She described how her first night was in the orphage. "I was stunned," she told me. She said she missed her two kids alot while she stayed in the orphanage.
She stayed in the orphanage for a good three years. She completed her intermediate as a private student while staying there.
While the mother befell a catastrophe, the fate of the kids was no less miserable. After their father got married to the new woman, the kids found no place left in the house. The new mother made the father dispose the kids into a local religious school, "madrassah". It was only to get rid of them. The pretext was they were going to get religious education. Obviously the new mother could not spend money on them to stay in a school or hostel. So madrassah education being free was deemed fit for the kids.
"In one way", the woman told me, "I was happy. I could visit my kids any time. But when I saw them begging for food in the streets, collecting 'wazifa', my heart tore apart. I did not bear my kids to be begging in the street."
She started crying loudly. I did not know how to console her. I did try to say a few things though suggesting that all this is by God and there must be some good in it for them.
She told me how she was able to get a job in a non-governmental organization in the other city after completing her intermediate education. "I get RS 12000 (QR 500) per month, and I live a very good life." She prolonged the word 'very' so much that I had to distract myself from what she was saying for a while and wonder how terribly ungrateful I am to God for I am spending so much money and never thinking it is enough. I however quickly returned from this comparison and focused on what she was saying. She told me now it is 5 months she is working there. And she came here only to see her kids once.
She told me how she sold her cell phone to get a one way air ticket. I asked her why she did not save for the ticket and she told me she always bought things for her kids whenever she had some money left at the end of the month. It was only then I realized that she had put a big sack seemingly filled with clothes in my the deck of my car before we drove.
"So now I will go and meet my kids. Will you like to see my kids?" She asked in a way as if she really wanted me to do so. I wondered what reason I would have to see the kids. Since it was Sunday and I had no work, I agreed.
I was not well aware of the whereabouts of the place she wanted to go to. She took me a part of the city where I had never been before. It was a densely populated area and there were mostly Rickshaws and motorbikes driving. The kids looked at the car as if it was something unusual. At one point, I got a little scared too. "What if she is trying to have me kidnapped?" I thought to myself. Finally we reached a blind end and the car could not go further. We got out of the car and endtered a very dark and and narrow street. Amazingly, the street was very cold as compared to the temperature elsewhere. Probably it was because the place had not been ever exposed to sunlight. After walking for around ten minutes in the maze of streets we reached this 'madrassah'.
I told her if she forgot to bring the sack from the car and she told me she left it herself because she wanted to see the kids once more.
We entered the madrassah. The recitation of the innumerable kids in the countless rooms of the madrassah was no different than chirping of early morning birds. We sat in a reception room from where the chirping sounds was not so loud but got high every time the door was opened. After she told the person in the room the names and classes of the kids, he fetched back the kids.
It was such a scene to see the girl meet her kids like that!
She described how her first night was in the orphage. "I was stunned," she told me. She said she missed her two kids alot while she stayed in the orphanage.
She stayed in the orphanage for a good three years. She completed her intermediate as a private student while staying there.
While the mother befell a catastrophe, the fate of the kids was no less miserable. After their father got married to the new woman, the kids found no place left in the house. The new mother made the father dispose the kids into a local religious school, "madrassah". It was only to get rid of them. The pretext was they were going to get religious education. Obviously the new mother could not spend money on them to stay in a school or hostel. So madrassah education being free was deemed fit for the kids.
"In one way", the woman told me, "I was happy. I could visit my kids any time. But when I saw them begging for food in the streets, collecting 'wazifa', my heart tore apart. I did not bear my kids to be begging in the street."
She started crying loudly. I did not know how to console her. I did try to say a few things though suggesting that all this is by God and there must be some good in it for them.
She told me how she was able to get a job in a non-governmental organization in the other city after completing her intermediate education. "I get RS 12000 (QR 500) per month, and I live a very good life." She prolonged the word 'very' so much that I had to distract myself from what she was saying for a while and wonder how terribly ungrateful I am to God for I am spending so much money and never thinking it is enough. I however quickly returned from this comparison and focused on what she was saying. She told me now it is 5 months she is working there. And she came here only to see her kids once.
She told me how she sold her cell phone to get a one way air ticket. I asked her why she did not save for the ticket and she told me she always bought things for her kids whenever she had some money left at the end of the month. It was only then I realized that she had put a big sack seemingly filled with clothes in my the deck of my car before we drove.
"So now I will go and meet my kids. Will you like to see my kids?" She asked in a way as if she really wanted me to do so. I wondered what reason I would have to see the kids. Since it was Sunday and I had no work, I agreed.
I was not well aware of the whereabouts of the place she wanted to go to. She took me a part of the city where I had never been before. It was a densely populated area and there were mostly Rickshaws and motorbikes driving. The kids looked at the car as if it was something unusual. At one point, I got a little scared too. "What if she is trying to have me kidnapped?" I thought to myself. Finally we reached a blind end and the car could not go further. We got out of the car and endtered a very dark and and narrow street. Amazingly, the street was very cold as compared to the temperature elsewhere. Probably it was because the place had not been ever exposed to sunlight. After walking for around ten minutes in the maze of streets we reached this 'madrassah'.
I told her if she forgot to bring the sack from the car and she told me she left it herself because she wanted to see the kids once more.
We entered the madrassah. The recitation of the innumerable kids in the countless rooms of the madrassah was no different than chirping of early morning birds. We sat in a reception room from where the chirping sounds was not so loud but got high every time the door was opened. After she told the person in the room the names and classes of the kids, he fetched back the kids.
It was such a scene to see the girl meet her kids like that!