19-06-2025, 05:58 AM
The corridor outside the Science Department reeked of cheap cologne and forbidden substances, a pungent cocktail that seemed to cling to Vishnu Patil's leather jacket despite the morning heat. He leaned against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips, as Pathan Khan scrolled through his phone with the casual disinterest of someone who knew his future required no academic credentials. The students flowing past gave them a wide berth, eyes averted – not from fear exactly, but from the instinctive recognition that these two operated by different rules than the rest of the university population.
"Got three new clients from the Engineering block," Vishnu muttered, flicking ash onto the polished floor. "First-years. Rich kids with daddy's money burning holes in their pockets."
Pathan's lips curled into a smirk, his thumbs still dancing across his phone screen. "How much did you charge them?"
"Double the usual. Told them it was premium quality, imported from Manali." Vishnu chuckled, the sound low and rough. "It's the same shit we always sell, but these idiots wouldn't know good ganja if it slapped them in the face."
"Smart business." Pathan finally looked up, dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Speaking of business, that video we took at Rajesh's party last month? The one with those two girls from Commerce?"
Vishnu straightened, suddenly interested. "What about it?"
"Uploaded it to our private channel yesterday. Already got twenty-five subscriptions." Pathan turned his phone to show Vishnu the screen. "Five thousand each. Not bad for one night's work."
Vishnu's eyes narrowed as he studied the numbers. "Did you blur their faces like I told you? Last thing we need is—"
"Relax, yaar. I'm not an amateur." Pathan swiped the screen, revealing a thumbnail of a video with strategically pixelated areas. "Besides, they were so drunk they probably don't remember half of it. And if they come asking questions..." His smile hardened. "Well, my father knows people."
The unspoken threat hung between them, a shared understanding of the protection their status afforded them. Vishnu nodded, satisfied. The conversation lulled as a group of giggling first-year girls passed by, their eyes darting toward the two men before quickly looking away, their whispers growing louder once they thought they were out of earshot.
"Did you see them?" Pathan chuckled. "Always the same. They act scared, but they're curious. They want a taste of danger."
"Speaking of taste—" Vishnu began, but his words died in his throat as the corridor suddenly seemed to still.
She moved like water flowing over smooth stones, graceful and purposeful. The woman's deep blue saree caught the fluorescent lights, the gold border shimmering with each step. Her face—set in serious lines of concentration—bore the distinct features of South Indian beauty: large, expressive eyes framed by arched brows, high cheekbones, and full lips pressed into a determined line. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, not a strand out of place, the traditional styling only enhancing the elegant curve of her neck.
"Holy shit," Pathan breathed, his phone forgotten in his suddenly slack grip. "Who is that?"
Vishnu couldn't answer. His cigarette hung from his bottom lip, the ash growing dangerously long as he stared. She wasn't young—maybe early thirties—but her beauty carried the weight of maturity, like aged wine compared to the sweet juice of the college girls they usually pursued. Her figure, modestly dbangd in silk, nonetheless revealed curves that made his mouth go dry.
As she passed them, the scent of jasmine and sandalwood drifted in her wake, a stark contrast to the harsh smells that typically permeated the corridor. Her eyes flicked briefly in their direction, a moment of acknowledgment without interest, before returning to her path forward.
"Did you see how she looked at us?" Pathan whispered, though she was already several meters away.
"She didn't look at us, bhenchod," Vishnu muttered, finally remembering to tap his cigarette. "She looked through us."
"No woman looks through me," Pathan replied, his voice hardening with wounded pride. He straightened his designer shirt, a movement that reminded Vishnu of a peacock ruffling its feathers. "Who is she? I've never seen her before."
Vishnu was already scanning the corridor for a familiar face. He spotted Anand from their class, a nervous, bespectacled boy who somehow always knew the latest campus gossip despite barely speaking to anyone.
"Anand!" Vishnu called, his voice causing the smaller student to jump visibly. "Come here."
Anand approached with the reluctance of prey approaching a predator, clutching his books to his chest like a shield. "Y-yes, Vishnu?"
