The 60% red flag

1. A sweet beginning

Before COVID, taking multiple engineering lectures was my day-to-day routine. I enjoyed this pre-Covid era, not just because I love teaching but also because of the number of interesting characters I met during that time.

You see, the journey becomes wonderous when you are surrounded by amazing people. And I was enjoying that journey beyond my imagination. Even though there was an 8 year age gap between me and my students, I was quick enough to catch up to their recent trends.

One of the perks of being a professor is that you get lots of treats, especially food. One fine afternoon, when I was solving doubts during the break,she came. With a little voice, just enough for it to be audible for me,she whispered, "Sir,I have something for you." She kept her tiffin box in front of me.I looked up. There was slight hesitation; her inability to make eye contact was proof of it. With a grin on my face, I thanked her and continued with doubt. She stood there as if she were expecting something, and then it hit me; she wanted me to try it then and there.

To play with her a little bit, I asked, "Do you also have doubt in Mechanics?" And then I started laughing. With a smile filled with confusion, she replied, "No, sir, please try it and give your review na.."

I asked my other students to wait for a while. And then I opened the round tiffin that was lying on the table. Just from the appearance, I could tell that it was some kind of sweet, something that I had not tried before.

"What is it?" I asked.
"Sir, try it first, please," she said eagerly.

I took a spoon full of it and tasted it. It was so damn yummy. I had instant regrets about not trying it sooner.
"Now tell me, what is it?. It's so delicious," I asked.
"Chhena Poda," she replied with a satisfactory smile.
Maybe the satisfaction was because she got the reaction she wanted from me.

"What's Chhena Poda?" I've never heard of or tried something like this before. The curiosity in me was at its peak.
"It's a cheese dessert from Odisha," she said, adding, "My mom bought it back from Village. I knew that you would love it.".

"But how?" I asked.
"What?" She mumbled.
"How did you know that I would like it?"
"You said it yourself. In one of your lectures,you said you like to eat sweets every day after dinner." She answered.
I was in shock that she remembered something that I said, which even I don't recall clearly.

I continued with Chhena Poda, as it was so difficult to resist.
After almost eating it half way,I looked at her and said, "It is delicious and obviously sweet.. just like you."
I said it in flow.
It was quite normal for me to talk with my students as if they were my friends. I consider them very close to my heart. But to my surprise, she started blushing. And it was way too much...enough to make her fair cheeks cherry red.

The other students also looked at her and started smiling. Well...that was a different smile. Definitely the one you don't want to see as a teacher. It's as if those smiling faces were teasing her more. The atmosphere turned different. That's when I took control of the situation and asked students to continue with their doubts.

Meanwhile, she closed the tiffin, put it in her cute small tiffin bag, and went towards class. But before entering, she turned back and looked directly into my eyes. 'Is it the same girl that was shy just a while ago?', a thought went past my mind.
I raised my eyebrows twice, asking her 'what', indirectly. She blushed again and, within a few seconds, disappeared into the crowd of students.

It felt quite different. The eye contact, the blushing part...all of it was hinting at something. I probably had an idea what it meant, but my brain was not ready to accept the obvious answer. It was morally wrong. Even though I said it without any wrong intention, her blushing made me think about it quite a lot that day.

A week passed by, and I eventually forgot about what happened. Not having lectures in her class during the week helped me in the process.

The next time we met, I saw no extraordinary reactions from her.
'Stupid me!', I was so wrong last time. It made me relax, and I no longer needed to hold back from teaching in my style.

In between the lecture, when I was searching for the red marker, I heard her voice.
"What are you searching for?"
"Have you seen the red marker? I was using it just a while back."
"It's okay, sir; black is also fine," she suggested to save my time.
"But red is my favourite," I insisted. And within a few seconds, I heard a burst of laughter across her bench. She, along with her friends (Priti and Seema), were laughing without a single hesitation. I looked at them, and that's when it hit me. She had worn a red top that day. I realised what I said and why I received that response. I hid my reactions. The last thing I wanted was for them to know that I understood the meaning behind their laughter.

With fake innocence on my face,I asked Priti (her best friend), "what is it?"
"Nothing Sir, she just cracked a joke", Priti replied while pointing at her.
And the girl in red was blushing again. My favourite red was now on her cheeks.

"What was the joke? Why don't you share it with everyone? Even we want to laugh. Mechanics is boring anyway.", I said.
"Nothing. " That's the only thing she said and kept looking down at her book. For the entire lecture she didn't look up and even I avoided seeing in her direction. Not that I was hesitating, I was just afraid of the redness to pass over onto my cheeks.

Our next encounter was directly after two weeks. The lecture was focused on students solving numerical problems in a given time. I would dictate a question in class and then give them 10 minutes to answer that question. I noticed that many students were talking once they were done with the solution; some preferred resting their heads on the bench, and I was perfectly fine with it. They completed the sum well before time, and hence they deserved little freedom.

When the lecture was only half an hour away from the end, I saw her looking down; she was quite focused. I moved quietly towards her to see which sum was able to make her lose her self- awareness. When I reached closer to her bench, she quickly threw something inside the bag that was kept on her lap. She was using her phone; it was obvious from her reaction. For some reason, it felt so wrong. I was not okay with it. I nodded my head in denial and looked down at her for answers. She looked up, and finally our eyes met...