Thank you for your overwhelming response for the Unthan Nyabagame shots and taking your time to comment on the feedback Q&A posted . I'm really happy that a lot of you liked the characters in Dear Professor. 🙏🏽
Disclaimer: This is a work of FICTION. Some aspects have been inspired by real life.
Not proof read and the entire chapter was typed using a mobile device. Please bear with typos.
As always, there's a note at the end of the shot.
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Verum Kaanala?
The cool breeze from the ocean prickled her skin making her hug herself running her hands up and down her arms to quell the goosebumps that rose quickly, mostly from the weather but also from what was going on around her.
She was dressed in pastels, her favorite on the color palette, a pink short-sleeved V-neck raw silk blouse, a flared Georgette green skirt and a green netted dupatta with the borders embroidered with pink flowers that rested on her left shoulder. Her hair was parted on the side with a small section of hair twisted and held by a sparkly rose gold barrette on one side while the other side was left loose in soft curls resting on her chest. A pearl choker with a small rose gold flower in the center grasped her neck and her lips were painted pink that were reminiscent of a blooming tulip.
She was nervously fiddling with the ends of her dupatta with her hands that felt numb like they had been sitting on a block of ice when the emcee called her on to the stage. Suppressing the ache in her stomach brought on by anxiety, she walked up the stage, an aesthetically decorated raised platform on the private beach resort. No, it wasn't what she was about to do that caused the anxiety, she could do that with her eyes closed.
Taking the mike from the emcee and placing it on the stand in front of her, she closed her eyes for a few seconds to compose herself. Opening her eyes to the sight of soft lanterns hanging above the tables overlooking the stage, she moved her gaze to the candle placed in the glass jar atop one of the tables. Taking a deep breath, she shifted her gaze at him, her lips involuntarily curving into a small smile. Her best friend .
Clearing her throat, she started singing. His favorite song, their favorite song.
Teri aankhon mein jhaakne wala
Tere Hoton pe kaapne wala
Teri baaton mein bolne wala
(
Someone who looks deep into your eyes
quivers on your lips like an unspoken word
Someone who can read your mind
)
She had met him back in college. He was her senior and they were both working towards the same thing. They had spent hours together working on their MBA entrance examinations.
She'd been his rock when he didn't crack it the first time. She'd set up a study schedule, helped him with data interpretation parts of the test which was not his strong suit, slogged through the nights with him as the exams got closer. When they'd both cleared the exam and he'd chosen the same college as her for his MBA, he'd simply said she was her lucky charm who helped him clear the exams and that he'd wanted to be with her.
Helping each other through classes, they became the best of friends.
She stood by him when everyone called him a fool for turning down a job at a multinational bank fresh off his MBA. He had always wanted to start a business. She'd been there with him when he wrote proposals, from something as menial as making his coffee, to proof reading his proposal, helping him prepare his pitch at investor meetings she had played the role of his assistant, colleague and a partner . She had spent countless hours standing in banks for loans when he was low on cash. She had spent more time with investors reassuring them than he did. She had invested her income when some investors walked away.
