Anguish of a Little Soul

The Classroom

Hiba stared at her classmates, who like always were gleeful and energetic. The noise they made soared past the doors and the long corridor to the entrance of the Primary School Hall.

Like for any child, "Interval" for them meant "Freedom". The children rushed on their snacks to save time for some outside play in the twenty minutes break they had.

"I hate sandwiches. I have told my mom so many times and this what she keeps giving me"

In midst of all the noise Hiba heard Zoya shout. Zoya was an only child, and had lost her mother when she was a baby. The teachers frequently mentioned to each other that Zoya would have been more obedient and less arrogant if the grandmother had not been too gentle with her.

Hiba's gaze was now on Zoya, who tossed the sandwich wrapped in a lunch sheet into the waste paper basket, pulled out a 100/= rupee note from her pencil-case and left to the Canteen.

"Zoya brings a lot of money to school. My dad gives me only twenty rupees a day," said Dinithi, one of the four close friends Hiba had.

"Mine too", said Seema.

"My mom gives me pocket-money only if I behave well at home," said Amrin.

Hiba smiled. For her dad, providing for 3 decent meals a day itself was a big win. She knew better to not speak of it. Though she was only 7 years old, she had seen enough to understand why they couldn't afford what her classmates could. She was past the stage where she had asked her parents things her cousins or the neighborhood kids had.

She still remembered the argument her parents had the night before she started pre-school. Aunty Ruzila, her dad's sister had told her parents that she will take care of the school shoes when they were purchasing her school essentials, one at a time and with a lot of struggle. Aunty did keep her promise. She sent Hiba a pair of shoes, only that it was worn out and slightly discolored due to long term use. It was her cousin, Ryza's old pair of shoes. Hiba's mom burst into tears as soon as Aunty Ruzila left and there it started. The last that she could remember of that night was her mother's wet cheeks on her head and the tight, warm cuddle. Next morning miraculously a new pair of shoes had appeared but still her mom was not happy as she used to be.

"Hiba, hurry up. Or we won't have any time left to play," said Seema.

Hiba gulped the last morsel of tempered rice her mom had made from the left-over rice from the previous day garnished with leeks which grew in their little vegetable plot, and this she called 'fried rice'. Her brother, Rayhaan who was 3, was in tears when Hiba left for school, because he was hungry and wanted the fried rice, instead of the roast bread his mom gives him daily for breakfast.

As Hiba and the girls were about to leave, Amrin exclaimed, "Look at this!"

Zoya's pencil-case was open and she had the loveliest pencils in them. Her stationery were always attractive and unique. Seema who was already unhappy that they were running late, called them out quick.

Thoughts racing fast in her head, Hiba held her stomach, looked away from the friends and mumbled. " I don't want to play now, I can't come"