"That woman who just walked by. The one in the blue saree. Who is she?"
Anand's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! That's the new professor. Dr. Devika Nair. She's from Kerala. Just joined yesterday. She's supposed to teach us Biology this semester."
Pathan's eyebrows shot up, and he exchanged a look with Vishnu that contained equal parts surprise and delight.
"Biology, huh?" A slow smile spread across Pathan's face. "I think I might actually attend class for once."
"Is she married?" Vishnu asked, ignoring Anand's increasingly uncomfortable expression.
"I think so. I heard she wears a marriage chain, but her husband is abroad or something." Anand shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Professor Krishnamurthy introduced her at the department meeting yesterday."
"Interesting." Vishnu took a final drag from his cigarette before grinding it under his heel. "Very interesting."
"Can I... can I go now?" Anand asked, already inching away.
Pathan waved him off dismissively, turning back to Vishnu with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "A beautiful woman, far from home, husband conveniently out of the picture. This semester just got a lot more entertaining."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Vishnu cautioned, though his own mind was racing with similar thoughts. "Let's see what she's like first."
"I'm telling you, these South Indian women..." Pathan's voice dropped lower, a mixture of crude stereotypes and vulgar speculation spilling from his lips as they began walking toward the classroom. "Under all that conservative clothing and proper behavior, they're just waiting for someone to—"
"Save it for after class," Vishnu cut in as they approached the Biology laboratory. "I want to see if Dr. Devika Nair lives up to her first impression."
The laboratory was already half-full when they entered, students settling into their usual groups. Vishnu noted with satisfaction that the two seats at the back corner were still unoccupied – their traditional territory, respected by the rest of the class through unspoken agreement. They slouched into the chairs, Pathan immediately sprawling his legs into the aisle while Vishnu leaned back, balancing the chair on its rear legs.
The chatter in the room died down as Dr. Nair entered, carrying a stack of papers and a worn leather satchel. Up close, she was even more striking. The fluorescent lights caught the subtle flecks of gray at her temples, and Vishnu found himself fascinated by the contrast of the silver against her otherwise jet-black hair. Her movements were precise as she arranged her materials on the desk, each gesture economical and purposeful.
"Good morning," she began, her voice carrying a melodic lilt that marked her as non-native to Maharashtra. "I am Dr. Devika Nair, your new Associate Professor for Molecular Biology. I've recently joined the faculty from Kerala, where I completed my doctoral research on cellular adaptation to environmental stressors."
She paused, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the various faces before her. When her gaze passed over Vishnu and Pathan, he felt a strange tightening in his chest, as though he'd been caught doing something shameful. The feeling was unfamiliar and quickly replaced by his usual bravado.
"Before we begin our syllabus, I thought it might be beneficial for us to get acquainted," she continued. "So I'd like each of you to introduce yourself briefly – your name, your academic interests, and perhaps something about why you chose biology as your field of study."
A collective groan rippled through the class, quickly stifled when Devika raised an eyebrow. She pointed to a student in the front row, and the introductions began.
As the ritual moved through the rows, Vishnu observed Dr. Nair's reactions. She nodded encouragingly at each student, occasionally asking a follow-up question that revealed she was genuinely listening. It was a stark contrast to most professors who went through such exercises mechanically, already forgetting each name as they moved to the next student.
When the introductions reached Pathan, he straightened in his seat, smoothing his hair back with one hand in a practiced gesture that Vishnu had seen him use countless times when approaching women at parties.
"I am Pathan Khan," he announced, his voice deliberately deeper than usual. "My family runs several businesses in Pune. My academic interests..." He paused, a rehearsed hesitation. "I find the study of human biology particularly fascinating, especially..." His eyes fixed on Devika with unmistakable intent, "...reproductive systems."
A few snickers rippled through the class. Vishnu watched Dr. Nair's reaction carefully. Her expression remained neutral, though he thought he detected a slight tightening around her eyes.
"And why did you choose biology, Mr. Khan?" she asked, her tone professional but cooler than it had been with the previous students.
Pathan's smile widened. "I believe understanding the body is essential to living a... fulfilled life."
