He had been very specific about that: the students are excellent. He said it three times in a ten-minute call, which was two times more than it needed to be said.
Naina sat in the staffroom at seven forty-five AM and reviewed the lesson notes left for her — Kavitha Rao's lesson plan for the next four weeks, printed and placed in a folder with Naina's name taped to it. The lesson plan was thorough. Very thorough. It covered each class period with specific page references, discussion questions, assessment notes. It was the lesson plan of a teacher who had been planning this term's work with care and intention. It was not the lesson plan of someone who had been expecting to take personal leave imminently.
You didn't write a four-week lesson plan in detail and then take personal leave the following week.
Naina put this thought in the back of her mind, where she put all thoughts that were potentially useful but not immediately actionable. She finished her tea — the excellent tea of a school that spent money on small things — and went to meet Class 9-B.
The classroom was on the second floor, at the end of a corridor. The door was closed. Through the small window she could see them before they could see her: thirty students, seated, in the specific way of students who had been told to sit properly before the teacher arrived and who were following the instruction with unusual completeness. No one was on their phone. No one was talking. No one was doing the thing that thirty twelve-and-thirteen-year-olds did when left to themselves — produce a manageable level of chaos.
