The first chapter is here!
Enjoy!

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The Sun was shining brightly in the sky on a summer day. The sunrays peeping through the kitchen window and falling into the casserole that had grated carrots cooking in it, and a spatula was continuously stirring the ingredients. When the aroma of the mix filled the air, Humaira decided it was time to add sweetness to the dessert.

"Yes, madame Humaira? Empty all our rations today itself. Is there anything else you need?"

The question directed at Humaira made her chuckle, and with a smile playing on her lips, she replied," Nothing as of now, Choti Ammi, but I'll inform you if I need anything. Pakka! And I brought all the ingredients today only. I haven't touched anything from the ration."

" If that is so, I know why you haven't 'touched' the ration." Her choti ammi, Zahida, came beside her," That will need you to have the sense of measurement- something that you lack." She taunted her lack of knowledge about the measurements of ingredients. Humaira wouldn't know how many grams of sugar are in a cup or how many medium-sized potatoes make 1 kg.

" Won't be the only thing I lack." She mumbled.

"Gajar ka halwa... What's the occasion?"

Humaira filled a small bowl with the dessert for her aunt. "Taste it and tell me how it is."

Zahida took a bite of it, and the sweetness was melting in her mouth. One thing was for sure- Humaira's occasional cooking never failed.

"As it should be." She kept her comment neutral and left the kitchen with her dessert.

After packing the dessert in two different parcels, Humaira left to deliver it to the special someone, for whom she put all the effort.

"Here you are! I've been waiting for your call. What happened? Why are you late, and what about your-" his lips gave up on their movement when the outstretched hand holding a lunch box caught his eyes, and the sweet smell filled his senses. "What's in that?"

"Your favourite! Gajar ka halwa!" Humaira opened the box with a big smile.

"Does that mean you did well in your exams?" He enquired while taking a bite from it.

Instead of any reply to his question, a silly Humaira took out another box of dessert and kept it in front of him, her smile- sheepish.

Heaving a sigh of disappointment, he took his seat on the sofa, "You failed again."

With a sharp gasp, she knelt in front of him, "What do you think of me, Baba? I've cleared my second semester with 57%!"

"And got a backlog in linguistics again! She's bribing you, Dad- I'm telling you." The speaker of these words received a flying cushion in his direction with a mouthful of insults coming from the accused.

" Watch your mouth, Aira-gaira! "

" Dare you call me that, Saad! " She ran behind him.

" Abbu, tell your student to back off or I'll sacrifice her to the almighty. "

" If anyone is dying, it's gonna be you, moron! Stop running! "

" My house! I'll run, jog, or jump! You are not telling me what to do! " Saad pinched her nose, standing tall in front of her small frame.

" You...! "

" Humaira! Come back right here! " The spectator of the Saad and Humaira show shouted.

A flushed Humaira came back to the person for whom she was here in the first place. " Saad is right, isn't he? You failed in your Linguistics paper again? "

The silence in the air that had the sweet aroma lingering in it answered for her.

" That's it, Humaira. Now you have to find a new teacher for you-"

"No! I didn't fail my semester, Baba. I cleared it with good grades. It's only linguistics that-"

"You have appeared twice and still... Failed. I had already asked you to look for another teacher if my way of teaching is not helping you."

"But Baba- I cleared all of my papers with your guidance only. It's not you, it's me."

"So, finally, you are breaking up with my dad!" Saad jumped in between their conversation again after hearing the most used break-up phrase, "Thank God!"

"Baba." She complained.

"Saad, in your room. Now."

The young man huffed, muttering about his father's favouritism towards his student, whom he treats like his own, if not more.

Humaira has been his pupil since nursery. She was immensely attached to her teacher after a certain point in her life, which kept changing. While many people marked their entry and exit from her life, her teacher, Hameed, remained a constant. He was the father figure in her life that she lost eight years back with the death of her grandfather; and Humaira was the jolly daughter he never had. They filled the void in each other's lives.

"Baba, I'm sorry." She held her ears, "I swear that I studied hard for the paper, but I don't know what happened with it. It's very tough, Baba, and I cannot understand a word of it. "

The retired professor was silently looking at the show his student was putting on to gain his forgiveness and sympathy, but he was well aware of her dislike towards that particular paper. He knew that she didn't study for it as there was no way she was going to remember anything- according to her.

" Done? From this semester, I'm handing you over to my new assistant. Welcome to your new batch, Humaira. See you in 15 minutes. " His smile was sarcastic.

" Baba... " She whined, but the next second her expression changed to shock, " since when do you have an assistant? "

" This moment. " he nodded," now go to your class and wait for your tutor. "

Humaira didn't want to move or study under someone else's guidance, " But I don't have any books with me. " This had to be her lamest excuse ever.

Hameed acted surprised," Really? Oh wait.. I know that already. You never bought any. Now off to the class. "

In this year and a half of her bachelor's degree, she hadn't purchased a single book; nor did she borrow one from the library. Correction: She did issue books, but only the ones that had nothing to do with her degree; classics were excluded.

" I'm not Saad, baba! " She cried, turning her heels to follow his command.

Sitting at her desk, she was patiently waiting for her tutor. Her head was supported by her palm while she traced the words engraved on the bench. Her attention shifted to the person who walked in through the door. She couldn't believe who she was seeing, and the other person was mirroring her expression.

Humaira stood up, her eyes not leaving the person, who chuckled seeing her, saying - " Should have known it's gonna be you. Hope you remember me?"

She nodded in reply. Of course, she remembered him. Umair Mirza. Prof. Hameed's eldest son. Tall, brooding, tanned. Dressed in his formal attire– a white striped shirt and dark blue pants with a tie loosely resting beneath his collar. And his sleeves were obviously folded to a certain extent.

