Chapter 3

Veeresh Raj leaned casually against the corridor wall, his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the classroom door. The chatter of students outside faded into background noise as he watched the scene unfold inside.

There she was—Poornima Rai, standing at the front of her literature class, her simple white kurta glowing in the morning light. She moved with ease, her gestures natural, her voice carrying warmth and enthusiasm that filled the room. Every word she spoke seemed alive, every idea she shared painting pictures in the minds of her students.

She wasn’t just teaching; she was enjoying it. The joy on her face was unmissable, a quiet brilliance that made even the most distracted students sit up straighter. Veeresh could see it in the way they responded—eager hands rose, eyes sparkled, laughter and thoughtful murmurs punctuated the lesson.

“Ma’am, this is the best literature class I’ve ever had!” one student exclaimed, eyes shining.

Poornima’s face lit up with a gentle smile. “Thank you,” she said softly, almost humbly, yet the warmth in her eyes spoke volumes. It wasn’t arrogance or pride—it was pure happiness in sharing her world with others.

Veeresh’s gaze lingered longer than he expected. There was something magnetic about the way she carried herself—so simple, so unassuming, yet radiating strength, passion, and brilliance all at once.

For the first time in a long while, Veeresh felt a curiosity he couldn’t easily dismiss. This wasn’t just admiration for a fellow professor. There was something deeper stirring inside him—a spark, subtle yet undeniable, that made him want to know more about this woman who could command a classroom without ever raising her voice in authority.

And as Poornima laughed at a student’s comment, completely immersed in her class, Veeresh silently acknowledged it: this was someone extraordinary, someone who belonged to a world entirely her own—but someone he was suddenly very interested in understanding