My additional lectures with Professor Habib seemed like a
waste of time. They were the instruments of my personal destruction. I had
called Blessing and informed about this side project. She suggested me to stay
there for the week and she’d deal with the work. With that out of the way I had
good amount of time to concentrate on pointless mathematics lectures.
I tried going into it with optimism, thinking that maybe
it’d help me in some way. But the statistics she was teaching were nothing
special. She was transitioning from stats to geometry for the four lectures I
was in attendance. Except the formulae she threw out, the only other thing that
came off as special was that she was pretty involved with her subject. She was
a specialist with figures and numbers who was easy to approach.
Maybe, but not for me. Every evening I handed her the draft,
she’d observe it and say nothing. Not once did she appreciate the steps I was
taking, not that she seemed too fond of me in the first place. I was stuck in
the situation I didn’t want to, but I had given consent to be used like that.
After a brief self-recap of the past week, I looked up to
the black building I stood in front of. It was the address Professor had given
me to her home. I stood at the front gate, waiting for some kind of call or
even a text. Instead, I met a woman in maid’s outfit, offering me to guide
through the villa. I took up on the offer and clenched my bag nervously.
It was the last evening and I was done with the essay. ‘INTEGRATION
OF MATHEMATICS AND ITS NEED IN HUMAN CIVILIZATION’ was what I called it. I wanted
it to be shiny and catchy, something that can impress the professor in the
first go. The inclusion of Euler’s Identity and the Golden Ratio was bound to
get some kind of reaction out of her. And I was waiting for all of this to be
over so that I can go back to Pokhra to be with my girlfriend.
We were walking through a dark corridor when I started feeling
heat. It was hot inside. So much so that the farther we walked, the more I
wanted to shed my jacket. I was looking around, flapping my open jacket when my
eyes caught the graphics than ran on the roof. It was dimly lit spider’s web all
over our heads. It was all in red, that made my open my eyes wide to get a
better look at it. On further inspection, it was not just a web. What seemed
like a random interconnection of spider silk turned into cracks in the parched
earth, with small little holes illuminated all around them. It seemed something
out of post apocalyptic movie, and the image it highlighted was not the
prettiest.
The end of the corridor was in sight now, giving me a chance
to sigh in relief. I could see the red carpets and a huge staircase that was
placed in the middle of a dining room. After walking a little further, I saw
sofa sets and a fireplace on the right, and a bar with empty chairs on the
left. It seemed something out of a 70’s mob movie. For a second, I was
convinced Tony Montana was going to show up. But I was pleasantly surprised when
I caught a glimpse of Amaan in a white bathrobe walking down the stairs.
It was the first time I set my eyes on her face. And Boy,
what a face it was. A smooth white skin that formed her beautiful round face
and plump cheeks. Those hazel eyes, rose pink, rich lips, and a perfect little
nose completely complimented her curvaceous figure. Due to her being in an open
bathrobe, I was able to creep my vision into the exposed area of her chest, belly
and legs. She was a bit on the heavier side, and I could appreciate the body
which was not a stick. I had liked Priscilla for pretty much everything, but
her figure was one of the reasons. Same thing with Blessing, she is blessed
with soft skin and fat at every right place. But none of them came any closer
to the goddess who walked down the flight of stairs in white bra and panties,
covered with her white bathrobe. She really did seem like a queen.
It was a good while of gawking at my professor before I
realized my state and came back to my senses. I was dumbfounded when I laid
eyes on her. the way she looked, the way she talked, the way she greeted me. It
was all a blur in my eyes, because all I could do is commend god for making
this human being. I was so afraid to touch her due to fear of dirtying her. The
while aura emitting out of every pore of the skin mesmerised my brain and
senses to high heaven.
Amaan had to snap her fingers in my face to bring me back to
my senses. The visual stimulation was very high for me to function in a sane
manner. So, I decided to hand her my final essay and dash out of the front gate
to calm my bulleting pulse.
It was the last day of the torture. I had already called my
girlfriend about all the sex that we were going to have tonight. Granted I had
given her the time four hours from now, which meant three hours of essay
discussion with the professor and an hour of driving. But I thought I’d be
discussing all my research with a woman under the covers. The one I had seen numerous
times in the universities or lecture halls. The one who believed she could bump
my grade up. I didn’t know under all the conservative clothing of her beliefs
would be a wingless angel.
The golden hair fluttered as she continued to inspect me.
Her worrisome expressions seemed too costly to be spent on me. Her small hand
movements were reminiscent to fluttering of a hummingbird.
It was a splendid example of human beauty.
“I-I-I was her-here to hand you m-my notes.” I struggled to
get the sentence out of my mouth. But I was glad I did. Now all I had to do was
hand her my material and dash out of the building.
I fished my bag and pulled out a red file with good amount
of papers in it. I pushed it in her direction and let go. Then I immediately
turned around and ran through the red and black corridor I came from.
Oh god, why did I do that? what would she think about me?
Would she even be obliged to bump up my grade now?
All these thoughts consumed my mind as I dashed to the front
gate and stopped right next to it. I was huffing, trying to get all the air I
could to top up my lungs. I turned around and neither saw nor heard anyone
coming in my direction. It was a moment of relief for me and I turned the knob
sideways and stepped back in the bustling street.
But I had just set one foot out on the uneven concrete when
it hit me: why a professor had such power to make a change in my grade? Was she
bluffing? Did she even have that power? Was I being used?
I released my bag pack from my clutch and stuck in halfway
in the doorway. Then I completely step out into the brightly lit street. The
air I breathed here was refreshing. But I had no time to waste. I turned around
to face the door that was still slightly open. I looked for the intercom and
asked a few questions.
“Professor, were you using me the entire time? And if you
were, for what purpose? Was I too easy to manipulate? Huh? Do you even have the
power to boost up my grade?”
“One question at the time, dear,” I head professor’s voice
turned into a robot. It felt like she was talking through a carburetor. “I do
have power to do whatever I can with your grade. You see, I’m like a tree. On
the top of the ground, the trunk, that’s me-The professor. But the strength of
a tree doesn’t depend on its trunk. It matters on its roots. And I, my dear,
have my roots running deep through this world. Especially our little
university.”
The ominous message that spat through the metallic filter
gave me chills in my bones. She didn’t talk for almost ten seconds before she
continued,” I don’t care about the grade, you can have it. But the disrespect
you have caused to me and my home, that is something you’d have to pay. The
same woman who fetched you from the gate is coming back to fetch you, once
again. Please make sure you follow her guidance and meet me in the main hall.
I’ll be waiting.”
I heard a beep and the line on the other side went static. I
let go of the ‘SPEAK’ button and stood still for a second to register the
threat she had imposed on me. Her roots ran though the world? That’s
ridiculous!
I stood in the doorway and waited for the maid in question. But
I didn’t have to. I could just pull out my bag and go to Pokhra three hours
early. The grades weren’t that bad in the first place. So why did I wait? I
could be ignorant and be on my way. But if there was a tiny sliver of chance
that Amaan had more power than she let us see, I wanted to see it. I wanted to
be safe from it. I wanted to do it… for me.
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