There are four questions of value in life... What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living "for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.
Srishti sat dazed , her wrist carefully cradling her pretty head. Her eyelids fluttered to stay focused but the man in front of her made it so hard. She gripped her pencil tighter, fighting the urge to look into his gorgeous brown eyes. Easier said than done, she chided her helpless heart.
'Class' There echoed his voice deep and smooth, like the most expensive velvet from the heavens. Srishti's heart sauntered dreamily at the way syllables rolled off his rosy lips. His baritone silenced the chattering students effortlessly, ' Unga neraya pethuku enna nyabagam irukum nu nenakaren..
I taught English here two years ago, inga sila per en class la irunthrukinga nu theriyum..
And yes, We have another brilliant set of Literature to read this year! ' He looked around, gathering everyone's attention.
'Well intha class attend panna ungaluku theva padrathellam.. Notes eduka notebook.. A pen to write with..
And the novels we'll be reading.. Namba vaasikra first book ellaruku nane vaangiten… and I'll need someone to help me pass it over..
Sasha , What about you? '
Srishti's eyes shot open and she found herself nodding even before she could process what was happening in front of her. Srishti was so bedazzled that she involuntarily smiled at him, making him smile back at her, quite guilelessly.
She slowly took small steps and reached his desk as he placed the stack of books on her extended hands. Srishti didn't dare to look up again and was pleasantly surprised at the thinness of books and the less number of copies. That's when she realized that it was Wilde's Picture of Dorian Grey. She soon realized that the class had scarcely twenty five students.
Of course, it was an Advanced Placement class and it was reasonable to have less number of students. But Srishti didn't expect the number of students to be this low. She took the last copy for herself and slowly sat on her desk giving her book a small caress.
And suddenly, the room felt so intimate with the number of students and Professor Adhiran looming just behind her.
Professor Adhiran's eyes fell on hers, lassoing her attention all to himself as he mouthed a thank you from where he stood. Srishti couldn't help smiling at him again. Timid and shy,
He continued with his introduction and Srishti couldn't help but give in to her conscience when it begged her to take another look at him. It was nearly impossible to take one's eyes off when they looked at this man, she thought.
Srishti sighed as she thought of how he was still the same, handsome and righteous man that she adored a couple of years ago. Professor Adhiran made the perfect muse for any artist, his sharp features, his curly brown hair and his buzzing brown eyes have the esteemed caliber of making anyone fall for him, effortlessly.
Not to mention his smile and the warmth it radiated everytime those lips partake in the sacred activity. Srishti bit her lips, eyes fluttering close when they fell on the lean muscles that moved beneath his shirt. Goodness, he wasn't meant to be a teacher, but the destroyer of self control, A gregariously glorious destroyer.
Srishti bit the insides of her cheeks hard, shame outlining her feminine features as she caught herself looking at the man in front of her. The dismissal bell rang soon enough, as if the universe was kind enough to get her out of her trance without making it obvious.
