The Teacher’s Pet

I was one among the 3 boys in the 30 students of that Degree class.

Being teased by women was mostly overcome by the envious comments from the other college mates studying Physics when we sat together for the Literature lectures. Many of our teachers were in their thirties except for the professors.

One day after the class, as one lady lecturer was leaving the class room, she winked at me to get outside. I closed my books and followed her to the entrance of the department.

She asked, “What time you go home today?”

“Oh today is half day, I will be going around 12”. I said.

“Ok then; on the way, come to my house. But don’t tell anyone” She said with a seductive smile.

She was pretty, even at her age, she was an adorable and smart woman compared to rest of the staff.  Every boy in that college watched her going home with the colorful nylon umbrella through which the sunlight shined on her face. When the striking students shout at the verandas to let the classes dismiss, she would just hold the end of her sari, wrap it around her waist and go outside the class. Then we can hear the sounds get muffled and turn to whispers. She would come back and restart her lecture without any trouble.

I had no idea why she wanted me to go to her house.

I adored her, respected her as my teacher, but I was not sure what to expect. She was married. At least as far as I knew, happily. I had seen her and husband together. He seemed nice. Never thought anything otherwise about them.

She had told me not to tell anyone. Why?

I would’ve consulted my class mates who claim to have more knowledge on women. I had none whatsoever. I did not even have a love affair in that age. I couldn’t tell anyone in my neighborhood about this. Then this whole incident would be a cause for bad reputation for her. She was a respected teacher. People knew her very well.

The next two hours of the lectures fell on deaf ears. I was worried.

I did not know why I worry about it. Might be because I did not know how to act.

It seemed like I was becoming the guilty one. I shouldn’t have said yes. It was my fault.

If I didn't go, I would be in equal distress too. I had to face her daily till I graduated. She could decide my scores; not only that, it could affect my entire career for that matter.

Then I thought, “If she is willing to do that on her own, and if both of us are going to keep it secret, what is the harm?”

Then I had pleasant thoughts about her. I dreamed like any boy at my age would’ve done.

She was a pretty woman. I was a "common" nerd. That was the opportunity of the life time.

My mind was telling me, “Idiot, don’t mess this up, go for it”

“Yes, I am going”, my voice was loud.

My class mate asked, “Where?”

“No I am going early, I have to buy some stuff for home” I said with caution.

“Ok, then we can go together to the shop, I am leaving at 12 too”, He said.

No; that was going to be tricky. I had to eliminate him from this equation.
“No I have to wait, it is another way. Thanks any way”, I said without any apparent embarrassment.

Finally the time did come.
 From the second floor classroom, I saw my teacher walking out of the college side gate with her orange brown Nylon umbrella; Sunlight shining on her golden brown hair, her georgette sari merges with her skin color.

I stood there as a voyeur, with my heart thumping faster, thinking about the secret endeavor I was forced to accomplish in the next 30 minutes…or longer.

I waited till the crowd from the morning classes left the hallways and the campus.

The September Sun was not harsh, as we had few rains by that time. I slowly unlocked my bike and rode through the gravel to the main road.

My mind was like a rough sea. Waves of thoughts churned it.
 "Am I doing a right thing?"
"My teacher is a married woman. I am still her student." "We may have at least 12 years age gap. What if her husband came to know about it?"
" How can I face my family afterwards?"
" I cannot live with her". "The society is not that broadminded." "She would lose her job, or would be an outcast in the small village where she lived".

"Should I go and say to her that it was all a mistake?. We should not have even thought about it."

"Whose mistake? Not mine, even though I had said yes; I was in a situation where she is my teacher, a person of authority. I shouldn’t be blamed right?"

"How can I blame her? She is the most loving person. Oh…"

Finally I reached her house.
 I got down from my bike, slowly raised the pad lock of the gate.

The Pomeranians in the dog house stated barking.
 "Oh no… Neighbors must be watching me getting in to the courtyard".
Roses and small cactuses adorned the sides of the walk way.
I put my bike on stand and wiped the sweat from my neck and forehead with the hand kerchief, combed my long hair from my sides, closed the chest button on the shirt.
 I slowly peaked through the long front windows.
 I could not hear anyone. The neighborhood was sleeping in the afternoon sun.

I pressed the calling bell. Somewhere an electronic bird chirped.
Then I waited another five seconds. Then one of the window curtains slowly moved.
 I saw her smiling face; with the same energy which can ignite any boy of my age.

“Just a moment, I will come; wait” she said.
Then the door opened.

A younger lady opened the door; “Please come inside, madam is changing”

I was slightly surprised.

"Does this maid know why I am here?"

Whatever, this was going to be more complicated than what I had planned in mind.
 So there going to be three people in this world who were going to know this incident.
 "How can I trust this maid? If she gets fired from the job, she is going to tell the entire world."

"What she might say? Would she exonerate me? Am I the only person ever?"

I felt ashamed to think that way; I felt ashamed to think disrespectfully about my teacher.
 Might be because I heard all the stories of fantasy from the friends or from the movies.
 I was not sure what would be the climax today.

The maid had escaped to the kitchen. There were no other sounds other than the wall clock.
 I thought initially I did not hear it, but then the sounds became louder and louder. My heart too, I felt like having a palpitation, then some warmth in my upper belly, I could feel that I am sweating under my arms badly. I felt sweat dripping down along my thighs.

"How is this going to start?"

"Will she ask me to say something? Or …."

I had no idea. I did not want to think like the situation in movies. This was not a movie. She was not going to follow what was done in the movies.

I just prayed to all gods I knew to help me overcome this misery.

“You must be getting impatient…” suddenly her seductive voice, came through the door curtains.
She was just wearing her home clothes, but still all the makeup from morning was still on the face.

“Did anyone know that you came?” She asked seriously.

“No madam, no one…” my voice stammered.

Now I was certain that she meant business. She was careful. I could trust her. I was sure that she must have taken adequate safeguards on the issue of her maid. She would silence the maid. This affair was air-tight. It relieved me somewhat.

“Come with me”, she ushered me out.

I was slightly perplexed. It was not the direction of her bedroom, but to the veranda.

I followed her. The Pomeranians started barking again.

“Shush…Rocky…Rooney…stop” She shouted at the dogs.

She walked down few steps wearing her rubber sandals and got into the shaded area of the garden. Then she turned, “Come, don’t worry; no one will bite you”, again with the seductive smile.

We were in an area where no one can spot us from outside and not even the maid.

"What is she going to do?" I was not sure. My heart still beating superfast.

Then she bent forwards and pulled a flower branch. Then again stood up.

“No; I have to get a knife” she said. “Wait, I will come” she quickly ran inside and reappeared with a kitchen knife.

She again bent down in the garden plants and cut the flower branch with the knife.

Smiling with a wink she said; “This is Heliconia metallica, this is for you; please don’t tell anyone that I gave this to you.”

Years after, whenever I see “the Shining Bird of Paradise” I mourn the lost paradise of my adolescent dreams.