I didn’t know her home but I knew few landmarks nearby. I was dragging her heavy bag in narrow streets, which were mostly occupied by Kutchi Muslims. I failed twice to find her home, because all those old structured houses were identical to me.
I was drenched in sweat, somehow I found her uncle who guided me to a dark street which led me to her small home. My eyes were desperately looking for her. The last time I saw her she was sobbing and wanted to go back home.
I could hear people enquiring about me. She came from nowhere and kept the bag aside. Her eyes were swollen and red. I always wanted to visit her home but never like this. It was massive loss for her and I was not good at consoling people then. She tried to smile but her eyes failed.
Last week, she was carefree and happy but life had taken a new turn for her…..
And she emerged out to be more strong … taking care of her entire family .. n gifting her younger sister an elder brother to look upon “mobu bhai” as she calls him.
Lovely ..
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