Every year, the Universal Day for Children is observed with comprehensive functions attended by high-ranking bureaucrats, diplomats and representatives of international agencies
A five-star hotel in Karachi was packed to the capacity. Most of the ambassadors, high commissioners and representatives of the UN, UNICEF, UNESCO, IMF, World Bank, Asian Development Bank and numerous national and international agencies had occupied their seats. They had specially flown in from Islamabad to show their concern for the wretched children of the world. The elite guests were eagerly waiting for the commencement of the function arranged by our organization, GGI, Global Guides International, to mark the Universal Day for Children. Our head office is located in Desolate County in San Francisco. Our regional office for operations in South Asia and South-east Asia is situated in No Man’s Isle, East London. We operate from Chak Tindanwala in Pakistan. We are an internationally funded organization.
Every year, we mark the Universal Day for Children with a comprehensive function attended by high-ranking civil and non-civil bureaucrats, diplomats and the representatives of international agencies. The function is invariably presided over by a genius child. For the first time in the history and geography of our organization, we experienced embarrassment last week. The talented genius child we had identified to preside over the function did not turn up. We were totally disappointed. We talked to his father, a senior civil servant in Islamabad, and inquired about his talented son, Danishwar.
“He won’t be able to make it.” He casually replied, “Danishwar is in Washington to receive the prestigious Nutty Trophy for his ‘Chatpata Chit-chat’ on the Internet.”
The chairperson of our organization, Miss Dilruba, called me and said, “The elite among the audience are getting restive. Hasten out and comeback with a genius child in 10 minutes.”
I left the auditorium in search of a genius child.
The atmosphere around the auditorium was overtly calm, but uneasy. Because of global terrorism on the earth and sky, security arrangements were unusually tight. I looked at the heavens and murmured, “I am left with only eight minutes. Don’t let me down in the estimate of Miss Dilruba. Let me behold a talented child.”
A tough security guard caught hold of me by my arm and asked, “Are you contemplating terrorism?”
I looked at him and asked, “Since when talking to Allah implies terrorism?”
The rough tough security guard took me for a lunatic, and he let go my arm. It was then that I saw Budbukht Thari sitting under a Bunyan tree mending torn shoes. I headed for him. He is one of the most talented children I have seen in my life. In Thar, he catches poisonous snakes with his bare hands. He sells the snakes to the indigenous witch doctors and snake charmers, and earns a living for his old and ailing mother, blind father and a sister who coughs incessantly. In his pursuit for snakes, Budbukht Thari very often unknowingly crosses the border between the two countries perpetually at daggers drawn, and is thrashed by the border security forces of India and Pakistan.
I leaned by his side and asked, “How come Budbukht you have come all the way from Thar to Karachi?”
He did not respond, and kept mending old shoes.
“Have snakes, too, died of hunger and disease in Thar?” I asked.
He stared at me.
“Try to understand, Budbukht.” I sat by his side, and said, “Snakes in Karachi are unusually big, venomous and influential. You can’t catch them.”
“I am not Budbukht. My name is Khanakharab.” The child said, “I have not come from Thar. I have come from Hunza.”
I stepped aback and looked at him minutely. I was wrong. He was not Budbukht Thari. He was Khanakharab from Hunza. Nevertheless, he appeared to be a tremendously talented child. I settled by his side and said, “It is the Universal Day for Children today. We have arranged a function in the auditorium to mark the day. Would you like to preside over the function?”
“What does that mean?” He asked.
“You will occupy an elevated place, while Miss Dilruba and others would talk about the rights of children.” I said, “You will sit there, and do nothing.”
Khanakharab thought for a while, and said, “I have five brothers and six sisters. They have no woollies and have not eaten for days.”
“They will have enough food to eat, and woollen clothes to wear.” I looked at the watch. I was left with three minutes to accomplish the task assigned to me by Miss Dilruba. I almost dragged along Khanakharab, and said, “You are to preside over the function in three minutes.”
An officer of the security guards obstructed me. He said, “I won’t let this wretched child enter the auditorium.”
“He feeds five brothers, and six sisters. Isn’t that amazing?” I said, “He is a talented child. He has to preside over the function.”
“Have you gone crazy? He looks like a suicide-bomber!” The officer almost pounced upon me, and asked, “Who let you loose from the mental asylum?”
I looked at the watch. Ten minutes had elapsed. I sighed, and said, “It is all over.”
