- Paper-setters are my creators.
- I was polished in the press. Attempts for my leakage.
- In the hands of a candidate.
- He showed me to his elders.
- One of his friends look me away.
- I was sold to a hawker.
- I am now used as a paper-bag.
Just as you owe your existence to Almighty God, even so I owe my existence to four paper-setters who gave me the present symmetrical from. I was, then, sent to the Secretary of the Board of Secondary Education Lahore in a sealed cover, in whose custody I remained for many days.
Exactly on the day of Secondary School Examination, I was taken to the Government Printing Press. Here I was handed over to the head compositor for being transformed into a polished form. Within an hour my form was totally changed through my soul remained the same. Many persons tried to kidnap me, but there was an iron wall of secrecy around me. In a similar attempt one of the compositors was caught while he was stealing me by a police officer who guarded the place.
At fifteen minutes to nine I was taken along with others to the examination hall in a motor-car (how pleasant was the ride!) Then we were distributed among the candidates most of whom were terror-stricken at our sight. The candidate who got me was a nervous boy, for his hands trembled much and his nervous eyes stared at me. I perhaps Appeared to him like a mighty demon about to throw him into the dark valley of despair. He gazed and gazed at me till his mind was settled.
At night he showed me to his elders, who discuses with him the answers.
Like an unwelcome guest, I remained in a drawer of his table; for a pretty long time. Not till the date of the result, there was any change in my fortune. On that day he took me out of the drawer and began to count and recount the marks that he expected to secure in the examination. But to my utter surprise he disfigured me to a great extent. Strangely enough, he did not care a fig for me after the news of his success.
But one of his friends from the twelfth standard came to my rescue and borrowed my services from him. I may tell you frankly that? even at his place I could not regain my former glory. He looked at me with curiosity and respect but not with fear. And after his examination a year later, my value to him was next to nothing. No wonder then that along with other waste-papers he sold me also to a hawker.
Why should this illiterate hawker care anything for ine? To him the Magna Charta would not be more valuable there, the list of vegetables prepared by a cook. He assorted all of us in different grades and sizes and then sold me to a manufacturer of paper bags. The latter transformed me into a paper-bag and sold me to a grain dealer. From him a lady bought me for a paltry sum of two paisa. Curiously enough she happens to be the mother of my original master and uses me in fetching sugar from the ration shop. Any way I am happy my fall.