Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?
Her handwriting was not particularly pretty, but it was case-perfect and stroke-perfect. The downstrokes on the y and p were just right, the a and the e were just clear enough to not confuse. She was unsure about punctuation, but the chalk writing was clear and tidy. Munir Khan clearly saw a future here. Suji quickly became a favorite pupil of Mr. Munir Khan, the Languages Teacher at the All-Saints Girls' Day School. Not only was the child a delight to teach - she was sweet, polite and eager to please - Sujatha'sgrandfather also had an important job with the government, and that meant a lot of connections.
Munir Khan followed Sujatha home after school one day, with a sample of her class work in one hand, and a parcel in the other. He greeted the parents of the little girl effusively, and even went the full Handu way of salutation for the grandfather. Grandpa had been seated in a corner of the front courtyard on a cushioned recliner and did not get up for the much younger guest. Instead Sujis young parents played host. Charmed easily, Sujatha's father returned the teachers courtersy with his well-practiced Moghul style of salaam; an eleaborate sweep of the right hand from the hip to the chin of a bowed head, the palm curled slightly like it were a betel leaf. A couple of such sweeps later, he looked up into the eyes of the bearded older muslim man. The teacher beamed. Sujatha's grandpa caughed and barked orders for tea, buiscuits and chairs to be brought.
Following the ceremony of greeting and the partaking of refreshments, crying toddlers were taken away into back bedrooms, and noisy small animals were chased out into the backyard; the grandfather nodded at Munir Khan. Consent was given to reveal the purpose of the visit.
