Akaal’s father was a rich sardarji who owned a tractor dealership. Fateh’s father was the mechanic who fixed the tractors in the oily pit. In the first grade, their teacher, Mrs. Dhillon, made them sit together. She noticed they held their slates the same way—crooked, left-handed, a sign of doomed artists.
Akaal nodded.
But we learned to erase. And rewrite. And hold on. naseeb sade likhe rab ne kachi pencil naal lyrics