SS : To Sir, With Love (TEASeR- PG 8) 11/01 - Page 2

Originally posted by: Piaa_21

Sooo excited to read this story...I m sure it's going to be wonderful...I m waiting to read it further...maan a sir...geet a bold and confident student...dhamaka hone wala hai...

Geet infuriated maan soo much...but he didn't say a thing... surprised

Originally posted by: SHRADDHA2102

Gosh... This is such a sweet yet sexy story... Geet the highness of naughtiness... Love her, bechara maan hd to maintain his pations... It's rare to see teacher waiting for bell to ring...

Prologue ---

Nice Concept.

Maan is sir to geet who was bindhas, disobedient, mischievous ward that didn't budged to what her teacher was telling her. Maan was total pissed off of her for making fun of him. He was waiting for the bell to ring and finish this class. Poor maan kaisi students se pala pada hai. Lol.

Teaser maan has been appointed as class teacher for XI std. and his bad luck was it was the same class where geet is student. Poor maan. Now he has to jhelofy her for two years. It would be interesting to see how he was going to tame her.

Chapter 1

2003, April

The new session had started from the last week of the month March but for the XIthers, today was their first day of school.

Maan picked up the attendance sheet of STD XI A and the other books he needed and waited for the bell to ring.

He was nervous, very nervous actually. Until now, he had been teaching English to the plus two students but being their class teacher was a first.

He was not expecting this promotion. Yes, he had aimed that down the years he would get a class of his own but this was too quick.

It had been only a year since he had joined Motilal Nehru English School.

One morning he had come for PT meeting of eighth standard students when he had been summoned by the Principal in his office and had been appointed the role.

"Maan, that Neerja Ma'am has retired you are aware of the fact. And we have the problem of appointing the class teacher for the XIth STD Art section. Usually, we'd have gone for Rupa who takes History but after seeing the list of students who've opted for Art, she won't be able to handle them. We are looking for someone with a strong personality, someone who's able to keep them in line. I hope you understand what I'm trying to say."

"Yes, Sir."

"You have had a past record of dealing with students like them. So I'm hoping that it shouldn't be difficult for you."

He never got a chance to tell that the reason he had left the previous school was that he no longer wanted to be that kind of teacher. He was done doing social service, bringing the wayward students back to the right path. He'd received his lesson the last time and thus had no intention of reverting to his old social-worker ways.

A week later a circular was found pinned on the notice board of the staff room.

"The Year 2003-2004

Class teachers of STD XI

XI A MR.M.S KHURANA

XI B MS.KIRAN PAWAR

XI C MS.A.KAZMI

XI D MR.A.K MAZUMDAR "

The bell rang and with each step that took him to class XI, he felt his heart drop in his stomach. He had sworn not to go down this path ever again. On his way to the classroom, he met Abhishek Murmu Sir, the head of the Math Department.

"Good Morning Maan Sir! This time all the mischief makers have assembled in the A section. It's going to be hard taming them. Good luck!" He smiled despite being a little frightened and quickly started climbing the flight of stairs. A left turn and the first class was STD XI-A.

When he entered the class, at first most of them did not notice him. They were all too busy talking to each other. Then one by one the heads began turning and they started taking in his figure.

Keeping his things on the desk, a little unsure of himself, he waited for some kind of response. He had little idea as to how would he be received.

Slowly the students all stood up and greeted him.

With a wave of his hand, he asked them to take their seats.

The rumors buzzing in the staff room had led him to expect their heads to have horns and mouth to have fangs but they looked normal kids. As normal as seventeen years old can be. He had thought pranks would be pulled on him. A pail of water falling on him when he opens the door or chair with a broken leg would be waiting for him. Surprisingly and thankfully, the kids were not into that kind of fun pursuits.

He relaxed. It wasn't as bad as the teachers and principal had painted the picture to be.

They had all rose up in his respect, wasn't that a good start? Of course, it was.

He smiled to himself and then at the class. Fifty different faces were staring at him. Their eyes spoke of interest and curiosity. Fifty children from different backgrounds, cultures, each with their own story, with their share of achievements failures, grief; for the next two whole years, he was entrusted with their responsibility.The thought shook him from within. Would he able to be the kind of teacher he had envisioned to be?

Such thoughts were crossing his mind when a tall, slightly well-built boy entered into the room without a may I come in or good morning. He paused to look at the teacher.

"You are the class teacher? His low pitched voice reeked of disappointment. "I was so happy thinking we're going to get Rupa this time."

"Rupa Ma'am do you mean?"

He did not reply and went to sit on the first bench right under Maan's nose. Problem no 1. Maan noted in his head and moved to his desk ready to take attendance when a voice at the door sang out to him.

"May I cuminnn Sirrr?"

Maan Singh Khurana was blessed with a sharp memory and he hardly forgot voices. So when that sing-song manner greeting reached his ears, even before he looked up, he knew who must be standing at the door.

His spirit sank as he looked up to find her standing at the door. Problem No 2.

She had a pale skin set off by shiny mouse brown hair that had grown in the last few months and now reached her waist.

Last time he had seen her, she had been wearing her hair in a Chinese fashion, the straight fringe running across her forehead but now it seemed she had decided to stick to the recent norm, and thus left her hair open, the front of it cut in bangs.

That she was an attention seeker, he had known in their first meeting itself. Her late entry and the manner in which she wore her dress only contributed to cementing his impression of hers.

