-Mr Shaikh , a call from a school, said the secretary into the phone
-give me, replied Sidharth
-Good Morning, Mr Shaikh, I'm Mrs Anindita , the principal and I call you about your son, Salim
-Good Morning Mrs Anindita, what's wrong with Salim ? he asked worried
-He had a fight with one of his classmate and he was punished, Salim shows aggressive behavior toward peers and this is the second time in a month, I'd like to talk to you about him.
-Mrs Anindita, I know well my son, Salim is kind and gentle kid. He may just reply to other who was abusing him, Mrs Anindita, what was the fight about ? He was annoyed, he knew well his son, Salim only replied, he never started, this is what he taught him.
-Mr Shaikh, in my school, we are not teaching to be violent, we are educating them, teaching them good values like respect, sharing, politeness, good manners and we do not tolerate behavior that are not worthy to others and this is for any reason. Both of the kids were punished for their behavior, but I really would like to talk to you, to prevent any other overflow in future.
-Ok, Mrs Anindita, I'm coming, he cutted the call.
Salim was never an expressive kid, but he has a short temper just like his father, Sidharth Ali Shaikh. He raised alone his son since she died giving birth to Salim. From first night alone with his son in his arms, he didn't knew how to do, but he learnt hardly, and he played the role of the mother and the father. At the beginning, Salim didn't feel the need, he was to young to understand, but when he entered the school, all the problem started and he can understand why, seeing his schoolmate with their mother, increased the the emptiness in his heart, losing his mother was more perennial like before.
Salim became quiet and his short tempered was again more pronounced. Sidharth did everything that he can to cheer up his mood, but he can ignore the fact that Salim needed a mother or at least an image of a mother. He thought that talking about Ayat, his mother, he will help him, kids used to love to dream, but Salim was not a dreamer, he always chose to ignore this discussion and leave. Sidharth felt helpless with the sadness of his son. He tried to never shout on him, instead of he always do anything to please him, but it seemed that no gift, or money or even him was enough.
He came to the school, he breathed deeply and saw the principal on the door :
-Mr Shaikh, she shook his hand
-Mrs Anindita, he replied politely
-I want you firstly to talk to him and to his teacher and then we will talk together. He just nodded, let me accompagnied you.
Sidharth entered the room and saw Salim, sitting, alone on his chair, balancing his feet, with his small arms on his chest, looking really grumpy. He entered and sat in front of him :
-hey champ, what's wrong ? He rubbed his hair softly
-nothing abbu, he started and I just replied, he resumed briefly the scene
Sidharth took Salim's face in his hand and scanned it, he didn't see any strong bruise, just the collar of his shirt was ripped and some buttons were missing. Sidharth taught Salim how to fight and he knew that his son was good in it. He knew that it's not good to teach this kind of things to a kid, if Ayat was here, she would have been mad at him, but she wasn't and he only gave him the lesson necessary for his future and his defense.
-Salim, what happened ? Sidharth asked softly
-Mr Shaikh, came a melodious voice from behind
Sidharth turned to face and he froze for a second, he felt petrified. He blinked two times. He stopped to breath for a second. In front of him, stood a beautiful woman looking simply but so beautiful, something in her eyes and smile has electrified him in his place, he didn't move from inch, a stupid smile appeared on his face looking at her. He felt himself drooling shamelessly, he didn't feel this for any women for ages, this feelings were your heart was almost dead but nevertheless alive.
