STORY

The little girl

Usually, it took fifteen minutes to reach her stop from school, but today it seemed like hours had passed and they weren’t even half way there. She glanced down at her bright pink watch and was shocked to notice that only five minutes and thirty-two seconds had passed since the bus started moving.

She sighed and leaned her head against the window. Why does time move like a sloth when you are in a hurry? She looked at the cars rushing by; stared, too, at the people, waiting for their conveyance, or walking away briskly on the concrete paths, and wondered if any one of them was as desperate to get home as she was. And then, abruptly, she turned around and unzipped her purple school bag. There, lying on top of her books, was the neatly folded paper that was the reason of her uncontainable joy.

Picking up the paper, she unfolded it with utmost care. She still couldn’t believe that she had done it. That after so many hours of trying to make sense of the tricky Math questions, she had finally succeeded. She had finally scored an “A” in her Math test. All those hours of bending over the boring textbook and practising a million questions had finally paid off.

She revised each question with a huge smile on her face, and traced the 8-0 figure in red on top of the worksheet with her finger. She was never going to misplace this paper! Today was the best day ever, and she couldn’t wait to show the test to her parents; they would be so proud of her! She knew her school had already mailed the result to her parents, but hoped that she would reach home before they saw it. She wanted to give them the good news herself. How happy they would be! And that was all she really wanted, to make her parents proud and happy. She folded her mark sheet very carefully and placed it back in her bag.

When the bus finally reached her stop, she jumped out and ran towards her house. This was unlike her; she was the type of girl who would walk slowly just to enjoy the view, the type who wouldn’t mind being greeted by stray puppies and kittens and stoop to give them a rub behind the ear or on their belly. Today, however, she was in a hurry.

When she saw the white gate of her house, her heart skipped a beat, not because she had run so fast; it was out of sheer excitement. Slowing down, she wondered what her parents would say. Oh, how happy they would be!

Just before she crossed the threshold of her house, she opened her bag and took out the precious paper. She unfolded it and tried her best to straighten up the creases on it. She took a deep breath and went in. She tried to stop smiling so that the surprise wouldn’t be ruined, but it was just impossible. She was so happy that her smile couldn’t be contained.

She was about to open the screen door when she heard her name and her hand stilled over the handle. It was her father, shouting at her mother. ‘Maryam scored just 80 percent in Math! Can you believe it? After all that tuition and extra support classes, she still got a freaking 80!’

For a moment, the 12-year-old girl’s heart forgot to beat. Surely she was mistaken; this was all just a big, fat misunderstanding. Alas, it wasn’t! Her father continued, ‘I simply don’t understand what’s wrong with her. Why can’t she understand a simple concept?’

And the realization dawned upon her like a splash of cold water on a cold winter morning: there was no confusion. She crumpled the test paper in her fist before stuffing it in her uniform pocket. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and her lips trembled, but she refused to cry. Instead, straightening her shoulders, the young girl stepped forward and pushed open the door.

‘Assalam-o-alaikum!’ she croaked, too scared to meet her father’s eyes and too heartbroken to look at her mother.

‘Wa-alaikum-assalam, my darling!’ her mother said in a cheerful voice as she came forward and hugged her.

Her father didn’t say a word, but his silence said it all.

‘How was your day?’ her mother inquired while handing her a glass of juice. 

‘Fine,’ Maryam replied, taking a very small sip.

‘We received your result, today. Darling, we are so proud of you!’ Her mother tried hard to keep up a normal conversation. After a moment, a short, humourless laugh escaped through her father’s lips which caused her mother to pause.

As if on cue, the first tear rolled down Maryam’s cheek. She was numb with grief. It was in that moment the man scarred his daughter in the worst possible way. The father, her protector, had hurt her the most. He neither knew nor cared that he had crushed her spirit. What mattered to him was that his friend’s daughter had secured the first position and his own child had not. His narrow-mindedness clouded his reason. He had also been a victim of the society which focuses on material gain rather than praising the intellectual growth of an individual; he could not break the vicious cycle.

Years later, when Maryam was about to about to graduate, she still couldn’t tell her grades to her parents without being scared. Even after all those years she couldn’t help but cringe as she handed over her mark sheet, waiting for her father to let out the same humourless chuckle.

For the briefest of seconds, she was again the little girl standing outside the screen door. She was beyond happy.

But, this time around, she was in for a surprise.  He stood up and gave her a tight hug while her mother looked on, wiping her tears.