More snickers, louder this time. Dr. Nair's posture stiffened slightly, but she maintained her composure.
"I see. Thank you for your candor." She moved her gaze to Vishnu. "And you?"
Vishnu felt an unexpected urge to distance himself from Pathan's crude approach. "Vishnu Patil," he said simply. "My family recently invested in pharmaceutical manufacturing, so I'm here to learn the scientific side of the business." It wasn't entirely untrue – his father had indeed purchased shares in a pharmaceutical company, though Vishnu had no real interest in it.
"An applied approach," Dr. Nair nodded. "Any particular area of pharmaceuticals that interests you?"
The question caught him off guard. Most professors never bothered with follow-ups for him, assuming (correctly) that his academic interests were minimal. "I, uh, haven't decided yet. Probably something profitable."
This earned a genuine laugh from several classmates, and to his surprise, a small smile from Dr. Nair as well. The smile transformed her face, softening the professional mask and revealing a warmth that made Vishnu sit up straighter.
"Honesty is appreciated, Mr. Patil. Though I hope by the end of this course, you might find value in biology beyond just its profit potential."
With the introductions complete, Dr. Nair launched into an overview of the semester's curriculum. Her teaching style was engaging – she spoke with passion about molecular structures and cellular functions, making connections to real-world applications that even Vishnu found himself following with unexpected interest.
"The cell membrane," she explained, drawing a quick diagram on the whiteboard, "isn't simply a barrier. It's a sophisticated filter, constantly making decisions about what to allow in and what to keep out. It adapts to its environment, strengthening against threats, remaining permeable to nutrients."
Her hands moved as she spoke, graceful gestures that emphasized her points. The gold bangles on her wrist clinked softly, a delicate counterpoint to her authoritative voice.
Pathan leaned close to Vishnu's ear. "I'd like to test the permeability of her membrane," he whispered, his breath hot and reeking of paan.
Vishnu elbowed him hard in the ribs, not because he was offended by the crudeness – he'd said worse himself on many occasions – but because he was actually trying to listen. Something about the way Dr. Nair explained complex concepts made them seem accessible, almost intuitive.
"...which brings us to the concept of osmotic pressure," she continued, unaware of the exchange. "Can anyone explain why a cell might rupture when placed in a hypotonic solution?"
Several hands went up, none belonging to either Vishnu or Pathan. Dr. Nair called on a girl in the second row, who gave a textbook-perfect answer. Vishnu found himself watching Dr. Nair's face as she listened – the slight nod, the approving smile, the way her eyes lit up at a particularly insightful comment.
"Excellent explanation, Ms. Sharma. Now, let's consider the reverse scenario..."
The class continued this way, with Dr. Nair alternating between lecture and discussion. Vishnu noticed that she had a habit of tucking stray hairs behind her ear when she was thinking, a small, human gesture that contrasted with her otherwise polished presentation. Once, when she bent to retrieve a dropped marker, the silk of her saree pulled taut across her hips for a brief moment before she straightened, adjusting the fabric with practiced hands.
Pathan noticed too. His eyes never left her figure, tracking her movements around the classroom with the focused attention of a predator. Occasionally he would scribble something in his notebook and slide it toward Vishnu – crude drawings and cruder comments that would have made even their male friends uncomfortable.
As the class neared its end, Dr. Nair assigned reading for the next session and invited questions. The genuine interest she showed in student queries was another departure from what Vishnu was accustomed to. Most professors treated questions as annoyances to be dispatched as quickly as possible, but she engaged thoughtfully with each one, building on students' curiosity rather than shutting it down.
When the bell finally rang, there was none of the usual mad rush for the door. Students gathered their belongings at a normal pace, several lingering to ask Dr. Nair additional questions. Vishnu and Pathan remained in their seats, observing.
"I never thought I'd say this," Pathan muttered, "but I might actually read the textbook for once."
"You won't read shit," Vishnu replied, knowing his friend too well. "You'll just come to class to stare at her ass."
