" Sir", a voice from behind hit my ears. Probably I took 180 degrees turn to see a curly short hair girl with a recorder pen. "Hi, this is Mouni, a reporter ". At first, I tried to ignore her yet her pleading eyes never stopped their attack on my heart so I accepted her's. " Thanks ", her words made my face muscles expand.

I was a successful entrepreneur that made her interview me. The little girl boarded into my car and I drove.  she started throwing many questions about my past life, I knew she was curious but I bit myself that she would be in tears if she digs out my past. The night breeze was just refreshing us and I gave my answers at once. she was happy that she has completed her part of the assignment.  Yes, it was a task for her to interview a social person. And I was her choice. She was busy noting my replies and I was driving with extra care. I left her on my way, once her assignment was done, as her dad would pick her up from there. The smile which she left, at last, took me back to my days.

Myself, my little sister, and my mother,  wholly I called the beautiful gift of God. My father left us when we were born. I still remember the days we slept with hunger. But my mother worked hard to...