Struggling with the language of French,the protagonist's mother decides to hire a French tutor for her only daughter.
What happens when, 𝐴𝐴𝑌𝐴𝑇, an ordinary girl is mentally and sexually harassed by her male tutor? Is it her imagination? Or is...
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Tutor. No! This is not happening. Already I can't stand my teacher who teaches as if the world is about to halt, and only learning French can rescue us.
Now, this is double the torture for my poor little heart to bear. I have to hearken to those boring French lectures at school and then at tuition, again I am going to go through the same level of tiredness, drowsiness, signs of fatigue, exhaustion, and lethargy, including sleepiness, not once, but twice. Isn't this too much for a 17-year old to suffer?
No! I don't hate tuition. Tuitions are just an additional alternative to improve your educational skills. But here it's French. I am not only a miserable student but the nastiest student of French. Neither I relished studying French, nor Mr.Groth was savored teaching me. Certainly, it was a two-sided hate story, denuded of any loopholes.
If it would have been any other subject I would happily accept this new conversion in my life, without being reluctant. Considering my marks I am an almost topper student. But the French won't let me take the first position, robbing me of any happiness and ardent desires. My forbearance had given in. I can't just take this anymore. I need to find a panacea to my katzenjammer as soon as I can, without any further delay.
"Don't worry, all teachers aren't the alike, they are exceptions like Mr.Groth who teach with their wayward personality, for their own benefit not ours.", Haya spoke with a calming tone on her face. I was sitting with a sulked face since morning. She was constantly trying to hearten me. But, I sat tongue-tied, inarticulate, at a loss of words, unaffected by any worldly force.
"Look Aayat. You only said right that tuition is for the betterment of our studies. So of course you will come out as a much better student if you hire a French tutor." She said turning my face in her direction. Glancing at my dozed off face she knew what she had to do.
"Some teachers do teach agreeably. If all teachers would be as grumpy as Mr.Groth, would you get such good grades in other subjects?" She stated widening her eyes making me fall for her words instantly. I nodded at her statements like a 5-year old child.
"Every teacher has their different teaching method you see-"
"- But I get good grades in other subjects because I love to study them, explore them deeper and I also work hard day and night. It's always the interest and intellectual that gives us good grades" I interrupted her grumping, irritated by the rumination of French tutoring.
"Yea, you do and you have the capability, rightly so. But you know, like, it's not completely our efforts that give us desired results. Half the credit also goes to teachers. What if this tuition might solve your problem? Don't always think about the negative side yaar. Come on cheer up Aats." She verbalized with a convincing tone and I found myself wrapped in her arms finding solace from my problems. The whole class was staring at us. Her ever so soothing words did calm me down and got me emotional over the muse that Allah has blessed with such a decorous friend.
The erroneous sound of the bell cracked up my ears and I jolted off from the hug. All the students started pacing out banging the door with heavy chaos.
"Ah! It's break yayaya. Let's go have something." I reckoned to aggressively pull Haya out of her bench.
"Uffo! Have some sabr (patience). I know how foodie you are. That doesn't mean you will fracture my hand." She said sarcastically feigning innocence. We both giggled at the thought of fracturing hands.
Our school canteen provided one of the best Aloo Kachori and this was rare. School canteens are usually famous for samosas or vada pao. Not in my case though. The only noticeable and enjoyable thing about our school.
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Tired and exhausted by the school work, I decided to take a nap. Decluttering my stationery stuffs I collapsed on the bed, lying on my stomach.
Ah! That was the best one hour nap. The feeling you get after a tiresome day. I scrutinized the clock, It was 4pm. I dozed off at 3, that is basically an hour ago. I patted myself for predicting such an accurate duration and grinned like a cheshire cat on my brilliancy.
My throat withered, hankering for water, I took my veil, wrapped it around my shoulders, covering my protruding breasts and perambulated in vicinity of the kitchen. En route, taking a few steps forward, I halted at the sight.
A stiff rheumatic figure was chit-chatting with my parent. I slid back, heaving my presence out of my parent's sight. The blooming figure was the only visible thing to my naked eyes from that distance. Enchanting soma , beguiling phiz, finessed voice, aluminiferous eyes was all I could gawp at. Those candescent hazel brown eyes met mine's, and I flushed with euphoria. My heart pounded several times gazing those roomy eyes. I just drowned into them, fearless, undaunted, ingenuous of any external vigor.
"Aayat, where are you lost?" a familiar voice startled me. I looked again in that direction. The prepossessing figure vanished, and my eyes were vamoosed searching for it.
"Oh! By the way, we got a new tutor for you, Maaz Quraishi," Spoke Ammi with a satisfying smile on her face. She was gleaming thinking about my future, and it won't be wrong to say, so was I.
The name itself has the power to win anyone's heart, I was no different to fall for him at the first sight. But was this justifiable? He is much older to me, a non-mahram, Is it acceptable to have such feelings or was I digging a well for myself to get submerged in. This was, both, non-ethical, and, un-islamic. Maybe. Maybe not. Well, time will tell that. Right now I just wanted to dream of a merry future with my prince charming,
MAAZ QURAISHI! The name echoed in my head.
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