Pathan grinned, not bothering to deny it. "Can you blame me? Did you see how that saree hugs her curves? And those eyes, man. I bet she's wild beneath all that proper professor exterior."
Vishnu said nothing, watching as Dr. Nair patiently explained something to a student, her hands moving in those same graceful gestures that had captured his attention throughout the lecture. There was something compelling about her that went beyond physical attraction, though he wasn't about to admit that to Pathan.
"I'm telling you," Pathan continued as they finally rose to leave, "these Kerala women are like pressure cookers – all that heat contained under a tight lid. They just need someone to release the valve." He made an obscene gesture with his hand.
"You're disgusting," Vishnu said, though he laughed. "Besides, she's way out of your league. Did you see how she looked at you when you made that comment about 'reproductive systems'? She saw right through your bullshit."
"It's all part of the game," Pathan insisted as they stepped into the corridor. "First, you make them notice you, even if it's negative. Then you switch tactics, show them you can be serious. The contrast intrigues them."
"Is that what you call it? Because from where I was sitting, she looked more disgusted than intrigued."
They continued down the hallway, their voices echoing off the walls as they discussed Dr. Nair in increasingly explicit terms. Other students gave them a wide berth, as usual, but Vishnu noticed several disapproving glances thrown their way – particularly from female classmates who had overheard their comments.
"Bet you fifty thousand rupees I can get her to go out with me before the end of the semester," Pathan declared as they pushed through the doors to the courtyard.
Vishnu snorted. "You're delusional. She's married."
"Married to some guy in Dubai who probably hasn't touched her in months." Pathan tapped his temple. "Trust me, I know these things. Women have needs."
"Whatever, man." Vishnu lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. The image of Dr. Nair explaining cellular adaptation lingered in his mind, her voice clear and passionate. For a brief moment, he felt an unfamiliar twinge of something like respect, quickly buried beneath the weight of his usual cynicism. "May the best man win."
Pathan grinned, misinterpreting Vishnu's words as acceptance of competition rather than dismissal. "That would be me, my friend. That would be me."
They settled onto their usual bench beneath a banyan tree, the smoke from Vishnu's cigarette curling upward through the humid air. In the distance, through the open windows of the Science building, they could see Dr. Devika Nair gathering her materials, unaware of the predatory eyes tracking her movements, unaware of the crude wager just made with her dignity as the prize.
"Got three new clients from the Engineering block," Vishnu muttered, flicking ash onto the polished floor. "First-years. Rich kids with daddy's money burning holes in their pockets."
Pathan's lips curled into a smirk, his thumbs still dancing across his phone screen. "How much did you charge them?"
"Double the usual. Told them it was premium quality, imported from Manali." Vishnu chuckled, the sound low and rough. "It's the same shit we always sell, but these idiots wouldn't know good ganja if it slapped them in the face."
"Smart business." Pathan finally looked up, dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Speaking of business, that video we took at Rajesh's party last month? The one with those two girls from Commerce?"
Vishnu straightened, suddenly interested. "What about it?"
"Uploaded it to our private channel yesterday. Already got twenty-five subscriptions." Pathan turned his phone to show Vishnu the screen. "Five thousand each. Not bad for one night's work."
Vishnu's eyes narrowed as he studied the numbers. "Did you blur their faces like I told you? Last thing we need is—"
"Relax, yaar. I'm not an amateur." Pathan swiped the screen, revealing a thumbnail of a video with strategically pixelated areas. "Besides, they were so drunk they probably don't remember half of it. And if they come asking questions..." His smile hardened. "Well, my father knows people."
The unspoken threat hung between them, a shared understanding of the protection their status afforded them. Vishnu nodded, satisfied. The conversation lulled as a group of giggling first-year girls passed by, their eyes darting toward the two men before quickly looking away, their whispers growing louder once they thought they were out of earshot.
"Did you see them?" Pathan chuckled. "Always the same. They act scared, but they're curious. They want a taste of danger."
"Speaking of taste—" Vishnu began, but his words died in his throat as the corridor suddenly seemed to still.
