"Silent Strength: Zeeshan Senior"

A Silent Mentor: My Journey with Zeeshan Senior

The first day I stepped into the grand four-star hotel as a steward, I was nervous, eager, and full of dreams. The atmosphere buzzed with urgency, the clatter of cutlery and hushed conversations of guests blending into the background. Some colleagues were kind, others indifferent, and a few were downright rude. It was a mix of experiences—challenging yet enlightening.

That’s when I met Zeeshan Sir. My senior.

Tall, smart, and always composed, he carried an aura of quiet authority. He rarely smiled, barely spoke more than necessary, but he had an ocean of knowledge—especially about food and spices. His understanding of flavors, textures, and the delicate dance of ingredients was unparalleled. I admired him from the start, though admiration soon turned into frustration.

He never made things easy for me. Complaints from him seemed endless, and at times, it felt like he was purposely making my life difficult. He never lifted a finger to help, and I resented him for it. I fought with him, shouted in frustration, but he never took my anger seriously. He remained unshaken, his calmness only fueling my irritation.

But then, one day, he wasn’t there.

In his absence, I realized the weight of responsibility he had quietly placed on my shoulders. The things he never did weren’t out of laziness, but out of purpose—he had been training me without words, shaping me through experience rather than instruction. Guilt washed over me. The very complaints I once held against him became my greatest lessons.

For a year, I learned under him. Slowly, I transformed—from a hesitant, unsure newcomer into someone who could handle the heat of the F&B world. I walked in as a kitten, but he pushed me to become a tigress.

Zeeshan Sir’s English was flawless, intelligent, and precise. I had always been good at English, but when he spoke, it had weight. It had knowledge. It had authority. He made me crave more—more understanding, more expertise, more refinement. He made me fall in love with the core of food and beverage.

Even today, at 4 PM, I remember him.

He knew how much my junior loved tea, and without a word, he ensured that small, unspoken needs were met. He wasn’t just a senior—he was a guide, a silent protector. He never spoke too much, but when it came to knowledge, he trusted me. He let me take charge, believed in my abilities, and when it truly mattered, he reassured me:

"You will do great."

And those words stayed with me forever.

When it came to incentives and tips, he stood like a father—always fair, never partial. Even if it meant taking a lesser share himself, he made sure everyone got their due. He was never about competition; he was about growth. And because of him, I stayed in the food and beverage industry. Because of him, I kept learning, kept growing, and kept believing in my potential.

Zeeshan Sir, you may never have said much, but your actions spoke louder than words. I will always be grateful to you. Wherever you are, I hope you know—you were not just a senior to me. You were a mentor, a guide, and a silent force that shaped my journey.

Thank you, Zeeshan Senior