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Page 1: Butterfly.pdf

Butterfly by Preethi Nair

Mr Harris, our biology teacher, shouted above the noise tryingto tell us about butterflies.

‘The monarch butterfly carries a genetic code that has beenpassed down through generations. No matter where it ishatched, it can find its way back 2500 miles to its ancestralorigins, to a place it has never been before.’

I’m thinking about the ancestral code handed down fromgenerations through our family – I don’t think I’d find my waypast Tesco’s let alone back to the shores of North India. Notthat I come from a dumb family or anything like that, just thatmy life is home and school, school and home, home andschool. It’s important to broaden your horizons, that’s whatI’ve told my dad, hoping he’ll understand. I mean he had doneit by making the journey from India to England. But unfortu-nately, his world has shrunk to a terraced house in eastLondon and the furthest he ventures is Ilford (where heworks). He won’t even let me go to the cinema or on outingsbecause of all those ‘wiseos out there’. Sometimes, I haven’t gotthe energy and can’t be bothered to correct him and tell himthe word he’s looking for is ‘weirdos’; it’s not because I’m lazybut because, sometimes, everything feels like an effort, anuphill sluggish struggle.

‘The butterfly is hip.’Mr Harris managed to stun the class into silence by using

the word ‘hip’. It’s not a word I would have chosen. I would havesaid butterflies are beautiful but then my class would havepissed themselves laughing.

I wouldn’t even begin to compare myself to a butterfly –I’m more of a caterpillar and don’t I bloody know it. My nick-name at school has just changed to furry – Furry Fatimabecause I’m growing a moustache. Not on purpose, it’s justhappened – my body seems to be doing it’s own thing at themoment, and yeah I’m also called the obvious one – fatty, Fatty

Cambridge Collections Turning the corner © Cambridge University Press 2008

Page 2: Butterfly.pdf

Fatima. Am I big? Well if you compare me to Rachel Hopperwho’s a rake – well then yeah, I suppose I am. It’s hard thoughwith a mum who is continually stuffing samosas down youevery time she catches sight of you. People talk aboutEast–West cultural difference, arranged marriages blah, blah,blah but do they tell you the main thing? No, they don’t. Themain difference is in the East your mum’s stuffing samosasdown you and if you live in Rachel Hopper’s house you get car-rots and broccoli.

On a good day, the kids in my class call me funny, ‘FunnyFatima’. Don’t think I’m funny by nature, more out of necessity.I mean if I wasn’t messing about or being funny, I’d be in acorner somewhere, crying my eyes out. It’s not like what theysay doesn’t affect me because, inside, it does; but I laugh it offlike I couldn’t care less.

‘After a while, the caterpillars attach themselves headdown to a convenient twig, they shed their outer skin andbegin the transformation into a pupa (or chrysalis), aprocess which is completed in a matter of hours,’ Mr Harriscontinued.

Some days, I wish I could have my head down and hang offa stick or a tree trunk or something but that’s quite difficult inour house because after homework there are jobs to be done inthe house and there can’t be no time to sit around and be‘defressed’. That’s how my mum says depressed as she can’t sayher P’s – so now I’m thinking maybe she wanted to call mePatima or Patty. Maybe my life would be different had she donethis but I’m not going to dwell on this because my life is goingto be different.

I’m quite realistic, I know that any transformation that’sgonna be taking place in me isn’t gonna happen in a matter ofhours. The job’s far too big for that so I’ve got a plan.I shouldn’t really admit this but before I go to bed, I turn offthe light and, in my mind, I imagine I’m a butterfly. I’m free,I don’t fit in, I stand out because of the different colours onmy wings. I’m beautiful and I can float about doing anything,

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Cambridge Collections Turning the corner © Cambridge University Press 2008

Page 3: Butterfly.pdf

fly anywhere in the world – it’s just my body hasn’t made thephysical journey with me yet but I know if I focus hardenough on making the transformation in my mind – one day,I know it will.

‘Fatima Palek. Are you listening? Pay attention, Fatima. Stopwasting time daydreaming. It will get you nowhere,’ Mr Harrisshouted.

‘I’m dreaming of crossing frontiers, of making a journey,Mr Harris.’

The class roared out laughing.‘The only journey you’ll be making is to Mr Mitchell’s

office,’ he replied.‘No, it won’t be,’ I answered back, not meaning to offend

Mr Harris but just voicing the thoughts in my head.‘I’ll have none of your cheek, Fatima Palek. Get down to

Mr Mitchell’s office now and tell him why I have sent you,’Mr Harris shouted.

So I went to Mr Mitchell’s office and told him why I hadbeen sent ‘for using my imagination, for crossing frontiers,’ Isaid. And instead of Mr Mitchell shouting at me and giving medetention and that, he suggested going to Mrs Pope’s art clubafter school so I could ‘put my imagination to better use.’ I toldhim my dad wouldn’t let me but Mr Mitchell said he would callhim and have a word.

My dad has never had a Headmaster call him and tell himthat he had a talented kid and he was flattered, also he didn’tthink there would be any ‘wiseos’ in Mrs Pope’s art club so helet me go.

The first day there, I absolutely loved it and began by paint-ing butterflies so I could experiment with colours. Then I paintedthe person I would be and the things I would do, I paintedplaces I would visit and Mrs Pope was dead impressed and shesaid, there were no two ways about it, I had talent and would gofar. If Mrs Pope said that and she knew what she was talkingabout then maybe I would. Maybe that’s all we need – someoneto help us believe.

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Cambridge Collections Turning the corner © Cambridge University Press 2008

Page 4: Butterfly.pdf

Fifteen years later, Fatima Palek made the transformation andhas become an award winning artist. She is commissioned topaint pictures all over the world. Like the butterfly whichinspired her, Fatima travelled over 2500 miles and visited theplace where her father was from and, somewhere deep inside ofher, it felt like it was a journey she was always destined to make.

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Cambridge Collections Turning the corner © Cambridge University Press 2008

From Short Stories by Waterstones/Bliss in aid of the Dyslexia Institute,reproduced by kind permission of Preethi Nair.