A sequel to "Met by destiny." Could be read as stand alone.
"What is written in your destiny, will be yours. What belongs in your heart, will forever be yours."
M I N A H I L S I D D Q U E
A girl living in dreams and books, who's life is surroun...
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The old man sitting across from me stares me with a pinning look before removing his glasses.
"Guess the formalities doesn't bother you." He gestures at the mess of colourful flowers wrapped in front of me.
I spare a glance at the mess before merely giving a shrug.
"Just direct me to my class." I say flatly.
"I-" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head, "Thought we could do a little welcome of our new young lecturer, but I guess Mr. Zawaar you don't mind."
I stare at him, giving no response.
"You know you being a student of this college and then teaching here, thought I could— why am I still trying?" He sighs looking at me.
"My class." I repeat.
He picks up a printed paper next to him and slides it towards me.
Wasn't that hard.
I pick up the paper and scan my schedule for the whole week.
"Does schedules change?" I ask.
"Not necessarily no." He replies.
"Fine." I tuck the paper in one of my reference books and stand up from the leather seat.
"All the best for your first day Mr. Zawaar." Principal Ramazan says.
In my batch all the boys used to make fun of his name and referred his bald head as a moon.
Cruel I know.
I give him a curt nod before exiting his office and going to class according to my schedule.
Upon reaching the second floor, I see my classroom and walk towards it, pushing open the door, a blanket of silence fell over the chatty classroom as I walk inside, placing my books on the lectern.
I watch for a moment, students watch me agape mouths as I pick up a marker and walk towards the centre of the stage.
"My name is Hasnain Iqbal Zawaar." I announce in the quiet class, "You all may call me professor zawaar and nothing else. I-" I stopped short hearing the sound of faint whispering and giggles.
Silence rang in the class as I stare at everyone, my eyes stop at a girl who kept twirling her hair around her fingers, whispering something to her friends. I snap my fingers at her, startling her.
