Anurag Sir almost kicked the infirmary door open.
He rushed inside, carrying Sneha in his arms—lifeless, breathless, lying like a fallen bird. Unconscious, limp, her head tilted to one side, sweat trickling down her forehead.
Only panic filled Sir's eyes—a silent, helpless terror. As if one more moment of delay would mean the end of everything.
"Where's the bed? Quickly!" There was a tremor like shortness of breath in Sir's voice. Before the nurse could say anything, he laid Sneha gently on the bed.
While placing her on the cot, Anurag Sir shouted, "She has hypoglycemia! Quickly, something sweet—sugar, glucose… anything, fast!"
"Open your eyes, Sneha! I'm here. Nothing will happen. Please…"
Sir touched her cheek softly, his voice so helpless that the nurse paused for a moment.
The nurse glanced at Sir's face—his eyes were moist, lips trembling. Teachers don't usually behave this way for a student. No one's voice shakes like that unless something deep inside is stirring.
"Hurry!" His voice quivered, "She has hypoglycemia… please do something fast," Sir said with a nearly trembling voice.
The nurse was startled; she had rarely seen such intense worry in a teacher's eyes. "Sir, please control yourself, I'm looking after her."
The nurse quickly brought out glucose water and applied a spoonful of sugar to Sneha's lips. But her lips were tight, teeth clenched—opening her mouth wasn't easy.
Sneha's lips began turning bluish. Her breath was nearly invisible. Her mouth wouldn't open even a bit. The nurse said, a bit frustrated, "Sir, I can't get her to open her mouth… I don't know what to do."
Anurag Sir stared at Sneha's face for a moment. Then, with a strange calmness, he stepped forward.
He took the glucose water from the nurse's hand, touched it gently to her lips as if sensing its warmth. Then, with trembling hands, he held Sneha's cheek and said,
"Sneha, hold on a little. I'm here. Nothing will happen…"
He took a cotton swab soaked in glucose and gently rubbed it inside Sneha's cheek—along the buccal mucosa. No need to open her mouth; glucose absorbed through the cheek lining would slowly enter her bloodstream. He kept rubbing carefully, repeatedly.
After a while, movement appeared on Sneha's lips.
"Her lips are moving!" the nurse said, a flicker of relief in her eyes.
Anurag Sir again rubbed the glucose-soaked cotton inside her cheek. He took a little sugar on his finger and touched it to her lips. This time, Sneha's lips parted slightly, creating a small gap between her teeth.
"She's opening her mouth… that's a good sign," the nurse said.
Now, Sir took a little glucose water on a spoon and slowly touched it to Sneha's lips, so she could swallow little by little. Some movement was visible in her throat—she could swallow—hope flickered.
The room was silent, yet inside, a powerful pulse was beating. A trace of hope appeared in Anurag Sir's eyes. The nurse looked at him and silently admitted to herself—this teacher does more than just teach; he understands people. He understands deeply.
A little later, Sneha's finger twitched. Anurag Sir suddenly leaned forward and said,
"You? Can you hear me?"
Sneha slowly opened her eyes, as if returning from a long distance. Her vision was blurry, but a warm feeling spread across her face.
As soon as she opened her eyes, Sneha was astonished to see Anurag Sir sitting right in front of her—the prince of all the girls at school. She had never before had the fortune to see Sir this close.
Seeing Sir up close really felt even better. He looked even more handsome.
His face held a quiet calmness, his eyes showed kindness, and his entire expression radiated a pure, caring feeling. It seemed Sir was not just a teacher—he was a refuge to rely on.
"Sir…?" Sneha's voice trembled like a frightened child's.
Anurag Sir felt a deep calm settle in his chest.
"I'm here, Sneha… you're okay. Nothing will happen to you," his voice had grown moist.
Sneha said weakly, "I… suddenly couldn't hear anything…"
"Shh… don't say anything. Just rest. Your voice is shaking," Sir took her hand in his and gently squeezed it.
The nurse smiled happily and said,
"You fell in the field. Sir himself carried you here."
