He was not in a position to disclose this to any of his friends too. As each day went, he was more and more restless. He decided to make amends to this, but didn't have the courage to admit his wrong doing. Finally, he came up with a resolution that he would work hard and pass the next time. "Then I can proudly take the progress card to my father!" he thought. As days started rolling by, he started listening and studying. He also requested a classmate, who was good in maths, to teach him during recess time. Little by little, he began to understand his nemesis too. The second revision tests came. He did reasonably better and for the first time, answered for around 60 marks in maths. The tests were over and after an eternal wait, the results came. he was praying all Gods, to pass this time. And it seemed that they relented. He passed and for the first time that year, he got a rank! 30th out of 42 students in the class. He shouted in ecstasy and jumped all along to home. Saw the progress card, number of times, and felt happy each time, not to see a red underline for any subject in that revision test, maths in particular. He was growing impatient and finally his parents returned. He took his progress card and walked upright to his dad. His dad received it, saw it first, wiped his eyes and saw again. "How dare you fake my sign?" his father shouted and started beating him.