My burning dreams
Ever since I developed my sense all I have seen in my life is struggle. Struggle for food, struggle for shelter, struggle for education, apparently for everything. My father left us when I was in my mother’s womb. Since then, my mother has taken care of me and my other siblings single handedly. She works as a maid from day to night but yet never able to afford our basic needs. My two elder siblings are also daily wagers. And the irony is I had to follow them at a very early age. My mother wanted me to go to school, take education and support my family. But the dream remained a dream and reality hit. She could not afford my school fees and my name got unregistered from the book.
Now I am also working as a day wager like other street children in my country. I really wish I could tell what kind of activities I go through every single day of my life. I am always being bullied, trashed and neglected just because I am a street kid and my family failed to earn some respect.
Every morning I wake up with a hope of a better day but that hope never turns into reality rather it gets worse every single day.
As a human being, I also have some dreams, even I want to become a part of your fancy society but lack of opportunities never allow me to dream like others. I do not want such a life where I need to live every single day thinking about my food.
I want to go to school, learn and educate myself for a better future. Yet all these are distant memories for me and I see no hope but living a life like an animal.
As always my voice might remain unheard, my dreams get killed before they see any light still I want to give a fight. A fight for a privileged and decent life amongst you people where I should not label as just a street kid with no respect and love.
Every day I see my dreams are getting buried deep down under your nasty politics. I beg, do not abandon us. Consider me as one of you and help me get a better life.
Photo by : Pranto Nayan
Fabled by : Shubhro Sinha
