“Good morning, sir,” Aidan greeted Mr. Razak as he entered the teacher’s room.
Mr. Razak returned the greeting with a warm smile. “Good morning, Aidan. How can I help you today?”
Aidan took a deep breath, his nerves palpable. “I want to return this brush that you gave me yesterday.” He pulled out the brush from his backpack and handed it to Mr. Razak.
Mr. Razak’s smile faltered, and a concerned frown replaced it as he examined the brush. “Why, Aidan? Is there something wrong with the gift? Is it broken?” he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.
Aidan remained silent, his anxiety making it difficult to find the right words.
“Please, Aidan, if there’s a problem, tell me. If you don’t want to share, I won’t accept this brush back,” Mr. Razak said, his tone gentle but insistent.
Aidan hesitated, feeling the weight of his mother’s demands versus his own desires. Despite his internal conflict, he remained quiet. Mr. Razak’s concern was evident; his gaze held a deep, caring expression.
“Never mind, sir. I’m fine,” Aidan said, trying to dismiss the issue, though his guilt and reluctance were apparent. He truly cherished the brush, especially with its magical qualities, but he was torn between his own wishes and his mother’s strict orders.
“Aidan, please tell me the truth. I don’t like my students to lie,” Mr. Razak urged, his voice softer but firm.
Aidan felt a lump in his throat. The brush was his first and only magical one, something he had never owned before. He wanted to keep it, but his mother’s authority loomed large. He had to follow her instructions, despite his personal feelings.
Suddenly, Mr. Razak stood up from his chair, walked over to Aidan, and gently took his hand. “Come in and have a seat,” he said, guiding Aidan to a chair in his office. “Please, tell me everything. I’m here to listen.”
Reluctantly, Aidan sat down, holding the brush tightly. Mr. Razak’s expression softened, his frown replaced by a look of understanding and empathy. He seemed to sense Aidan’s internal struggle.
“I... I want to stop drawing,” Aidan finally said, his voice trembling.
Mr. Razak looked at him with concern. “Why, Aidan? Don’t you want to be an artist? Have you forgotten your dreams?”
Aidan shook his head, his eyes downcast. “No, sir, I haven’t forgotten. I love drawing. But my family doesn’t want me to pursue it. They want me to become a doctor.”
Mr. Razak’s expression became thoughtful. He understood the societal pressures that many families placed on their children, often prioritizing stable and high-paying careers over personal passions. He knew that in Malaysia, professions like doctors and lawyers were highly esteemed, with the media often glorifying these roles as the pinnacle of success.
“I understand, Aidan,” Mr. Razak said, his voice steady and reassuring. “But you need to consider your own happiness too. It’s important to pursue what you love, even if it means going against your family’s wishes.”
Aidan listened intently. He was deeply moved by Mr. Razak’s words. The conflict between his dreams and his mother’s expectations weighed heavily on him.
“Sometimes, our families want what they think is best for us, but it’s crucial to follow your own path. You shouldn’t live a life that doesn’t fulfill you, just to meet others’ expectations,” Mr. Razak continued. “This is about your future, Aidan. Don’t let anyone else’s dreams overshadow your own.”
Aidan sat quietly, absorbing Mr. Razak’s advice. The realization that his dreams were valid and worth fighting for began to sink in. Mr. Razak’s encouragement provided a glimmer of hope, even as Aidan felt the heavy burden of his family’s expectations.
“I won’t force you to pursue art if you don’t want to,” Mr. Razak said. “But remember, I once faced a similar crossroads. I chose to follow my passion for teaching because it brought me joy and fulfillment. Like you, Aidan, I found happiness in pursuing what I loved.”
Mr. Razak’s words resonated deeply with Aidan. The thought of following his passion, despite the challenges, was both comforting and daunting. The encouragement from someone he admired made him reconsider his stance.
“You don’t have to make any hasty decisions,” Mr. Razak added gently. “Keep the brush. I gave it to you, and it’s yours to keep.”
Aidan looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude and confusion. “Thank you, sir,” he said, his voice filled with emotion.
Mr. Razak smiled warmly and gave Aidan a reassuring nod. “Take good care of that brush, Aidan. It’s a symbol of your talent and potential.”
Aidan nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. He stood up from the chair, thanked Mr. Razak again, and turned to leave the teacher’s room. As he walked out, he glanced back at Mr. Razak, who gave him a thumbs-up and a reassuring smile.
“Take care, Aidan,” Mr. Razak said, his voice filled with encouragement.
Aidan walked towards his classroom, holding the brush tightly in his hand. He knew he had a tough decision to make, but for now, he was grateful for Mr. Razak’s support and understanding. The magical brush remained a symbol of hope and possibility, a reminder of his dreams and the courage to follow them.
As Aidan entered his classroom, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Though the road ahead was uncertain, he was determined to find a way to balance his dreams with his family’s expectations. For now, he would cherish the magical brush and the encouragement it represented, holding onto the hope that one day he could pursue his passion without compromise.