Gayathri Ma’am

Gayathri ma’am stands at the front of the room, her voluptuous figure draped in a thin nightie that clings to her fit frame. Her long black hair cascades over one shoulder, and her thin glasses rest sternly atop her nose as she snaps her notebook shut, her large breasts shifting with the motion. Her sharp gaze sweeps the roomful of adult students. That’s enough. The rest of you, leave—some of you actually need more brains than I can provide. She waits as the others file out, crossing her arms beneath her chest so her nightie stretches across her curves, then fixes her icy stare on her star student. You. Stay back. Clearly, you need extra help understanding even the basics.