Ah, the naivety of youth! We KHS students were a curious bunch, either blissfully ignorant of the consequences of our actions or possessed of an unshakeable belief that any tall tale would wash with the teachers.

Take Ashok , for instance. How on earth the most mischievous imp in the school ever found himself appointed class monitor remains a mystery to this very day. It was during his glorious reign that this particular incident unfolded.

Now, there was this whole kerfuffle happening outside the school gates – a road-widening project that involved burning some rather pungent organic material to create tar. Now, whether Ashok accidentally trod in this tarry mess or not, I can't say for certain. But what I do know is that he must have ended up removing his shoes and sauntering into class, barefoot and clutching his footwear.

It was a bright and early morning, the first week back after summer vacation, and only a handful of us early birds were present. The sight of the freshly painted white walls must have ignited Ashok's mischievous streak. Egged on by his cackling cohorts, he marched up to the lofty ceiling, shoes in hand, and proceeded to press them against the pristine surface, leaving a series of incriminating black prints. Satisfied with his handiwork, he sauntered back to his seat, whistling nonchalantly.

Of course, a crime of such magnitude couldn't remain shrouded in secrecy for long. In walks the teacher, and wouldn't you know it, her gaze falls upon the ghastly shoe impressions adorning the ceiling. The alarm was raised, and soon the entire faculty, blessed with a free period, found themselves gathered in our classroom, aghast at the sight. All eyes turned to Ashok, the monitor, for an explanation.

Ashok, bless his cheeky soul, remained utterly unflappable. "Beats me, Ma'am," he declared coolly. "But the other chaps are saying a ghost must have paid us a visit this morning!"

The teachers, needless to say, were utterly dumbfounded by this pronouncement. What transpired next escapes my memory, but one thing's for sure: the "ghost who walks" remains a legendary moment in KHS history, a testament to Ashok's audacity and our collective sense of schoolyard humor.