“Hi N! How are you doing?” I asked on the phone.

N was happy to receive my call after so many years. She was one year my junior in college and both of us had been highly impressed and influenced by a lecturer of ours who was now a senior professor at the prestigious university where we both had studied. N and I were fond of each other since college days and the fact that we had been mentored by the same teacher strengthened this bond.

“How are you and the kids?” I asked.

“We’re all doing well,” she answered.

It was almost ten years later that we were reconnecting on phone. We had been seeing each other on social media. Life had changed a lot for both of us. While I was now teaching at a university, N was happily married and was nurturing her two children.

Our mentor, Prof. Anuya Khanna as she was known, was a shining star in her discipline. Petite in appearance with a thick mop of black and grey hair that she braided every day, she walked in confidently through the college gate after parking her car. As young women in our late teens and early twenties we ogled at her poise and the solitaires that adorned her ears. She exuded great authority as she lectured and mentored the students.

She had never been married but nobody knew the reasons for that. There was a great deal of speculation among the girls on the reasons for why such a good looking, elite and moneyed woman had decided to stay single. Perhaps she had chosen to dedicate her life to attain academic excellence. The educational minded among us literally worshipped her as she was a class-apart from the other professors who lectured in a ‘business as usual’ manner and exited the class with least interest in the development of their students. But she was different. She knew the names of all her students and would personally interact with them to find out their career interests and hobbies. She made sure to goad us with advice on career and academic attainment. The students vied for her attention and to be able to do their dissertations with her.  

In a stagnant higher education environment in a so called “top university” in the country, she appeared to be our saviour, an ‘academic goddess’ who would help us stride ahead in this competitive world. What we all did not know was another side of her character that some of us who worked with her slowly came to understand.

She had the knack to pick up the most dedicated and submissive students to work with her for their projects. She scrutinized our personal lives more than we imagined. She evaluated the emotional and economic status of each of her pupils and knew how much work she could extract from each of us to publish her own books and articles. What we did not realise that she had made each one of us her ‘personal project’ that she had decided to work on separately.

 She would test the patience of each of us by subjecting us to her whims and fancies. She taunted P for having a boyfriend. She taunted K for being plain looking. She told S that she would die of depression and she told D that no man would ever be interested in looking at her.

While the smarter girls immediately backed off and distanced themselves from her, most of us, at a young and impressionable stage in life, did not challenge her vicious personal attacks on our lives and choices. She continued to slave-drive us. We would spend days in her house doing research for her forthcoming books, working late into the night and eating from her kitchen. She spared no opportunity to throw her class-status at our faces. She lived in a big bungalow with a number of helpers who kept the supply of food and beverages flowing as we worked like mules.

And then there were her parties. She would host a big party once in six months and invite almost a hundred people and entertain them with food and drinks. Those were the moments when her students turned into entertainers to sing and dance to impress her wealthy guests. Our academic and social lives began to completely revolve around Ms Khanna and her whims. Our parents were flummoxed at the lack of time we had and wondered when we would be able to make some time for them and the family. They however put up with our erratic schedules uncomplainingly as they believed we were being moulded into better human beings and professionals by our able mentor at her house. She had impressed all our parents by her outstanding oratory skills.

“So N are you in touch with Ms Khanna?” I asked.

“No I am not,” she replied. “In fact none of us is,” she added.

“Did you meet her?” N asked.

“Well yes I did last night after 5 years,” I answered back.

I had gone abroad to complete my doctoral studies and many of the girls in our group also got opportunities to step out of the country to pursue higher studies. This had changed our perspective on education. None of us met professors like Ms. Khanna who were meddling in the personal lives of their pupils or holding them up like emotional prisoners in their cages.

“How was the meeting?” asked N.

“Oh it was terrible.” I answered.

“I had gone to see her for old times’ sake. But she was so nasty towards me. I told her I am having some issues in my marital life and she branded me as a loser, a failure who will have issues with people in general and at work as well. She said I needed to see a psychiatrist as soon as possible.”

“What?” exclaimed N.

“Yes, I have decided to distance myself from her and never see her again” I told N.

“Good riddance! I am glad you finally realised this and took this decision,” she said. “The farther she is from your life the happier you will be,” she added.

I hung up the phone reflecting on what my sensible junior had just advised me. I wished I had called her a day before.