My Dreaded English Teacher (standard:non fiction, 734 words)
Author: Juggernaut	Added: Jun 24 2012	Views/Reads: 2696/1770	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Mr. Purshotham was English teacher at a Agricultural school, he took his job very seriously to a point it was detrimental; less learned and more harm from his tough grading. Juggernaut still gets nightmares thinking about his courses almost 4 decades ago.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


complete Nicholas Nickleby; he made impressions changing accent 

accordingly to suit each character, the students heard more about 

Charles Dickens, the author of Nicholas Nickleby than the characters in 

the novel.  “Perhaps Dickens had this in mind when he wrote this line,” 

he would say when Purshotham finish reading a paragraph.  Mr. 

Purshotham discussed Thomas Hardy's “The Mayor of Casterbridge,” with 

so much passion some students really fell ill.  When it came to works 

of Somerset Maugham, the students had enough from Mr. Purshotham. “For 

crying out loud we came here to get training in farming practices not 

majoring in English,” thought Juggernaut sitting in the last row. 

After getting C twice, Juggernaut had enough from Mr. 

Purshotham, he thought Purshotham was going too far with his tough 

grading and decided to ambush him in his own game.  Juggernaut got 

lucky and found few glaring grammatical mistakes in a handout 

Purshotham gave to the students, when Juggernaut pointed out, he was 

embarrassed and asked “what grade you got in previous 

semesters?”  “Sir, because of your kindness, I got two Cs that screwed 

up my GPA so far,” replied Juggernaut.  “Well, expect an improvement 

this semester,” said Purshotham twitching his thin mustache. 

“There he was, stop him, I denounce you Purshotham for 

screwing up my GPA, you and your Queen's English go to hell,” shouted 

Juggernaut loudly watching an old man walking in front at a distance in 

the daily market, he was carrying a small burlap sack of vegetables 

with long Snake Gourds hanging out from the mouth of the sack as if 

they may jump out of the bag anytime. 

“Get up Juggernaut, you were day dreaming again, you had too 

much Turkey for lunch, slept as if somebody knocked you down,” his 

brother Paramesar tried to wake up Juggernaut from his afternoon nap. 


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