Chapter 1

For the fourth time, Mrs. Samantha Richards stared at the boy sitting on the first chair in the second row by the window. With complete

disregard for the class, he was busy staring out of the window. From time to time he would look at Mrs. Richards, and then turn back to the view from the window. This was her first day as biology teacher at one of the international schools in Islamabad. She was a diplomat‘s wife and a teacher by profession. They had recently arrived in Islamabad. At all her husband‘s postings, she had taken up teaching assignments in the schools attached to the embassy. Continuing the syllabus and teaching schedule of her predecessor Ms.Mariam, after a brief introduction to the class Mrs Richards began

explaining the function of the heart and the circulation system and drew a diagram on the board.bShe looked at the student who was looking distractedly out of the window and, using a time-worn technique, she fixed her gaze on him and stopped speaking. A hush fell over the class. The boy turned back to

the class. Meeting his gaze, Mrs. Richards smiled and resumed her lecture. For a while she continued to keep her gaze on the boy who was now busy writing in his notebook. Then she turned her attention to the

class. She believed the boy was embarrassed enough not to let his attention wander, but just a couple of minutes later she found him looking out of the window again. Once more, she stopped her lecture, and he turned to

look at her. This time she did not smile. She continued addressing the class. As she turned to the writing board, the student again turned to the window. A look of annoyance crossed her face and as she fell silent again, the boy looked at her with a frown, and looked away—beyond the window.

His attitude was so insulting that Mrs. Samantha Richards’s face flushed.

̳Salar, what are you looking at?‘ she asked sternly.

̳Nothing,‘ came The one word reply. He gave her a piercing look.

̳Do you know what I am teaching?‘

̳Hope so.‘ His tone was so rude that

Samantha Richards capped the

Marker she had in her hand and slapped it down on the table.

̳If that is so, then come up here and draw and label this diagram.‘

She erased the figure on the board. The boy‘s face changed a myriad colors. She saw the students in the class exchange glances. The boy stared coldly at Samantha Richards. As she cleaned the last trace of her diagram from the board, he left his seat. Moving swiftly, he picked up the marker from the table and with lightning speed—in exactly two

minutes and fifty-seven seconds—he had drawn and labeled the diagram. Replacing the cap on the marker, he slapped it down on the

table just as Mrs. Richards had done, and, without looking at her, returned to his seat.

Mrs. Richards did not see him tossing down the marker or walking back to his seat. She was looking in disbelief at the diagram—which had taken her ten minutes to make—and which he had completed in less than three minutes. It was far better than her work: she could not find even a minor flaw in it. Somewhat embarrassed, she turned to look at

the boy. Once again he was looking out of the window.

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