"𝑰𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔..."
Siddique Khan, age 26 is an ideal Muslim young man with good values and morals. He practices his deen regularly. He loves his family and can do anything for them. Especially, for his fa...
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SIX MONTHS AGO
"32?"
"Present, ma'am!"
"33?"
"Present."
"34?" It's been a few seconds that no response came so I again called. "34?"
Getting no response again I finally looked up to check what he was doing. I know he is here. That little bastard is busy doing something in his notebook so lost that he can't hear me calling him.
"Fucking teenager," Cursing him under my breath I again called him in high tone. "Farhan?" My voice echoes in the room making him jump at his place out of fear.
"Pre- Present Naaz ma'am." Farhan replied nervously, getting up from his seat in hurry. He got up in so much of a rush that his notebook fell on the floor under his bench.
He became more nervous after my eyes fell on it. That little guy literally started to sweat like shit, when I got up from my place and walked towards his bench. I stand beside his bench crossing arms over my chest and looking at him in anger.
"What special kept you so busy that you couldn't hear me calling out your roll number? Huh?" My voice is deadly, making him more nervous.
He didn't utter a word just stood still, drawing others attention to him and making me more angry at him. I might be a sweet teacher most of the time but when some kid acts like a brat, I know how to tame them by giving them the right amount of punishment.
I bend down to get the notebook but he dares to kick it off and here I lost my mind. "Get out froym your bench and stand there." I point out the empty place beside my table. "Now."
He reluctantly came out from his bench and stood where I asked him to. "Ma'am I'm sorry."
"Shut up. And hold your ears and do sit ups." I look to others. "Count till he completes 50."
Farhan started to do his punishment and others count the numbers in high tone. They know the drill. I quickly grab the notebook and open it to check.
"Please don't." Farhan begged me.
"You don't stop. You guys count." I scream at them.
They continued their work. I can hear him crying. He is a crying mess.
I inspected his notebook till the end, there I saw a cartoon me. Only the upper body. The cartoon me was in a red bra. Just a bra with open hair. The breast looked bigger than mine. And a "Ilove you Naaz ma'am." was written in a corner.
