Pappu and Munni had done it again. Not exactly counted amongst ideal children, the brother-sister duo was living up to their reputation even today as they bunked school to go the Mela that had come to their town. Pappu and Munni had never seen a Mela and were very excited at the prospect of seeing if what they had read in their story books about such fairs was actually true. Mummy had given them their pocket money only yesterday and their pockets were full of jingling coins as they made their way towards the crowded street that led to the Mela. As they were about to enter the huge gates that welcomed them to the Mela, they heard a familiar voice behind them. "Oh no! Postman Uncle had seen them, he will tell all", thought the children.
But Postman Uncle was smiling. He came to where Pappu and Munni were standing, scooped them up his broad shoulders and after smilingly admonishing them for bunking school, agreed to show them around the Mela and not complain to Mummy or Papa (of course, Munni's tears and Pappu's tantrums had a role to play). "First up", said Postman Uncle, "we will go to see what you children will like the most".
My post on terrorism has been featured too:)
Ever the source of information, Postman Uncle told the children about achievements of Indians abroad. "However", said Postman Uncle, suddenly getting misty eyed, "before foreigners accept India and other South Asian countries in their fold, we need to counter prototypes like the one Aaman calls the blanket assumption that pan-Islamic terrorism is only about the Arab Muslim populace
Visit, and learn.