The Shades of Spring

Winds of Vindiction

In every political system, there was at least one person who believed themselves entitled to the highest luxuries and greatest respect. Often times, these were the very people who anything but deserved it.

Down in Wisdom, there were quite a few people of the kind, but Blaise Pastor took away the grand prize.
All day, she would trot about the school building, patronising the teachers with the sickliest sweet smiles she could muster. It was like a routine check and thus, teachers referred to her as Patrol Police.
Saw the patrol police coming this way. You better keep the class quiet, they'd tell each other.

Sidra was sitting in the empty staff room marking the answer sheets when a janitor popped his head in to tell Blaise was on her way. She thanked him but didn't bother to tidy the mess left behind by other teachers. Sidra went on marking, catching a glimpse of Blaise walking past the open door. She was too tired for her games.

But Blaise was never tired of Sidra. She returned and sat next to her, taking a long while to adjust into the seat. Sidra looked up and smiled politely, then went back to the books.

"What is this, dear? Not even a Hi?"

Sidra wanted anything but conversation. The test grading was awful in the Fourth Graders. "Hello, Miss. Just busy."

"So, so Sidra, what's new? How is Wisdom for you?"

"It's very nice, thank you."

Blaise picked her next words carefully, "I hear you have a good rapport with the schoolboys."

"All part of the job description."

"Yeah yeah. Very true. But I hear the senior boys frequent your classroom?"

If Sidra felt the jab, she didn't show it. "Some times, yes."

"Ohhh.....but I was just wondering, and this has nothing to do with you, mind you, why the sudden interest? The big boys barely care for the smaller grades."

Sidra set down her pen and sat back in the chair candidly. "As much as I enjoy a good conversation, Mrs Pastor, I am very busy today-" she pointed her chin at an untouched stack of papers "-if you would please tell me the matter sooner, I'd be much obliged."

Blaise bristled. But maintained a steady composure. "Most boys here aren't good, Sidra. They have stuff like teacher crushes and all. Encouraging them won't do."

Every lie has a kernel of truth in it, as did this. The teacher crush matter was true in Wisdom as much as it was in every other school, but Sidra neither knew any having one on her nor was she one to encourage it, "And I encourage them?"

"No no..." Blaise backpedaled quickly, "You're young and you're pretty fine. I'm just looking out for you."

Sidra smiled kindly, "Thank you very much, Miss. That's thoughtful of you. But rest assured that there is no problem of the sort among any student with respect to me."
Sidra figured the best way to end the conversation, was to turn it in Blaise's direction.
"Also Miss, in the same spirit as you, I've been meaning to ask, is it true that parents have requested the school to launch an investigation into how you punish the children? Because, of course, I wouldn't want a teacher like you to be framed for something they didn't do."

Blaise's ears reddened when she took the bait. "You know how parents are. Always defending their children. It will pass." She made a great show of checking her watch, then rose to her feet, "It was so good speaking to you, Ms Jameel." So it's Ms Jameel now? Not Sidra? Cool. "But I must get going. The department won't survive ten minutes without me."

"Of course. Have a good day."

Sidra had a silent laugh at the old woman's hurry. What she did was admittedly rude, but Blaise had it coming. You can only go so long picking on someone and not getting it back. But she made a mental note to further avoid interactions with the senior children. She didn't like any one chumming up with her, let alone boys she didn't know. Should've been a little kinder to her, she supposed. But she really has been suggesting low of me...
Sidra weighed the pros and cons of a disguised apology then frowned because she couldn't make up her mind.

The next period found Sidra in her class, helping Hammad with a new theory. The class was peaceful until,

"That's mine!"
"No that's mine!"
"Look at the scratch! It's mine!"
"You're a liar!"
Sidra tried to step in but the first boy hit the second. In a flash, Hammad was in the midst of the fighters, hitting the first boy. Cries rang out. Chairs were kicked over and Sidra was livid to say the least. She wrenched the three apart and gave a good scolding to them all and ordered a time out, Hammad included, and made them stand at the back after getting her class back in order.

Tears stung his eyes and Hammad glared at Sidra with hatred through his tears. For many months he had been a good boy, doing exactly as he was told. But then this impromptu fight came and before he knew what was happening, Hammad was in the melee. He didn't know why he joined. But he knew one thing, Ms Sidra was unfair. Hammad had only served justice. The pencil belonged to Yusuf, he knew that. Raj was lying. He was a little liar since the start. And Ms Sidra was not interested in knowing Hammad's reasons. She was just happy to punish him.

Blaise Pastor, the scary teacher in the brown cardigan swept into the class and began berating Hammad. Again.
He can never change. He has always been a bad boy. Hitting people is like a hobby to him. He should be expelled.

The tears flowed but he kept his mouth shut. Sidra didn't. She intercepted Blaise,
"Mrs Pastor, I can handle this."

"Handle this? This is how you handle a class, Ms Jameel? Fighting and name calling. My God! Hafsa was never like this."
Hammad knew Mrs Pastor was also a liar. When Ms Hafsa had been there, Hammad had thrown bigger tantrums and even broken furniture. Now he didn't have it in him.

"This is upsetting but not unheard of. Mrs Pastor, let me handle my class. And leave my kids alone."

"Alone? Leave? No wonder this class is like this, what with a class teacher who doesn't show respect to other teachers."
The students gasped. Mrs Pastor was scolding Ms Sidra. Oh no.

Sidra's temper stretched taut like a bowstring, close to snapping and she was very hurt by the words. "With all due respect, Mrs Blaise Pastor. Leave. Now."

"You're disrespecting me?! I have-"

"-No jurisdiction in the primary school," Sidra cut in, in a dangerously low voice. "That's what. All your jurisdiction lies up there, in the senior school and by blowing my class matter out of proportion, you are overstepping your boundaries."
She silently stared at Blaise for a long moment, challenging her to open her mouth again if she dared. After a tense few seconds, Blaise left with promises of an inquiry into Sidra's competency as a teacher.

The wind gone out if their sails and terrified of the anger sweet Ms Sidra was capable of, the class was quiet as mice. Not a word was uttered for the rest of the lesson. Hammad put his head down and cried after Sidra left. Mrs Pastor's words hurt. He had a million things to scream but couldn't find his voice. He had tried so hard. So so hard to become good. For Ms Sidra. And Ms Sidra had put him on time out, in Mrs Pastor's line of sight, and that was why Mrs Pastor had cut him with words.

Hammad hated everyone. He hated Yusuf and Raj for fighting. He hated Raj for hitting Yusuf. He hated Sidra for unfairly punishing him. And he hated Mrs Pastor for always bullying him. Always shaming him. Always dressing him down in front of his class.

He made a decision to hate everyone for the rest of his life. Sidra included. He was never going to talk to her again.