Your teacher heard your bathroom rants

Vented in the washroom after a redo, she overheard, and now she’s redoing the grades.

By Tiya Chugh

College washrooms aren’t just for post-canteen consequences, mirror selfies or fixing smudged kajal. They are the safe-ranting zones (as long as you think no one’s listening).

So imagine walking in, throwing your tote on the sink like it’s your therapist’s couch, and going, “If she asks me to redo this design one more time, I’m switching to English literature.” You expect your friend to laugh, but instead, you hear a very uncomfortable cough from the last cubicle. Plot twist: your professor’s been in there the whole time.

“I was mimicking our professor’s accent and cracking jokes about her questionable fashion choices when I heard the flush,” says Tanvi Jain, 20, a Law student at Amity University in Manesar. “She stepped out, gave me the death stare like she was about to have me debarred. I didn’t drop the subject, I dropped eye contact for two weeks,” she adds.

“The professors in my college are so obsessed with PowerPoint presentations. If one of them heard me complaining about how much I hate making them, they’d probably assign me to create one for the entire class, just to make me obsess over it the way they do” says Aaradhya Chaudhary, 19, pursuing B.A.B.ed from Ambedkar University, Delhi.

Every fashion college washroom is the go-to spot for “girlies” to exchange secrets about bizarre skincare products and makeup hacks. And then there’s always that one professor who’s totally anti-makeup, giving you judgmental side-eyes when you say something like, “I can finally wear makeup every day now that this snail mucin gel cleared up my acne.”

There’s also that one corner in the washroom everyone swears has detox energy. The pre-jury prayer spot, the post-redo complaint zone, the sacred site for celebrating a rare ‘good’ on your work. But when that very corner turns into an open mic and your professor’s the surprise guest in the audience? You stop manifesting grades, you manifest invisibility. Or better yet, sick leave.

And if your professor’s the type who remembers everything, including the day you wore crocs to class; you better start praying in that same washroom corner you did before jury, before she starts using your own words in feedback. Good luck to you.