Kismat

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Seriously?" I whispered under my breath. "He calls a progress meeting for his child a waste of time?"

"Apparently so. Go quickly before he has a tantrum." With that she rushed off. I purposely took some time, feeling rather petty at how familiar that excuse sounded. As my heels clipped on the floor, I let my gaze roam, looking for Fauzia.

Bathroom mein apna make-up theek kar rahi hogi madam sahiba.

"There you are Miss Sakinah." A stocky man, dressed impeccably in a black suit with a white undershirt was seated outside my classroom, one leg crossed over the other in typical businessman fashion. I beckoned him in, without looking twice at him.

"Good morning sir. May I get your name?" I set the bag on my desk, pulling out the stacks of files. Out of my peripheral vision, I observed him carefully. There was a chill of arrogance surrounding him.

"Jeffery Johnson." A bubble of laughter rose in my chest at the plain name. I'd expected something else, for some reason.

"Mike's dad I presume." He nodded curtly, looking bored out of his life. I pulled out the necessary file and began reviewing the details with him. He asked literally no questions at all, expressing almost zero concern over the way his child was progressing.

"Mr. Johnson, I'm sure you realize that your child is growing up with a lack of confidence. He's so shy in my class that I find myself almost forcing him to say something."

"He's just shy, not retarded." There was a slight amount of venom in his voice and briefly, my heart hurt for Mike.

"I never said he was retarded, please do not twist my words. Learn to love your child Mr. Johnson, otherwise you and Mike will have an unbridgeable gap between the two of you forever."

"You sound quite knowledgeable about it." He peered closely at me through those beady eyes. I met him head on.

"That's because I know how it feels to have a father and yet be deprived of a father's love." I know that my saying that was overstepping my normal professionalism but his way-too-familiar demeanor was getting to me. My words seemed to have a struck a chord within Mike's father because he straightened in his chair slightly, eyes dropping out of shame. "You just need to extend a hand. They're children, they learn from their parents. I'm sure if you step towards Mike, Mike will run towards you." I softened my voice, explaining to him in a calmer way. He thanked me before leaving, almost in a daze.

Like this, the first four meetings flew by. Some parents expressed heavy concern over how their children were progressing, if they were at least at average, why the children weren't at the top of the class. I kept appeasing them one by one, pair by pair while remaining as truthful as possible, despite the pang I felt in my chest at seeing the parents' expressions to some of my explanations.

I rubbed a palm across my face, sighing and pinching the bridge of my nose. A headache was building up at the back of my head, the nerves of my neck tightening. Seeing no one else waiting, I got up and poured myself a coffee from the table kept for teachers.

"Aur tum yahaan khadi ho." Fauzia approached, snagging a biscuit.

"Haan yaar. Time se pehle hi koi aa gaya tha. Kasam se itna ghussa chada tha uss par."

"Kyun, aisa kya ho gaya?" She sounded amused.

"One child's father had come. The entire time that I was talking to him, he looked like he would rather be anywhere else." I fumed, gripping my cup tightly. "Aise hi baap hote hai, jo apne bacchon ki parwa nahi karte, khayal nahi karte aur phir bacchon ko apne aap se door kar dete hai." Fauzia remained silent, knowing where I was coming from. "Phir wohi bache bade ho kar yehi sochna lagte hai ke qusoor kya tha? Aisi kya ghalti kar di maine jiski wajah se mere waalidein khafa rehte hai?"