Dear
Arzoo closed her eyes and said quickly, “Professor… I really like you… could you please, please
also…”
She finally said it and felt a strange relief. She was still alive, but her eyes were shut. No sound
came, so she slowly opened them and saw Faraz staring at her quietly — then suddenly bursting
into wild laughter.
Arzoo was confused; she thought to herself, Is he happy? He can’t believe I like him?
The laughter stopped abruptly, and in a split second Faraz’s face hardened. He stood up from
behind his desk and shouted, “What’s wrong with you students? Why are you all becoming so
unethical? Just because someone laughs at you, you start imagining things? I thought with that
innocent look you only cared about studying, but I was completely wrong. What happened? I
answered a few of your questions and smiled at you twice, and you thought I liked you?”
Arzoo panicked, grabbed the sides of her coat, and stammered, “I… I just…”
Faraz snapped, “I what? I what? What did you think? That I, Faraz Tahmasbi, would like a girl
who’s my student? And who? Someone like you? You only look innocent… The moment I saw
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you somewhere you shouldn’t have been, it was clear what kind of girl you are. Get out of my
office and don’t let me see you again. Leave before I call security.”
He walked to the door and flung it open. Arzoo couldn’t stand up from the chair. Faraz grabbed
her sleeve, dragged her toward the door, and shoved her out violently. Arzoo fell into the hallway,
and her book — now slightly torn — was thrown beside her.
Arzoo stared blankly at Faraz, who was glaring at her with his eyebrows knotted. Voices echoed in her head, and images flashed quickly before her eyes.
“My hardworking student, what question do you have for me today? Come in, dear, let me see what you want to ask…”
So that warm, kind smile and those “dear”s from the professor meant nothing?
The next scene was the classroom. Her classmate raised her hand and asked a question. The professor smiled at her too and said: “No, dear, don’t misunderstand — this poem doesn’t mean that.”
Dear. The word echoed in her head.
He smiled at all the students. He answered all their questions. So why hadn’t she noticed? Why had she drowned in her own fantasies, imagining over and over that her young professor looked into her eyes and confessed his feelings for Arzoo?
Today she had gathered all her courage to confess. To taste the sweetness of love.
And now her young professor was staring at her with anger and humiliation.
This scene was real. Not her girlish pink fantasy.
Now that the truth had exposed itself so brutally, Arzoo couldn’t bear it. With a whispered “impossible,” she closed her eyes and collapsed to the floor.
