“You won’t believe this! One of my friends got a tiger cub for a pet!” Samra Apa shrieked, as she came through the door.
“Assalamu Alaikum to you, too!” Dad reminded the bedazzled Samra Apa.
“Oops… sorry! Wa Alaikum Assalam. But, Dad, can you imagine playing with a tiger cub?” Samra Apa sank into a sofa close by, all wide eyed.
“Yes, I can,” Dad turned to face Samrah Apa calmly. “I have read about someone who not only played with tigers, but also once killed one who tried to attack him. He was so fascinated with the stripes that he had them painted over his weapons, too.”
Ali joined in the talk, as Samra Apa looked blankly at Dad.
“That’s right! I remember now! We read about him in our history class, Dad. He was a very brave ruler and general of the subcontinent, right? Can’t recall his name…”
“Yes. That’s how he earned his title of ‘The Tiger of Mysore’,” Dad piped in.
Ali proudly looked at Samra Apa, who was clearly bored by this conversation.
“Okay, okay, who was he?”
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