"You're old now." Humaira's eyebrows were close to each other as she read the appearance of the person coming towards her, "You have glasses on, you have lost your hair, too. Are those wrinkles?"

"These glasses are my props," he said as he removed his glasses and kept them on his desk," my previous hair wasn't appropriate for my profession, and these wrinkles, " he made a circular motion pointing at the invisible wrinkles on his face," are thanks to your likes of students."

Humaira scoffed," That means that you don't have any. "

He landed lousily on the chair," Yup, my students happen to clear their papers on the first go." He smirked, his listener rolled her eyes.

" Umair Bh-"

He cut her off, correcting her," It's Professor Umair Hameed Mirza. You can call me Professor Umair or Mirza. Whichever you like. "

" You're no professor of mine! "

" Then, sir, it is. " He announced. Not waiting for her reply, he turned his back to her, facing the board, picked a chalk from the desk, and started scribbling on the board, "I can see you don't have any books with you. Take a notebook from here and start copying the points I'm giving. I'll explain once you're done."

"Ain't you a little young to be a professor?"

"I age more than the number of teeth you have."

Humaira took offence, "I've a whole set of 32!"

His hand continued writing on the board as his body kept moving in a little distance to cover one corner of the board to another, "Still not wise enough, I see."

"Wait, you're the new assistant?" It was now that she realised what he was doing.

With a quick force, he marked the sentence close and faced her, "I still stick to my previous remark. Not wise enough."

"Wise enough to see this nepotism. I don't accept you as my teacher. Baba is. Baba..! " She called out for her actual tutor.

" Nepotism? Really? " He was bewildered.

" Yeah, all thanks to Baba's well-being and reputation."

Umair scoffed, surprised by his unofficial student's allegations," You do know that I completed my studies in Delhi and your Baba is in Mumbai? "

" Yeah, I know you stay with your mom-" just the mention of the last word made both their faces dull," I'm sorry about your mom. It must be hard for you. "

Umair heaved a deep breath, " This isn't a time to discuss any personal matter, Humaira. Start copying the notes."

Umair used to live with his mother after his parents got divorced when he was 13, while Saad stayed with his dad, living his old life; Umair had to start anew with his mother in a different city, where she got married to a businessman. He used to visit his father during his summer vacations for a week or two for the next 5 to 6 years. Two months back, he lost his mother to a prolonged ailment, and staying with his step-dad wasn't really easy. So, once again, he moved cities to start a new life- but this time with his family- his father, and his brother.

Even though he stayed away from his father, the influence was strong. Umair always excelled in his studies. He loved reading the stories written by his father and listening to his mother telling the folktales or fairytales to his half-brother and step-sister. His keen interest in literature, like his father's, helped him to pursue a career in it.

"You're not a professor. You don't have a doctorate degree." Humaira pointed again, earning a stern look from him, unaffected by his gaze, she added her further thoughts, "What? This isn't personal. It's absolutely professional! And I have the right to know about the background of my so-called tutor."

He raised his eyebrows in response, accepting her reason. He took a seat in front of her, "So, Ms. Humaira Mir. I'm your new tutor, Umair Mirza. I've completed my bachelor's in English with 97.4%, Master's with 96.6% and then continued with my M.Phil. In between I cleared my UGC NET with 94.8%."

" Someone kept going downhill. " She was almost convincing with her unimpressed impression, but deep down felt intimidated by his score.

" What about you? "

Gulping in her nervousness, and collecting her courage she began," I took a break after 12th. The student in me died post that so I wasn't able to clear my first semester, I wasn't able to.. you know just-" she shrugged, continuing," passed my second with 48% and scored 57% in third! " Her dark eyes were sparkling with joy, visibly proud of her journey.

Umair smiled, "I'm impressed. You kept improving; unlike your tutor." He held back his chuckle.

" I know but I still like to be grounded." She played humble.

" All these years, and nothing has changed. "

" Not everyone is Umair Mirza. "

" And how have I changed exactly? " He was curious after her repeated remarks to him.

" Everything. In every way. You have grown tall since the last time I saw you-"

" That was seven years back or more. I was of the same height. I stopped growing after 17. Next. "

" Oh wait! " She corrected herself," I mean, you seem short. Your hair used to add AT LEAST 3-4 inches to your height. "

" I cannot always adorn my afro curls, you see, Humaira." He pressed his lips into a thin line, flashing a forced smile.

" Why? You didn't go corporate, you're not a professor -"

" BUT a lecturer. And a brilliant one. With 4 years of experience. "

" I get it, you're old. " She sounded bored.

" Actually I'm the youngest in my team. " He informed. Why was he being offended he didn't know.

" Wow. The rest must be ancient then. "

" Are you done with your work Ms. Mir? " Umair used his professional voice to bring her back to their previous environment.

" No, 'cause I was bombarded with questions from a very unprofessional teacher. " She complained.

He shook his head in disappointment," and here I thought you were being wise by interrogating your new tutor. But I see that you have a short-term memory loss situation. That explains your grades even after being a student of my father. "

Umair's comeback made Humaira gasp with her eyes going wide," You-"

He interrupted her yet again, " Uh-uh. Put your finger down, Humaira." He commanded," Don't ever try to do that again. Copy your work. This was just a demo class. We'll start next week. See you." With a crooked smile on his face, he made his exit after informing her of the details.

Humaira fisted her palms near her face, groaning in annoyance," Why him, Baba? "

|~★~|

That was our first chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it.

Please let me know what you guys think of it.

How about the nagging between Saad & Humaira? Her bond with her teacher, Hameed?

And lastly, Humaira and Umair's meet?

Right now it feels that I'm talking to myself and I so wish this changes soon, and I get to hear something from the other side (you) as well.
Being positive!