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Zain found grasping the world of finance very difficult. He was still trying to transition to living in a home other than a cave. The rural and underdeveloped place where he had grown up was far from the bustling city of Zurich. While the guardians he lived with were elderly and staunchly-religious Pakistanis, he was surrounded by mostly fair-haired and blue-eyed Swiss with whom he shared few commonalities. He felt more out of place when his three-piece suits elicited stares and laughter from his classmates. Zain’s extreme brilliance was the only thing he had going for him. With few social distractions, Zain devoted his time to immersing himself in his studies. The ramping up process was the hard part.
In spite of his high IQ, learning the complexity of business concepts, business math, and the rules governing banking took a toll on him. It wasn’t until his third year that he fell into a groove. Finally, something in his brain clicked and everything began to make sense. The numbers, formulas and concepts finally came together like a painter’s masterpiece might suddenly pour forth from an artist’s brush.
He experienced other changes in this third year. He quit wearing his suit coat and tie. He opted to roll up his dress shirt’s sleeves. He purchased the college’s team hoody and wore it to class. By far the most significant transformation had little to do with apparel. He met a beautiful Swiss woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. She caused Zain to feel things he had never felt for any girl. Was it love? Maybe, or something close to it.
Neither his father nor his guardians would ever approve of this woman. It was the classic Romeo and Juliet version of a Pakistani romance gone awry. She was from a little town named Sion located in southern Switzerland, and shared a little house near school with three other girls who also lived far from home. Zain began spending more time with her at school and in her bedroom. Still, his relationship with her never affected his grades. He wouldn’t allow that.
If his father had ever visited, he would have reminded Zain that the Quran disapproved of promiscuity. He would have quoted several verses referring to unlawful sexual intercourse, including one that prescribes the punishment of 100 lashes to fornicators. Zain hadn’t seen anyone in the city walking around with a whip. And given that most Muslims he met engaged in sexual relations, Zain didn’t dwell on his indiscretions.
His father and his brother never came to visit him in Zurich. He occasionally got a quick note from Naveed. Their lives were dramatically different. Farwan had stayed in touch with his son in the form of periodic handwritten letters in which he stressed the importance for Zain to perform well academically because his father had a plan for him once he graduated; Zain was relatively certain that his father’s plan didn’t include a plus one.
Zain did his best to sow his wild oats before he graduated, knowing full well he would need to leave the love of his life behind in Switzerland when his studies had concluded. His Swiss girlfriend told Zain she loved him, but he never said those words back to her. He wished to spare her feelings.