When I got the first position in the exam, I was overjoyed. Ami Abu appreciated and invited the family. I was persuaded that I or my mother Abu Fakhr could do it, but when the first came, I invited the whole family.
On the appointed day, my peers, cousins, uncles, aunts, cousins, etc., were not happy about my success. I was feeling respect and unique admiration for myself in the eyes of all. If not, he would have killed me.
According to him, it was not a miracle. It made me even more angry that, according to him, this success was not the result of my personal hard work.
We both agreed. I said that if you are not sure, then you can ask me the textbooks, other than that, whatever questions you want to ask.
In fact, I said this because one of my major objections on a daily basis was that I use textbooks, I have never thought or pondered on any other subject.
"Well, in the evening, in the presence of my father and mother, I will test you."
"You said and went to the roof. The magazines and books that I had never even looked at were open today for exam preparation. I don't know what the exam will be like. Writer or narrator. Who?" There will be questions from. I will also be able to give answers or today the flying foam of my bragging will settle.
The decision was to be made in the evening. Soon we reached the examination room, ie the appointed room. You were sitting as if the judge was waiting for the convict to come to the court. Ami Abu was sitting to one side.
"I'll just ask one question," he said. "What; just one question?" Came out of the three of us at the same time.
"Yeah! Just one question and that is that you get a Rs. 20 note every day for out-of-pocket expenses. How many times is the number 20 written on this note?" He said: "Eleven times." I had already done this at the request of someone.
"Wrong". Your decision was against my expectations. How could it be that the game I had played with friends many times. Turned the whole note several times and did not find "20" more than "11 times". He could do it not only in mathematical arithmetic, but also in English by adding "Twenty" and in Urdu by writing "Base".
Then he asked himself and he said that hundreds of times. I was surprised. Finally he pointed to the three lines on the front and back of the note. At first I didn't understand anything, but then I looked with the help of a lens. It wasn't the lines but the little "20" that were shining in their place.
If you start looking at the note from the right side, a line passes through the hat of Quaid-e-Azam. When the thief looked at you, he smiled at this payment and I began to see the truth in his daily objection. Irrelevant, but proved my incompetence.
Thanks for visiting my blog....It's free of spam...
It's my thoughts that i have shared in the form of story.
