The Mystery Man

Let me introduce you to the Mystery Man.

I don’t know him. Or anything about him.

I only see him.

I think he must be around 70–years-old.

Why is his age more important than any of his other description?

Because I see him in my class.

And in my part of the world, where getting over 60 is automatically assumed as an age to rest on your laurels, the Mystery Man is there to learn something new.

To learn something completely alien.

Something complex and draining — even for us, the “young” ones.

He is here to learn 3D designing.

And I see him drawing 3D cubes. Everyday.

Mystery Man is lean, almost sickly. His skin is wrinkled. And he is dressed in the most mundane of ways you can imagine.

His eyes, though. They are so… rich. Satisfied. Happy.

But I do wonder who else are there in his family. Because, in our culture, the norm is that when a person grows old, his children take all his responsibility. They tend to all his needs.

So, does he even have anyone else in the family? His children? Wife? Is it just a hunger for knowledge that brings him here?

Every day, I want to talk to him. To know his story. To know his inspiration. To know his drive. And I want to thank him for instilling in me a newfound determination, confidence and a true motivation.

But, somehow, I can’t.

All I do is watch him.

Watch him squint his eyes at the computer screen as his mouse-pointer hovers over the tiny-little buttons on the computer screen.

Watch him frequently adjust his spectacles, and smack his lips with an unhurried dedication for building a cube!

Each day, I watch him struggle. Each day, I watch him triumph.