If I could compress my entire undergraduate experience into just four days, one of them would be that day when I found my face burning hot red. Respectful, yet defiantly unyielding, I walked out of the classroom carrying the kind of rebellion only a privileged teenager can afford, to whom life had not yet truly happened.

It was the sixth semester, October 2009, when I was turned out of class, right in front of eighty students, for not paying due attention. Even worse, I decided never to return to the class again! The details, buried long ago, resurfaced as I came across an autobiography, My Story, by Prof Dr Javed Anwar Aziz.

I opened the book, and a flashback took me straight to my class. Dr Javed carried a quiet authority — dressed in a sober grey suit, polished Cambridge shoes, and a dignified silver watch. His neatly combed, gelled hair and disciplined appearance reflected his precision. Though of medium height, his expressive eyes revealed experience, emotion, and the strictness of a seasoned........

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