several times he was manipulated, advised or even beaten for not to ride that bicycle. several times his parents pushed their worn out heart to get rid of it, but they cannot bring themselves to do it. because they knew if abdullah comes back from school and does not find the tiny blue bicycle at one corner of the verandah, just next to the tandoor, no heavenly fountain or god's verse would be able to palace his wrath. he would storm out as he is, hungry and thirsty, perspiring, and would roam in the village calling out 'pari'...'pari, where are you?'
hell had broken down upon them the last spring. abdullah had just come from school when he found pari playing in the verandah ,running here and there, with her red basketball sized airball. as soon as pari saw his brother, she threw her ball at him and ran for it, merrily chanting 'abollah' in her sweet angelic voice. the hardest part of her day, when abollah is gone to school, was over. every time she saw him, a prominent shine appears in her little eyes and a gape-toothed smile, on her proportionally little, cute face. the same happened to abdullah. the bond between the brother and the sister was so heavenly, so deep, that it was talked about in the whole village. people used to tell stories; of how, when pari had just born and was put in the crib by the middle-mother, abdullah charged over her and shouted upon her to take pari back in the lap. of how, abdullah rejected every other name that the neighbour mullah or his parents gave to his little sister,searched every book he could lay his hands upon, and came up with the word 'pari'. a heavenly angel. little did he knew about the plans of the heaven.
that day, he played with her. for about a minute or two, untill their mother called him inside to change and to eat. he threw the ball in air and asked pari for one minute, as he goes inside, throws his uniform in one corner and rapidly get in some new attires. his mother knows he won't eat without his sister fiddling with her cereals right next to him. just one minute. pari nods her head, sports a little smile as her abollah runs inside. just one minute. the ball rolls out of the gates, which abdullah had left open unknowingly, and stops in the middle of the road. pari, looks for his brother to go out and fetch the ball for her, thats what he often did. but as he was nowhere visible, she chose to go out herself. and thats when the only car of the village, a white fiat, envied beyond control and notorious for careless rash speeding, chose to appear.
hell had broken down upon them the last spring. abdullah had just come from school when he found pari playing in the verandah ,running here and there, with her red basketball sized airball. as soon as pari saw his brother, she threw her ball at him and ran for it, merrily chanting 'abollah' in her sweet angelic voice. the hardest part of her day, when abollah is gone to school, was over. every time she saw him, a prominent shine appears in her little eyes and a gape-toothed smile, on her proportionally little, cute face. the same happened to abdullah. the bond between the brother and the sister was so heavenly, so deep, that it was talked about in the whole village. people used to tell stories; of how, when pari had just born and was put in the crib by the middle-mother, abdullah charged over her and shouted upon her to take pari back in the lap. of how, abdullah rejected every other name that the neighbour mullah or his parents gave to his little sister,searched every book he could lay his hands upon, and came up with the word 'pari'. a heavenly angel. little did he knew about the plans of the heaven.
that day, he played with her. for about a minute or two, untill their mother called him inside to change and to eat. he threw the ball in air and asked pari for one minute, as he goes inside, throws his uniform in one corner and rapidly get in some new attires. his mother knows he won't eat without his sister fiddling with her cereals right next to him. just one minute. pari nods her head, sports a little smile as her abollah runs inside. just one minute. the ball rolls out of the gates, which abdullah had left open unknowingly, and stops in the middle of the road. pari, looks for his brother to go out and fetch the ball for her, thats what he often did. but as he was nowhere visible, she chose to go out herself. and thats when the only car of the village, a white fiat, envied beyond control and notorious for careless rash speeding, chose to appear.
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