* All characters in this story are 18 years or above
It was the annual scholar's day celebration in my institution. It was a traditional event in which all scholars and educators got together to celebrate the completed year and usher in the new academic season of higher learning. My parents had been invited but Father had to rejoin work tomorrow. He did not wish to go. Mother did not seem keen either.
Whenever parents could not come, it was tradition for an educator to accompany to us to the celebrations, to show that we were not alone. The celebrations were to be held in a large auditorium on the other side of the town. Shobha madam had volunteered to pick me up, I was told. I was flustered as well as excited. I had a tiny crush on Shobha madam, who taught us elocution, debate, poetry and English. She was tall, intelligent and beautiful with short hair that came down to her neck. She was always dressed elegantly in a saree and her diction was perfect. I did my best work in her lectures. She always gave me good marks and had kind things to say, much to the jealousy of my coursemates.
I fretted over my dress clothes as Mother assured me that I looked smart in my crisp, ironed shirt with my hair parted neatly to the right. She helped me pick up my clothes and get dressed. It was around five in the evening when Shobha madam reached our residence. She looked beautiful in a blue saree with floral patterns. She was wearing red lipstick and held a black handbag around her shoulder. Mother and Father bid me goodbye at the door. Shobha madam led me to her parked Maruti car. I got in beside her and put on the seatbelt. She drove out into the main road. The sun was setting in the distance, behind the rising hills.
"It's so beautiful, isn't it?" she said, indicating the glorious, orange coloured vista. I agreed with her. "Would you like some music?" she asked. I nodded. Classical western music filled the car.
"How is Reeta?" she asked of my mother.
"Mother is good," I said.
"She is enjoying her sabbatical?"
"Yes, ma'am"
My mother, Reeta, had taken a couple of years off from her job as an educator. Shobha madam used to work with her earlier. We drove in silence for a while before Shobha madam asked, "Rehant, do you have a girlfriend?"
I was nonplussed. Madam giggled. "Oh don't be so shy. A handsome boy like you must have a girlfriend."
I shook my head as I blushed furiously.
"I have to pick up Shormistha madam on the way. Do you mind if we stop at a nearby hotel? She is picking up a student from there."
I said I did not mind. Anything to spend a bit more time with her before the function.
"Do you know her?" madam asked.
"Yes, Shormistha ma'am teaches us advanced math."
"Is she strict?"
"Umm... a bit."
Shormistha madam had a reputation as a humorless, severe person who was liberal when it came to wielding the ruler on errant boys. She was tall and thin and always wore a saree to her lectures. She was not a classically beautiful woman. She had frizzy hair that was always tied up in a bun. She was a widow and her son was a senior scholar, in the arts section, a year ahead of me.
Shobha madam drove off the main road onto the highway. Away from the bustle of the town, the cars were few in number. The hotel was a nice, classy one, built like a resort in the hills. We drove along the winding roads until we reached the main parking area.
"Here," Shobha madam said, extending her hand.
I took her hand. It was soft and warm. We walked together into the lobby. To my surprise she walked to the lift and we went up to the third floor.
"Don't be worried," she said, as I looked at the clock on the wall of the corridor. "The function is such a bore, isn't it? It won't matter if we miss the beginning."
She walked to the end of a long corridor, with paintings on the walls. She stopped in front of room 312 and knocked.
"Shormistha?" she called out.
There was no reply. She took out a key card from her hand bag and beeped open the door.
It was a large room, with two large beds on either side with a passage in between, that lead to the bathroom. We were a simple middle class family and I had never stayed in such a nice hotel room before. Inside I saw another scholar, Saumerjeet, who was in a section above mine. He was smartly dressed in a instituition issue blazer. Standing in front of him and buttoning up his shirt was Shormistha madam, who was wearing a bottle green saree.
Saumerjeet bhaiyya was a particular favourite among the educators. He was as good in studies as he was in sports and extracurricular activities. He played tennis, swam, ran track and somehow found time to represent the institution in quizzing and speech competitions. Saumerjeet bhaiyya was also friends with Shormistha madam's son.
There was a gift hamper on one of the beds. Shobha madam led me to the bed and sat down with me standing in front of her. She opened a chocolate in one of the hampers and broke off a piece.
"Why don't you have one?" she said, raising it to my mouth.
Hesitantly I opened my mouth to receive the piece. Her fingers brushed against my lower lip and I shivered.
"Do you like it?"
I nodded.
"Does your mother feed you?"
"N-no."
"Mothers should feed their sons, don't you think?" she said, feeding me another piece. Her soft fingers touched my lips again.
