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As soon as she heard his voice, Granny Ameena ran out of the house, picked him up and
kissed him. Suddenly she noticed the tongs in his hand. ‘Where did you find these tongs?’

‘I bought them.’

‘How much did you pay for them?’

‘Three pice.’

Granny Ameena beat her breast. ‘You are
a stupid child! It is almost noon and you

haven’t had anything to eat or drink. And
what do you buy—tongs! Couldn’t you
find anything better in the fair than this
pair of iron tongs?’

Hamid replied in injured tones, ‘You burn
your fingers on the iron plate. That is why
I bought them.’

The old woman’s temper suddenly
changed to love—not the kind of
calculated love, which wastes away in
spoken words. This love was mute, solid
and seeped with tenderness. What a selfless child! What concern for others! What a big
heart! How he must have suffered seeing other boys buying toys and gobbling sweets!

How was he able to suppress his own feelings! Even at the fair he thought of his old
grandmother. Granny Ameena’s heart was too full for words.

And the strangest thing happened—stranger than the part played by the tongs was the
role of Hamid the child playing Hamid the old man. And old Granny Ameena became
Ameena the little girl. She broke down. She spread her apron and beseeched Allah’s
blessings for her grandchild. Big tears fell from her eyes. How was Hamid to understand

what was going on inside her!

—Munshi Premchand
(abridged)

About the Author
Munshi Premchand (1880–1936) was an Indian writer famous for his modern Hindi-Urdu literature. He is one of the most
celebrated writers of India and is regarded as one of the foremost Hindi writers of the early twentieth century. His works
include more than a dozen novels, around 250 short stories, several essays and translations of a number of foreign literary works
into Hindi.

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