Spelling errors in school, confidentiality errors in bank

What started as a laugh riot over the phrase “Saven Thursday six Harendra sixty” on a government school cheque has now spiralled into a two-in-one scandal — a crash course in bad English and an unexpected case study in how not to run a bank.

Sources have confirmed that the Rs 7,616 cheque from Government Senior Secondary School, Ronhat, which turned the Education Department of Himachal Pradesh into a national joke, was not even filled by the principal himself. It was written by a teacher, while the overworked principal, perhaps running on deadlines tighter than grammar rules, signed it after checking only the numerical amount. The words, brimming with spelling inventions that would give dictionaries a nervous breakdown, slipped through unchecked.

But if the school’s negligence provided the comedy, the bank’s role has added the real drama. Insiders revealed that an employee of the Himachal Pradesh State Cooperative Bank at Ronhat proudly shared a photo of the cheque on the bank’s official WhatsApp group.

Another employee then forwarded it to an informal group, and the rest, as they say, is viral history. In doing so, the bank managed to flout one of the Reserve Bank of India’s clearest rules: customer information, including account details and signatures, must remain confidential and cannot be shared without consent.

Deputy Director of Higher Education, Sirmaur, Dr Himender Chand Bali, while speaking to The Tribune, admitted that the Deputy Commissioner of Sirmaur had sought a report after the case snowballed in the media. “The principal explained that due to workload, he verified only the figures and missed the words. He also clarified that the cheque was written by a teacher and was circulated by bank employees. A preliminary report has been sought from the principal regarding the matter, which will probably be submitted by tomorrow. While the school is at fault for negligence, the bank’s breach of confidentiality is equally serious,” he said.

Meanwhile, sources disclosed that the Higher Education Department in Shimla has also stepped in, asking for not just a written report but even the name and mobile number of the principal — as if a phone call from the state capital might magically fix the spelling crisis.

What began as a rejected cheque has now rejected the credibility of two institutions at once: The Education Department for overlooking basics and the bank for breaching the very privacy it is sworn to protect. Together, they have turned a small clerical slip into a full-blown case study of systemic incompetence.

If nothing else, the episode proves one thing: in Himachal, even a cheque can bounce twice — once in English and again in accountability.