Little Metty won the drawing competition in school. It was a big thing, winning.
She was now famous in the school. She won a apple plantlet, apt for the green
world theme everyone drew pictures about.The plantlet planted in a little pot,
with her name on it.Mud, thickly filled and holding the plantlet upright and
silently promising to be with it forever.
She brought it to her home, proudly holding it for everyone to see. She took it
to her room and kept it near the window, as her mother told her. The apple
plantlet will get it's share of sunshine in it's days.
plantlet will get it's share of sunshine in it's days.
Two days on, Metty cared for the plantlet, checking it like a hen on the chicks.
Watering it and asking it when the next branch is sprouting. The third day, to her
Watering it and asking it when the next branch is sprouting. The third day, to her
grimace, she spotted little odd brown spots on the little leaves. She grabbed
the pot and ran to her mother. Her mother turned from the cooking pot and took
a look at what her daughter was holding. With disinterest, she said, "Honey, It's
the blight. We better throw it away."
the pot and ran to her mother. Her mother turned from the cooking pot and took
a look at what her daughter was holding. With disinterest, she said, "Honey, It's
the blight. We better throw it away."
Little Metty didn't wait even a moment there or asked about blight, as her mother
thought she would. Metty ran to get the dictionary and quickly turned pages to the
B section.
Saddened with the new knowledge about a plant infection, she sat on the floor with
the open dictionary. There was a picture of her plantlet in the dictionary. Just how it
looked like in real.
Her elder brother, watching her, pointed out. "Blithe Little kids, this is what happens to
anything that's given to them". She lifted her head up and called him a bourgeois. He
made a bovine face, and walked away wondering what "bo͝orˈZHwä" meant.
She took the pot and went to her father. The dictionary still left opened on the floor.
The man of the house was a bureaucrat. And he took no time in making statements
about how impossible that a plant get infected in the bucolic place they lived.
And offered help with disposing the plantlet.
Metty with her blank face, went back to her room, leaving the pot somewhere
on the way.
In there, she took out a white sheet and her colours. And started drawing.
