She learnt to play chess at the age of three. By her tenth birthday she had won her first championship. She began to dream of the day when she would be a world champion.
But fate intervened; her brother died in a road accident. He was chosen to inherit the political legacy of his father and one day rule the country. He was ambitious and eager to succeed his father; his untimely death had thwarted his and his father’s well laid out plan.
She had to accept her father’s diktat; she turned into a pawn and entered politics. She disliked politics but she soon found out that it was no different from the game she loved to play.
Father was popular but not with all. His rivals hated his guts and his iron control over the party. With his heir-apparent dead they thought that they had an opportunity. They conspired and killed him; he earned martyrdom but lost the party.
The girl had not seen it coming. It was a game that she felt she was sure to lose. But then she was a player who was known for her patience. She took her time to make her moves. She had already acquired a reputation for choosing unconventional moves. She did not feel unnerved if she lost a piece or two.
She spied a vulnerable bishop. She sacrificed a couple of pawns and won the bishop; the bishop led her to the killers of her father. But she deliberately allowed the main conspirator to get away. It was a clever gambit and her enemies fell for it. They offered a truce; they were willing to accept her as their leader.
Chess had taught her one thing; the king enjoyed little freedom but needed constant protection. The queen wielded the real power.
She was her departed father’s pawn; but she had cleverly moved up, square by square, and now she was about to move to the eighth square. One step forward and she would be a queen.
She moved to the eighth square and chose to be the queen.
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