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I Am Not A Coward.

"Run, run. Hide quickly, He's coming! "

"What's wrong, Faraz?" Zaheer asked one of the younger kids. "Why is everyone running away?"

It was evening time and the children were outside playing in the street. Some rode their bicycles while others played cricket or basketball. Zaheer was new to the neighborhood. He was a well-mannered boy and made friends quickly.

"It's Mali Chiragh Deen," replied Faraz. "Babar has spoiled the flowerbed of Colonel Hamid's garden again. Mali Chiragh Deen is going to be very angry. Better hide quickly!" Faraz shouted as he disappeared into his own house.

Zaheer watched as an old man in his sixties cycled over. His face was purple with rage and as soon as he saw Zaheer, he made a beeline for him.

"You mischievous little monkey! How dare you spoil my hard work?"

He caught hold of Zaheer's collar and shook him hard.

"But I did not do anything, Mali Baba," said Zaheer trying to extricate himself from Chiragh Deen's clutches, but the old gardener was beside himself with fury. He shook Zaheer once more before letting him go and, muttering angrily under his breath, went to do his chores.

Chiragh Deen took great pride in his work. Every garden in the neighborhood was beautifully cultivated with neatly pruned hedges and blossoming flowerbeds. Chiragh Deen mowed and watered the grass regularly and no weeds were allowed to grow. All the gardens bore testimony to his skill and hard work. If only the young rascals would leave him alone!

Seeing that the coast was clear, the children came out once again. Amongst them was Babar who simply loved to tease the old man. Sometimes he would hide his gardening tools or wreck the flowerbeds. He had even cut the old gardener's watering hose in half. Babar was a bit of a bully and no one liked to get on his wrong side. So whenever he started one prank or the other, the other boys usually followed suit. Sometimes one of the boys would keep a look-out while the others punctured Chiragh Deen's bicycle. No wonder Mali Chiragh Deen viewed them all as rude, ill-mannered boys.

Babar grinned broadly at Zaheer's discomfort and embarrassment. "Shook you well enough, didn't he? Why didn't you kick him and run away?"

Zaheer was shocked at Babar's casual tone. "I can't kick an old man. And why did you trash the flowerbed? "

"Just for fun." Babar shrugged his shoulders. "He's such a mean old man. Always shouting at us as if he owns the whole neighborhood. So we make him pay. Would you like us to puncture his bike

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