Hearing the nurse's words, Sneha's face flushed red with embarrassment. She had fallen in front of everyone, and Sir—Anurag Sir—had picked her up in his arms! Just thinking about it made her heart tremble.
Still, through the veil of shame, a soft feeling slowly began to rise. Something different, something unfamiliar yet pleasant. The thought that Sir cared so much for her spread a strange warmth inside Sneha.
The nurse now looked at Sir with affection in her voice and said, "Sir… you really take good care of her, don't you?"
Sir looked at the nurse, a little bashfully.
Then he slowly nodded and said,
"Well, she's my student… I have to take care of her… What if something happened to her…"
Hearing this, Sneha was enchanted. She felt very good inside.
The nurse smiled and said softly,
"With you here, nothing will happen to her."
Gradually, color started returning to Sneha's face. Her breathing became regular, and her gaze began to clear.
At that moment, the school's madams entered the infirmary.
As soon as the madams came in, Anurag Sir stepped away from Sneha.
"Madam, her stomach was empty," the nurse said. "She was in a state like hypoglycemic shock. Now she's stable but must be kept at complete rest."
Outside, the excitement was still ongoing—not about who came first or last or who ran best, but about Megha's incident.
Inside the infirmary, there was a faint smell of medicine and a quiet tension.
Sneha lay quietly on the infirmary bed. Her face was pale, eyes tired. Around her, the madams whispered and commented. One after another, they crowded around her bedside.
"How can she go on like this?" one madam said, worry etched on her face.
"She doesn't take care of herself at all! What if something serious had happened today?" another madam said sharply.
"If it weren't for Anurag Sir, I don't know what would've happened! The way he carefully carried her, truly!" — in some voices praise, in others concern.
Anurag Sir stood a little away, his eyes fixed on Sneha. Suddenly stepping forward, he quietly asked,
"You always have a snack box in your bag… why didn't you eat anything?"
Sneha's throat was dry, tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't find words to say.
Her face held a mix of embarrassment and helplessness. Her head bowed down.
There was no irritation in Sir's eyes, only a complex look—strictness mixed with deep concern.
He said,
"Why don't you take care of your own body? You've grown so much, don't you have even this little bit of sense?"
Sneha did not startle at the question but curled inward. Her face turned red.
Sir was so close to her, had just touched her and carried her in his arms.
A question flickered inside her mind—how had it felt when Sir's hand rested on her? Then she quickly thought—no, Sir was only worried then, maybe he didn't even have time to think.
Anurag Sir said,
"How do you live your life, Sneha?" His voice was not soft. "You go all day without eating, don't drink water, ignore headaches, and think you're some machine that doesn't need a body?"
Sneha was startled. No one had ever spoken to her like that before.
"You come to school, study, do well—you understand all that. But you don't eat properly even once a day. You have food in your bag, but you don't eat!"
Sir's voice became a bit harsher now. "If you're so careless about your own body, then no one else can help you. How you build yourself at this age lays the foundation for your future. If your body breaks down, what about studies, dreams—all that fails."
Sneha lay with her head down, her face red, biting her lips.
"If, even after growing up so much, you don't understand that taking care of yourself is also a responsibility, then how far will your intelligence get you? One day you'll be in class, the next day lying in the infirmary—what good is studying then?"
After a pause, Sir's voice softened a little,
"I have high hopes for you, you know. But seeing such carelessness toward yourself… it makes me very angry, and also sad."
Tears welled up in the corner of Sneha's eyes. She couldn't say anything.
Sir leaned down a little and said,
"If you don't regain consciousness today…" — he didn't finish the sentence, just looked away. Then slowly stepped back.
"From tomorrow, I'll personally come and check if you're eating properly. And if I see this neglect again—then I won't just talk anymore."
Saying this, Sir left the room. A quiet emptiness settled inside.
Sneha drank water with trembling hands. She knew that behind Sir's anger was a clear mark of care.
But that anger—that care—left a deep impression on her heart.
—To be continued—