She moved like water flowing over smooth stones, graceful and purposeful. The woman's deep blue saree caught the fluorescent lights, the gold border shimmering with each step. Her face—set in serious lines of concentration—bore the distinct features of South Indian beauty: large, expressive eyes framed by arched brows, high cheekbones, and full lips pressed into a determined line. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, not a strand out of place, the traditional styling only enhancing the elegant curve of her neck.
"Holy shit," Pathan breathed, his phone forgotten in his suddenly slack grip. "Who is that?"
Vishnu couldn't answer. His cigarette hung from his bottom lip, the ash growing dangerously long as he stared. She wasn't young—maybe early thirties—but her beauty carried the weight of maturity, like aged wine compared to the sweet juice of the college girls they usually pursued. Her figure, modestly dbangd in silk, nonetheless revealed curves that made his mouth go dry.
As she passed them, the scent of jasmine and sandalwood drifted in her wake, a stark contrast to the harsh smells that typically permeated the corridor. Her eyes flicked briefly in their direction, a moment of acknowledgment without interest, before returning to her path forward.
"Did you see how she looked at us?" Pathan whispered, though she was already several meters away.
"She didn't look at us, bhenchod," Vishnu muttered, finally remembering to tap his cigarette. "She looked through us."
"No woman looks through me," Pathan replied, his voice hardening with wounded pride. He straightened his designer shirt, a movement that reminded Vishnu of a peacock ruffling its feathers. "Who is she? I've never seen her before."
Vishnu was already scanning the corridor for a familiar face. He spotted Anand from their class, a nervous, bespectacled boy who somehow always knew the latest campus gossip despite barely speaking to anyone.
"Anand!" Vishnu called, his voice causing the smaller student to jump visibly. "Come here."
Anand approached with the reluctance of prey approaching a predator, clutching his books to his chest like a shield. "Y-yes, Vishnu?"
"That woman who just walked by. The one in the blue saree. Who is she?"
Anand's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! That's the new professor. Dr. Devika Nair. She's from Kerala. Just joined yesterday. She's supposed to teach us Biology this semester."
Pathan's eyebrows shot up, and he exchanged a look with Vishnu that contained equal parts surprise and delight.
"Biology, huh?" A slow smile spread across Pathan's face. "I think I might actually attend class for once."
"Is she married?" Vishnu asked, ignoring Anand's increasingly uncomfortable expression.
"I think so. I heard she wears a marriage chain, but her husband is abroad or something." Anand shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Professor Krishnamurthy introduced her at the department meeting yesterday."
"Interesting." Vishnu took a final drag from his cigarette before grinding it under his heel. "Very interesting."
"Can I... can I go now?" Anand asked, already inching away.
Pathan waved him off dismissively, turning back to Vishnu with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "A beautiful woman, far from home, husband conveniently out of the picture. This semester just got a lot more entertaining."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Vishnu cautioned, though his own mind was racing with similar thoughts. "Let's see what she's like first."
"I'm telling you, these South Indian women..." Pathan's voice dropped lower, a mixture of crude stereotypes and vulgar speculation spilling from his lips as they began walking toward the classroom. "Under all that conservative clothing and proper behavior, they're just waiting for someone to—"
"Save it for after class," Vishnu cut in as they approached the Biology laboratory. "I want to see if Dr. Devika Nair lives up to her first impression."
The laboratory was already half-full when they entered, students settling into their usual groups. Vishnu noted with satisfaction that the two seats at the back corner were still unoccupied – their traditional territory, respected by the rest of the class through unspoken agreement. They slouched into the chairs, Pathan immediately sprawling his legs into the aisle while Vishnu leaned back, balancing the chair on its rear legs.
The chatter in the room died down as Dr. Nair entered, carrying a stack of papers and a worn leather satchel. Up close, she was even more striking. The fluorescent lights caught the subtle flecks of gray at her temples, and Vishnu found himself fascinated by the contrast of the silver against her otherwise jet-black hair. Her movements were precise as she arranged her materials on the desk, each gesture economical and purposeful.
