English Bbc Compacta Class 9 Apr 2026

Rohan froze. He had accidentally touched the boy’s most private treasure. He saw panic in those eyes – the panic of a child whose last piece of home was being stolen by a stranger in a white sneaker.

His pocket, however, was light. It contained exactly three crumpled ten-rupee notes and a half-eaten packet of digestive biscuits.

Then, he pulled out his wallet. He took out the three ten-rupee notes. He took out the change for the bus. He took out the emergency fifty his mother had pinned inside for ‘just in case.’

Based on a true incident from the lanes of Old Delhi. english bbc compacta class 9

Rohan smiled. “Shoes get clean, Munna. But a photograph doesn’t come back.”

He walked away. The Physics worksheet was still unfinished. The phone case was now a distant dream. But as he stepped into the shade of the Gurdwara, he felt a strange, quiet warmth. He realised that for the first time that week, he wasn't calculating anything.

Rohan ignored him. He had seen a thousand Munna’s before. But then, the boy did something strange. He didn’t shout or cry. He just carefully straightened a crooked matchbox, looked up at the grey sky, and whispered, “No rain today, please. If the matchsticks get damp, no one will buy.” Rohan froze

He placed it all on the newspaper. ₹120. Almost half his phone case.

“Bhaiya, ten rupees for a dozen,” Munna said, his voice hoarse.

Munna stared. He didn’t understand. Rich people didn’t kneel. He touched the money, then touched Rohan’s shoes. “Sir, your shoes are dirty now.” His pocket, however, was light

He was saving for a new mobile phone case. Every rupee mattered.

Rohan didn't think this time. He didn't calculate.

He felt a pinch. Not guilt. Just… a thought.

“Bhaiya! Give it back!” Munna screamed, scrambling to his feet. “That’s all I have!”

As he turned the corner near the old clock tower, he saw a crowd. A small, dirty-fingered boy, no older than eight, was sitting on the pavement. He wasn't begging. He was selling matchboxes. They were arranged in a neat, pathetic little pyramid on a torn newspaper. His name was Munna.