I am an educator and the never-ending torrent of news about leaked exams, faulty corrections, insecure websites along with the tragic consequences for the young students triggered memories of my younger years as a student. My father was a printing technologist who managed a renowned printing press in a South Indian city. Ours was a middle-class family, where education, integrity and hard work were considered important, non-negotiable, and we were taught there were no shortcuts. It was rare that my father travelled any distance beyond 500 kms once a year. The memory that leeched out relates to a time, perhaps in the mid seventies. There was no telephone at home and my father not returning from work beyond half an hour of his usual time, meant walking to the road every 10 minutes, and looking out for a silhouette that could be his. When he finally came home, a good two hours beyond his usual time, it was only my grandmother who could dare question him about his late return from work. His curt reply was that he was late because there was ‘urgent work with a deadline’ at the press. This recurred for the next few days, and his work hours stretched beyond the usual dinner time. My grandmother now demanded a `proper reason’, and he cut her off saying he was working hard because it was important for the press and that it was her problem if she thought that there were other distractions beyond caring for his family and the reputation of the press. He ventured to add that the overtime hours at the printing press were also forced by the erratic power supply during the day, and late evenings were better to ensure that there were no interruptions.After a few days, there was a dramatic announcement at dinner. My father said he would have to travel on work, and that he could not say when he would return except it might take anywhere between two weeks or up to a month. Further, he could not share the details of where he would be, etc, except for promising that he would send word across that he was well, and send a post card every third day till he returned. We were ordered to take him at his word that this was in the interest of preserving the `work integrity’ as well as ‘personal integrity’, all of which made us feel that we could not probe any further. Even my otherwise garrulous grandmother receded into silence when he uttered these words with emphasis. Also read: Beyond NEET: When India’s Examination System Becomes a Crisis of TrustThen the wait began, first to get a message either from one of his printer friends who happened to be the proud possessor of a telephone, or for the postman to bring the postcard. The postcards, and the telephone messages routed through the friends arrived intermittently as he had promised. My grandmother, who was sound in her geography of India, especially South India, would peer at the seal in the postcards with enhanced gravitas. She declared that my father should have travelled somewhere beyond 1,000 kms, from the dates on the postal seals and confessed that she did not recognise any of the place names, which were only partially legible in any case. So the anxiety compounded, mitigated somewhat by the circuitous telephone messages from his friends who declared on his behalf that he was well, and the postcards attesting to this fact, with his signature. Imagine therefore, our sense of relief tinged with excessive curiosity, mingled with fear, about how he would react to our questions, when we got the ‘final’ postcard, saying that he would be returning within the next four days and therefore we should not expect the next postcard.When he finally arrived, we were immediately ordered not to ask questions as he was tired and that he would tell us about his journey in the coming days, when he thought fit! The duration from the time of his late return from work to his return from his travels was over two months, and we had got used to broaching the subject of his work, with excessive caution. There were no ‘gifts’ for the family to make up for his unusual ‘work routine’, and we had to just wait for him to ‘open up’. This happened more than two weeks after his return, and by then we had given up all hopes of ever getting to know more about his ‘Integrity Mission’. Perhaps my mother knew, but she feigned total ignorance as well. By then, his old usual work hours came into place and there was no more anxious watch at the end of the road. The momentous occasion finally unravelled one evening over dinner. My father announced that he would tell us about his journey after dinner, and therein lay a tale, which seems apt enough to recount at this time for a larger audience.We learnt that the long ‘overtime hours of work’ were necessary because the question papers for Bihar University examinations were being printed in the press. This was a top secret operation, only the most trusted employees were in the press and each person involved in the job chain was overseen by another trusted employee. None except the top layered employees at the printing press knew of the whole operation, and those in the know had to treat it as TOP SECRET. Also read: India’s Exam Fraud Bubble: 148 Cases, One Conviction in 11 YearsOnce the question papers were printed, they were placed under lock and key in an iron trunk in the presence of officials from Bihar. They had come along with a ticket booked for my father who had to travel with them to Bihar. The others in the press were instructed not to talk about any aspect of this operation. My father himself did not know where he was being escorted, and said that he eventually reached Patna after a long journey that involved changing trains at multiple locations. The trunk travelled with my father and the officials along with security personnel and police. After having reached Patna, my father had to stay in a hotel room which had no telephone and there were always two people outside the room. The postcards he sent us, and the telephone calls he made were done with appropriate permission and in the presence of escorts. He was allowed to return back home after the exams were over and was given permission to talk about his travels two weeks after his return. As a family, we were instructed not to talk about this to anyone else.The drama around the entire operation and my father’s quiet but obvious pride at having played a role in preserving the integrity of the examination system was not lost on us as a family. My grandmother, however, was not convinced if it was all worth it and asked him if this would be repeated again. To our relief, he said that the concerned officials in Bihar were convinced about the integrity of the whole operation and had informed my father that if the question papers were printed again in the press, the journey to Bihar could be undertaken by a senior, trusted manager at the press, rather than the owner.I realise now that we never asked my father if the question papers were ever printed again as all that mattered to us was that we did not have to wait for the postcards.With Father’s Day here and the newspaper headlines continuing to berate the mess in the examination system that apparently nobody can be held responsible for except for a faceless messaging and social media platform, I cannot help but wonder what my father would have made of the current times we live in. In this digital age, security is double edged and privacy is perverse. What needs to be secure is compromised and the integrity of systems seems to belong to a bygone era.R. Sujatha is a researcher and educator.