"Good morning," she began, her voice carrying a melodic lilt that marked her as non-native to Maharashtra. "I am Dr. Devika Nair, your new Associate Professor for Molecular Biology. I've recently joined the faculty from Kerala, where I completed my doctoral research on cellular adaptation to environmental stressors."
She paused, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the various faces before her. When her gaze passed over Vishnu and Pathan, he felt a strange tightening in his chest, as though he'd been caught doing something shameful. The feeling was unfamiliar and quickly replaced by his usual bravado.
"Before we begin our syllabus, I thought it might be beneficial for us to get acquainted," she continued. "So I'd like each of you to introduce yourself briefly – your name, your academic interests, and perhaps something about why you chose biology as your field of study."
A collective groan rippled through the class, quickly stifled when Devika raised an eyebrow. She pointed to a student in the front row, and the introductions began.
As the ritual moved through the rows, Vishnu observed Dr. Nair's reactions. She nodded encouragingly at each student, occasionally asking a follow-up question that revealed she was genuinely listening. It was a stark contrast to most professors who went through such exercises mechanically, already forgetting each name as they moved to the next student.
When the introductions reached Pathan, he straightened in his seat, smoothing his hair back with one hand in a practiced gesture that Vishnu had seen him use countless times when approaching women at parties.
"I am Pathan Khan," he announced, his voice deliberately deeper than usual. "My family runs several businesses in Pune. My academic interests..." He paused, a rehearsed hesitation. "I find the study of human biology particularly fascinating, especially..." His eyes fixed on Devika with unmistakable intent, "...reproductive systems."
A few snickers rippled through the class. Vishnu watched Dr. Nair's reaction carefully. Her expression remained neutral, though he thought he detected a slight tightening around her eyes.
"And why did you choose biology, Mr. Khan?" she asked, her tone professional but cooler than it had been with the previous students.
Pathan's smile widened. "I believe understanding the body is essential to living a... fulfilled life."
More snickers, louder this time. Dr. Nair's posture stiffened slightly, but she maintained her composure.
"I see. Thank you for your candor." She moved her gaze to Vishnu. "And you?"
Vishnu felt an unexpected urge to distance himself from Pathan's crude approach. "Vishnu Patil," he said simply. "My family recently invested in pharmaceutical manufacturing, so I'm here to learn the scientific side of the business." It wasn't entirely untrue – his father had indeed purchased shares in a pharmaceutical company, though Vishnu had no real interest in it.
"An applied approach," Dr. Nair nodded. "Any particular area of pharmaceuticals that interests you?"
The question caught him off guard. Most professors never bothered with follow-ups for him, assuming (correctly) that his academic interests were minimal. "I, uh, haven't decided yet. Probably something profitable."
This earned a genuine laugh from several classmates, and to his surprise, a small smile from Dr. Nair as well. The smile transformed her face, softening the professional mask and revealing a warmth that made Vishnu sit up straighter.
"Honesty is appreciated, Mr. Patil. Though I hope by the end of this course, you might find value in biology beyond just its profit potential."
With the introductions complete, Dr. Nair launched into an overview of the semester's curriculum. Her teaching style was engaging – she spoke with passion about molecular structures and cellular functions, making connections to real-world applications that even Vishnu found himself following with unexpected interest.
"The cell membrane," she explained, drawing a quick diagram on the whiteboard, "isn't simply a barrier. It's a sophisticated filter, constantly making decisions about what to allow in and what to keep out. It adapts to its environment, strengthening against threats, remaining permeable to nutrients."
Her hands moved as she spoke, graceful gestures that emphasized her points. The gold bangles on her wrist clinked softly, a delicate counterpoint to her authoritative voice.
Pathan leaned close to Vishnu's ear. "I'd like to test the permeability of her membrane," he whispered, his breath hot and reeking of paan.
Vishnu elbowed him hard in the ribs, not because he was offended by the crudeness – he'd said worse himself on many occasions – but because he was actually trying to listen. Something about the way Dr. Nair explained complex concepts made them seem accessible, almost intuitive.
"...which brings us to the concept of osmotic pressure," she continued, unaware of the exchange. "Can anyone explain why a cell might rupture when placed in a hypotonic solution?"
