wooing Meera Rai

V | idiot(s)

V | idiot(s)

"We are going to read this poem once again and -"

Meera paused.

She looked at her students staring at her. Not with excitement, not with boredom, not with their sleepy disinterested looks.

They were staring at her in disbelief.

"What?" Meera walked forward to greet the 12th grade kids who were gawking at her. "Why are you guys scaring me?"

The Class Rep raised his hand, asking permission to speak. Meera nodded. He stood up, clearing his throat and hesitantly speaking on behalf of his class.

"Teach, you have taught this poem thrice in two days."

Meera was puzzled, looking at the rest of the students who nodded in agreement.

"I am sorry, have I?" Meera sighed, retreating back to the little levered podium built for the teaching staff and sat in her seat. "Why don't you guys take a break, catch with any other subjects. Consider this as your free period."

That made most of them yell and sigh in relief. They did not mind how their teacher was literally losing her mind, something she never did before. In fact, Meera Rai was their favourite teacher because she was both sharp, pretty and one of the best in her craft. She was well spoken, learned and got down to the level of students while teaching.

She was the one for whom poems were written for.

So she could easily express the poet's muse and the author's art for the students to study. Each lesson with her was interesting and fun. Even when the prose was boring, Meera did everything to keep her class lively and happy.

But she was not the same since the last week.

She did not attend school for the first couple of days, reached late to class when she did and seemed very tired and exhausted before the class even started. She also snapped at a student who simply yawned mid-class and kept to herself most of the time than be surrounded by a flock of students who loved talking to her.

Class 12A was Meera's favourite class that year. Mostly because she was their Class Teacher when they were in 11th Grade and they had all grown to be more than just students to her. Meera loved them, boys and girls alike, heard them, spoke to them and simply became the adult they could confide in.

Amongst the sixty students were a group of five close knit friends who hero-worshipped and adored their teacher and when they saw their teacher so distraught, they realised that something was wrong.

The Class Rep and his friends approached Meera who sat with her head in her hands, trying to get back to what she was before being thrown away.

"Teach, are you okay?"

Meera looked up at the clan of five timid yet brave students who circled around her chair. They were all concerned for her, she could tell with the way their eyes held concern.

However, she could not confide in them, she could not burden their tiny shoulders, she could not tell them the horrors of the real world - the one she painted so colorful and happy.

"I am fine, thank you for asking Shesh."

Meera smiled.

That was the first time she smiled since that night. It was hard lately to get up from bed, hard to do basic things, hard to breathe. But she had to keep living, despite all of the pain, she had to live on.

Meera had no clue why. Maybe she was too cowardly to take her own life. Or maybe she just wanted answers before shutting off.

She needed closure.