She was born to a dead mother of one, and in a family once of four.
The skies rejoiced and it poured cats and dogs. Perhaps, the sign was brutally misread and she was chucked away. To a dustbin. For a rag picker.
She groaned all night and tears bubbled into hiccups. But Delhi was too deaf to pay head, inside the air-conditioned rooms of a typical humid June night. A few dogs sniffed but none bit. Humanity is not necessarily to be found in Humans, right?
She was supposed to die and ‘rest in peace’ (quite literally) but the sins committed in the last few births were too grave to be easily forgiven. Breathing shivered and jerked but did not stop.
Sun grew the next morning. From the usual East.
The rag picker was on duty. Earlier than usual.
The guy who managed crossing the ‘highly-under-surveillance’ border between India and Bangladesh was indeed bad at deeds but not at heart. His eyes swelled and some salty water trickled. Chills ran down his spine. Not everyone can bear the sight of an almost dead baby girl.
The decision was instantly taken and never altered. The girl now had a home.
The man who could not afford his bread would now breed an abandoned baby. A baby girl.
Savings were drained and loans taken but all medications timely met and necessities provided.
~~~
Mannat was an extremely brilliant child. ‘Child prodigy’ as the well-read quoted.
The dusky, brown-eyed was sent to a usual inferior Government school due to the obvious. Yes, she did bunk school at times faking a paining tummy; would also get after her Abbu’s life to take her along to the posh colonies where he went rag-picking but Abbu would never fulfil the desire.
Her princess would get all what she wants, sooner or later, but not THIS, Abbu used to assure himself.
Suns kept setting and bright mornings occurring, but never was a morning this bright.
Mannat was transferred to a Convent school on insistence of her teacher –who quite literally- envied the genius.
It did not take her innocent eyes to switch between questions like ‘How did I come to this world’ and ‘Abbu, will I succeed in becoming a Physicist?’’
The former questions were neatly ignored and the latter, crisply answered.
~~~
Present Day:
Mannat Khan did change her name from Mannat to Physicist Mannat Khan, and did earn enough to gift her 72 year old still-working-Abbu a mansion.
The girl, did kiss the sky.
Perhaps, far away an angry father whipped his lazy, jobless son for not being like the noble prize winner, Physicist Mannat Khan.
He cursed his stars for not blessing him with a child like Mannat.
The stars cursed back for abandoning the same a few years ago.
The skies rejoiced and it poured cats and dogs. Perhaps, the sign was brutally misread and she was chucked away. To a dustbin. For a rag picker.
She groaned all night and tears bubbled into hiccups. But Delhi was too deaf to pay head, inside the air-conditioned rooms of a typical humid June night. A few dogs sniffed but none bit. Humanity is not necessarily to be found in Humans, right?
She was supposed to die and ‘rest in peace’ (quite literally) but the sins committed in the last few births were too grave to be easily forgiven. Breathing shivered and jerked but did not stop.
Sun grew the next morning. From the usual East.
The rag picker was on duty. Earlier than usual.
The guy who managed crossing the ‘highly-under-surveillance’ border between India and Bangladesh was indeed bad at deeds but not at heart. His eyes swelled and some salty water trickled. Chills ran down his spine. Not everyone can bear the sight of an almost dead baby girl.
The decision was instantly taken and never altered. The girl now had a home.
The man who could not afford his bread would now breed an abandoned baby. A baby girl.
Savings were drained and loans taken but all medications timely met and necessities provided.
~~~
Mannat was an extremely brilliant child. ‘Child prodigy’ as the well-read quoted.
The dusky, brown-eyed was sent to a usual inferior Government school due to the obvious. Yes, she did bunk school at times faking a paining tummy; would also get after her Abbu’s life to take her along to the posh colonies where he went rag-picking but Abbu would never fulfil the desire.
Her princess would get all what she wants, sooner or later, but not THIS, Abbu used to assure himself.
Suns kept setting and bright mornings occurring, but never was a morning this bright.
Mannat was transferred to a Convent school on insistence of her teacher –who quite literally- envied the genius.
It did not take her innocent eyes to switch between questions like ‘How did I come to this world’ and ‘Abbu, will I succeed in becoming a Physicist?’’
The former questions were neatly ignored and the latter, crisply answered.
~~~
Present Day:
Mannat Khan did change her name from Mannat to Physicist Mannat Khan, and did earn enough to gift her 72 year old still-working-Abbu a mansion.
The girl, did kiss the sky.
Perhaps, far away an angry father whipped his lazy, jobless son for not being like the noble prize winner, Physicist Mannat Khan.
He cursed his stars for not blessing him with a child like Mannat.
The stars cursed back for abandoning the same a few years ago.
