Mr Khan

We found Mr. Khan at one of the many decked-out dinner tables. Fortunately for us, he was so immersed in his booklet of sudokus that he did not notice Joey contently scooping out a massive tub of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream. The chocolate part had hardly been touched, so it was clear to me which flavours Joey preferred.

I had not taken Joey’s example and had instead chosen a healthy sandwich with cheese, cucumber, tomato and basil. During my preparation of the sandwich in the kitchen, Joey had looked at me weirdly. “Seriously, Simon? You could have taken anything out of that fridge and you went with two pathetic slices of bread and some sad veggies?”

“I like healthy food, Burgundy,” I had sassily replied while chopping up a tomato. “Besides, not everyone can eat whatever they want whenever they want because their hyperactive metabolism makes carbs and sugars magically disappear.” I glared at him.

“Oof Fisher, do I hear some salt there? What have carbs and sugars ever done to you?” He had sarcastically questioned in turn.

“Nothing yet,” I had answered while putting together my sandwich. “But they will when I grow older. As a dancer, I need to watch my food intake. It has a big effect on my energy, weight and performance and will become increasingly important as the years go by.”

“Fair enough.” Joey had given up trying to convert me to his church of unhealthy foodstuff. He continued to look at me. “But, um, don’t forget to live a little every once in a while,” he added.

“No worries, I won’t forget,” I had replied with a big smile. Joey caring about me in this way, even though we had only started hanging out again yesterday, was incredibly endearing. I secretly hoped it would last for a very long time.

We sat down at the same table as Mr Khan, as Ms Applebloom had instructed us to do. He looked up at us and, miraculously enough, did not notice Joey’s odd lunch. “Well, look at you two.” His friendly smile deepened the wrinkles in his toned skin. “Seems like you have finally called a truce.”

Mr Khan was the kindest teacher I had ever met. Scrap that; one of the kindest people I had ever met. His eyes were filled with wisdom he had acquired during his lifetime and he would always listen to both sides of an argument. The man was brilliant and we could always tell he had come up with an amazing idea whenever we saw the twitch of his meticulously kept moustache. However, most of all, he was extremely soft-natured and compassionate.

While his kind and calm nature certainly had its downsides, it was also his biggest strength. He was always able to see someone’s potential and although he had never directly done anything to stop the bullying I experienced, he would always make time for me if I wanted to talk.

He had once told me: “This is not a problem I can solve for you, Simon. If you do not stand up for yourself, you will be bullied for the rest of your life by people who think of you as lesser than them. However, if you ever need a break or need a chat, my room is always open for you.”

I was inclined to take his advice because although he hardly ever talked about it, Mr Khan’s life had never been easy. There were many theories floating around on our school grounds pertaining to his past, but I did not need to hear them to believe our compassionate mathematics teacher had gone through a lot.

Don’t get me wrong; I was just as curious as the other students, but the sudden glimpses of grief I sometimes caught in his eyes always reminded me that I had no right to know about his past. Furthermore, whenever his hands would start to shake like the hands of a man who’s cut himself on the shards of his broken hopes and dreams one too many times, I knew that -maybe- it was better if I knew nothing about all the horrible things that had happened to him. That way, I would be able to appreciate him as the wonderful person he was right now, not the broken man he had been in the past.

“How was your jog, boys?” He asked us while finishing another row of his puzzle. He took his time, slowly shifting position so he could face us while he talked to us.

“It was fun!” Joey answered enthusiastically before I could say anything. He did not do a good job of hiding the fact he was devouring an entire tub of ice cream on his own, but Mr Khan did not seem to mind.

I added, after swallowing a bite of my sandwich: “Yes, and after lunch, we are going to ice skate on the lake.”

Mr Khan looked concerned. “I will not stop you, but be careful. The temperature outside has been higher than expected, so the ice may be weaker than yesterday. Don’t come near spots in the ice that look wet or thin, or else you might fall through.”

Joey replied responsibly: “We’ll watch out, sir.”

After we had finished our lunch, we said goodbye to our teacher and once again headed to the lake. His wise eyes followed us with a worried look until we were out of sight.