Her blouse was too tight, the overcoat she did not deem necessary to wear, her skirt was so short that it barely touched her knees and socks had been rolled below the ankles leaving her long legs bare and naked to the eye. To complete the effect, her lips and nails were both painted in red and the already large eyes were highlighted with kohl.

"Come in."

"Hellloo. We meet again, Sir. But I am not at all disappointed."

"Please go to your seat."

"Uh-oh let me first decide which is gonna be my seat."

She stood in the front of the class with her bag dangling from her arms, looking around and taking her time searching for a place.

After few minutes of contemplation, she walked to a bench situated in the center of the class. There was a boy sitting there. Dev. Dev Mishra. Maan knew him because everybody knew him. He was the topper of the school. The boy who had represented the school in quizzes and debates and had brought home a lot of trophies and cups.

Dev put his bag down and inched away making place for her and was rewarded with a smile from her.

"Geet Handa! You just made my day. I had no idea you were going to take up Arts. It's going to be a great year!" Problem No.1 told to Problem no 2, his voice flirtatious and deliberately loud.

Problem no 2 whose name he knew now, flicked back her hair and Maan thought that she was trying too hard and looked extremely ridiculous. Slowly she met the guy's eyes and smiling impudently at him spoke in a superior manner, "Aditya Juneja, just f off."

And Maan lost his cool seeing the whole exchange. He had resolved to not do anything that would ruin their first period of the first day of the school. But it was necessary to draw lines now itself.

"Students," he spoke out loud and all the heads turned to him.

"I am M.S. Khurana, your class teacher for the next two years and also your English teacher. I sincerely hope that we all get along with each other."

"Sirrr," she called out sitting in her place.

"Yes...Geet? Is that your name?"

"That's right I am Geet Handa."

"You want to ask something?"

"Yep. I wanna know your full name. What does M.S stand for?"

"Microsoft?" Juneja offered.

"Sorry to disappoint but M.S stands for Maan Singh. Maan Singh Khurana."

He moved to the blackboard and wrote his name on it in large bold letters.

He watched as she rolled his name on her tongue. Maan. Maan and then afterward adding Sir to it.

Below his name, he wrote the three textbook names that they had to study this year.

Novel- Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (African literature)

Poetry - The Golden Lyre

Storybook- An Anthology of Short Stories

Then facing the class, he announced, " Before beginning the class, you need to know certain rules that I expect all of my students to follow."

"Firstly, you use formal English in my class. Unfortunately, words like Yep, wanna, gonna, nopes, f off do not fall into this category."

As he said those words, he looked at the students in general and not at her but the other students turned in her direction as if saying that the rule was made especially for her.

"Secondly, you come to my class in full uniform. If you happen to leave your overcoat or tie or your house badge at home then I'd prefer you'd stay out of my class."

"Same goes with the books. I'm not lenient when it comes to people forgetting their books or assignments at home."

There was a general murmur in the class. A lot of disapproving glances were thrown his way while some of the disciplined students looked pleased with all the rules.

"Now, this one isn't a rule actually. I just want to tell you that you're no more kids of high school. You're almost adults now so it would be nice if you'd give up your immature activities. Like, today we saw two late entries in our class, each unique in their own way. While Aditya, I hope I've got your name right, chose to barge inside the room, Geet," he was speaking when she interrupted his speech.

"Yes, yes, you've got my name right."

"Geet sang to gain entry in the class. While one did not bother to ask for permission, the other assuming that she was still in kindergarten, went a little overboard."

"I would prefer you to enter and leave class in a more dignified and graceful manner."

He needed someone to show them- especially those two students, the right way to leave and enter the class.

Since Dev was the model student, he called him out.

"Dev Mishra, would you come and show the class how to enter and leave a class in a dignified manner?"

Dev sat very quietly in his seat.

"Dev?" Maan called out his name again.

He looked at his partner, then at his teacher, then without moving from his bench, he said, "I'm afraid Sir but I myself don't know the correct way."

Geet sent her teacher a winning smile.

"Anybody else who'd like to try?"

No hands raised and he began to feel depressed. And also humiliated. His method had failed. He had wanted to make it clear that he was the teacher and would not tolerate such kind of disrespectful and mocking behavior from the students. The first few minutes of joy he'd felt started fading away. He saw the future in front of his eyes, the tussle that he was going to face, and the war he would have to wage.

"Excuse me, Sir," a girl sitting in the second bench of the fourth row spoke up. She was tiny and thin and had a sweet looking round face and her sparrow brown eyes looked at him with respect and admiration. He felt hope rise in his chest.

"May I try?"

All the students were looking in her direction.

"Of course! What is your name?"

"Meera Rani."

She came out of her place, went to stand at the door. Her hands at her side and head straight on her shoulders, she asked in a formal but eloquent voice, "May I come in Sir?"

"Yes, Meera. Please come in."

She came to stand beside him and looked straight at Aditya and then at Geet and lastly, she met Dev's eyes. He looked away.

"Thank you, Meera," he sincerely expressed his gratitude and then to Aditya and Geet, he said, "I hope you got your first lesson."

He saw displeasure clearly floating in her eyes.

With this, he moved to his desk and proceeded to take the attendance.

There were many more such dis-pleasures to come her way. Last time he had not told her off because he was a substitute teacher and had no need of it.

But if she intended to continue to disturb his classes now when he was her class teacher, he wasn't going to let her go free.

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