Several hands went up, none belonging to either Vishnu or Pathan. Dr. Nair called on a girl in the second row, who gave a textbook-perfect answer. Vishnu found himself watching Dr. Nair's face as she listened – the slight nod, the approving smile, the way her eyes lit up at a particularly insightful comment.
"Excellent explanation, Ms. Sharma. Now, let's consider the reverse scenario..."
The class continued this way, with Dr. Nair alternating between lecture and discussion. Vishnu noticed that she had a habit of tucking stray hairs behind her ear when she was thinking, a small, human gesture that contrasted with her otherwise polished presentation. Once, when she bent to retrieve a dropped marker, the silk of her saree pulled taut across her hips for a brief moment before she straightened, adjusting the fabric with practiced hands.
Pathan noticed too. His eyes never left her figure, tracking her movements around the classroom with the focused attention of a predator. Occasionally he would scribble something in his notebook and slide it toward Vishnu – crude drawings and cruder comments that would have made even their male friends uncomfortable.
As the class neared its end, Dr. Nair assigned reading for the next session and invited questions. The genuine interest she showed in student queries was another departure from what Vishnu was accustomed to. Most professors treated questions as annoyances to be dispatched as quickly as possible, but she engaged thoughtfully with each one, building on students' curiosity rather than shutting it down.
When the bell finally rang, there was none of the usual mad rush for the door. Students gathered their belongings at a normal pace, several lingering to ask Dr. Nair additional questions. Vishnu and Pathan remained in their seats, observing.
"I never thought I'd say this," Pathan muttered, "but I might actually read the textbook for once."
"You won't read shit," Vishnu replied, knowing his friend too well. "You'll just come to class to stare at her ass."
Pathan grinned, not bothering to deny it. "Can you blame me? Did you see how that saree hugs her curves? And those eyes, man. I bet she's wild beneath all that proper professor exterior."
Vishnu said nothing, watching as Dr. Nair patiently explained something to a student, her hands moving in those same graceful gestures that had captured his attention throughout the lecture. There was something compelling about her that went beyond physical attraction, though he wasn't about to admit that to Pathan.
"I'm telling you," Pathan continued as they finally rose to leave, "these Kerala women are like pressure cookers – all that heat contained under a tight lid. They just need someone to release the valve." He made an obscene gesture with his hand.
"You're disgusting," Vishnu said, though he laughed. "Besides, she's way out of your league. Did you see how she looked at you when you made that comment about 'reproductive systems'? She saw right through your bullshit."
"It's all part of the game," Pathan insisted as they stepped into the corridor. "First, you make them notice you, even if it's negative. Then you switch tactics, show them you can be serious. The contrast intrigues them."
"Is that what you call it? Because from where I was sitting, she looked more disgusted than intrigued."
They continued down the hallway, their voices echoing off the walls as they discussed Dr. Nair in increasingly explicit terms. Other students gave them a wide berth, as usual, but Vishnu noticed several disapproving glances thrown their way – particularly from female classmates who had overheard their comments.
"Bet you fifty thousand rupees I can get her to go out with me before the end of the semester," Pathan declared as they pushed through the doors to the courtyard.
Vishnu snorted. "You're delusional. She's married."
"Married to some guy in Dubai who probably hasn't touched her in months." Pathan tapped his temple. "Trust me, I know these things. Women have needs."
"Whatever, man." Vishnu lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. The image of Dr. Nair explaining cellular adaptation lingered in his mind, her voice clear and passionate. For a brief moment, he felt an unfamiliar twinge of something like respect, quickly buried beneath the weight of his usual cynicism. "May the best man win."
Pathan grinned, misinterpreting Vishnu's words as acceptance of competition rather than dismissal. "That would be me, my friend. That would be me."
They settled onto their usual bench beneath a banyan tree, the smoke from Vishnu's cigarette curling upward through the humid air. In the distance, through the open windows of the Science building, they could see Dr. Devika Nair gathering her materials, unaware of the predatory eyes tracking her movements, unaware of the crude wager just made with her dignity as the prize.
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