The waste bottles in the hands were transferred to a big bag. The bag already had the bottle twins stored inside. The 12 years old legs started walking ahead bare feet, the eyes searched for more with every forward step. The holder of the bag kneeled down , picked up few left over that were transferred then in the bag. The same process went for an hour until the morning sun started to prickle the half covered upper body.
The bare feet walked a long distance . Opened a turned out wooden door of a shabby roofed house . In the dark , low lighted room slept a lady with skinny bones. Her eyes moved towards the direction of light as the door opened. It was her 12 years old son with his big bag which collected waste bottles and other materials that he would be selling in the evening to get money for her medicine and next day’s meal.
She never imagined that her child would get through this situation but she was helpless in helping her son and even herself. Tears rolled as she watched her son’s feet that had turned so uneven and looked old. She called her son and asked him to sit beside her. He came with a glass of water and made her drink. She took a sip and held her son in her arms . Both started weeping , soon the boy left her and asked her to take rest, closing the door again he left.
The lady wiped her flow of tears but they didn’t stop, with every drop she remembered her old days when she was at the place of her son and on the cot rested her husband ill and tired. Months of dedication and care from her side but the soul left the body 4 years ago and now she was referred a widow.
Outside the house sat the boy with his old books, the only source of happiness he got was knowing new things. He read every single line with concentration.
Now he knew what responsibility he have towards his mother . He even have a dream to become an educated person in near future so that poverty should not be permitted to take away other lives.His dreams were to conquer the knowledge.
He looked back to the day when he was unable to write a single alphabet but today he could read and write of his own. He took out his copy , opened the middle sheet of it where he wrote his information .His eyes stuck to one name addressed with ‘late ‘ in the front.
He closed the notebook and looked at the cover mentioned with his name. His conscious mind went back to the day when his father and mother were well. His father sold snacks in his small shop from morning to evening. He used to sit with his father listening to his stories of society. His father was often asked about the reason of keeping such name of his son. Then the man would smile and reply, “He is ‘Samaj’ and one day he will constitute one”.
Samaj knew he had led the path today of constituting a good ‘Samaj’ through education. His satisfied eyes reflected his dreams and he kept his notebook bowing his head in respect.