Short Story Part 6

picture from fakelvis at flickr

"Have a seat Huzir.... Its been awhile since I've talked to you." Said the old man behind the desk. I sat down, smiling, a bitter smile, but still, a smile.

"I've been hearing some rumors about you." He said calmly.

"Yeah well... Its bound to happen here.." I said sarcastically. He shot me a look and a smile.

He was smart, above all else experienced. The 68-year old mentor. My Mentor. When I first came to the company, our first meet and greet, he sat across the table from me as I remained glued to Obama's inaugural speech. As he sat down and said:-

"Oh he won!. The Republicans messed up." as he began to relax a bit on the sofa.

"Well written!" I declared as Obama finished his speech. He turned to me confused. Me grinning like a kid who was just handed a piece of candy turned to him and wiped my smile off as I saw his face.

"What did you say?" He asked

"err... well written?" I hesitated.

"What were you referring to?"

"Obama's speech.... I'm a fan of writing. Particularly speeches and novels, journals are fun too, fiction, non fiction, science fiction, classics, poems, haikus...." As I realized that I was rambling.

I shut up. Too much info for a stranger I assumed. The old man smiled. Warm, fuzzy, father like. I returned his smile.

"How old are you?" he asked

"I'm 24."

"Hahaha that is a very weird hobby for a 24 year old." He said laughing. His whole body shaking like a medium sized Santa.

"I have been told that many times, though I see no real reason for it though."

"What do you mean?" he asked barely stopped smiling.

"I mean, history is almost always written from a broad perspective, which is good, because it allows people to remain unbiased, but sometimes, looking at events through a smaller perspective can change how we look at times. Obama's speech for example, when I listened to it, I am transported to other speeches by Jefferson and Washington who spoke with the same eloquence about freedom, hope, dreams. The view of one person, which later became the ideals of an entire generation."

"Prof. We are ready for you." I was cut off.

Thats when I realized. He was the main man. The person heading the research committee which I was appointed to due to my experience in researching.

He turned to Mr Zarul. Head of Academic and Research Office.

"Looks like we have a talented one here." He said smiling and nodding towards me, indicating to Mr. Zarul he was referring to me.

That was it. That was how I met him. The man who would later take me under his wing, mentor me.

***************************************************

"Is it true?" He said, and yanked me out of the reminiscing.

"I dont know yet."

"Huzir, you have been in this company for quite some time now. It would be a waste to see your hard work be left behind. Starting over takes effort my young friend."

My young friend. Thats what he called me. Never son, never boy but my young friend. It made me feel positively different. He had that effect on me. I was young, bundled with pride of kings, energy of the sun, strength of an ox. But with him, with his intelligence, with his words, my pride was reduced, my sun became moonlike, and my strength remain strong only not as wild.

"I cant stay here anymore. I've lost the fire. What had happened, only happened, because i cracked under pressure. Everyone was so eager to see me fail, it came to a point, that I would gladly give them what they want. Me failing." I said as calmly as possible.

He looked into my eyes as silence ensued for the next few minutes.

"When are you quitting?" He finally asked.

"I dont know for sure yet. All i know is that I'm currently looking for a job."

He looked down. I was devastated. This old man, had taken me in, fatherless and motherless me and taught me everything I know. This man who i had looked up to, respected, admired and dare i say loved. I was devastated, because I was disappointing him.

I stood up and waited for him to stop me. He didnt, which meant, he was done. I walked towards the door and opened it. As i turned around and saw him with his face in his hand while the other hand was holding his glasses. For a moment, just for a moment, I felt the urge to walk towards him and hug him and say "thank you... in a life which i have spent a majority of it without a father, you are the closest thing I found, thank you for everything."

But I didnt, I closed the door behind me, and I walked away.