It was almost midnight when the landline rang. Her mother rushed to pick it up. A domestic abuse case was recorded in the nearby slum. Very quickly she saw her mother get ready, lift her up, sit in the car and drive off. While rubbing her sleepy eyes, she asked her mother “Where are we going?” Her mother did not reply. Soon they reached the slum, her mother drove through the chaos and parked the car and told her “Sit inside”. She had dozed off. After a while, the car unlocks, a lady in tattered clothes, bruised, crying, sits in the backseat of the car. Her mother again, without saying a word drives off with them.
Being the daughter of a social worker had exposed her to the various injustice that happens in the world. She learnt compassion, humility and goodness from her. Today, while she sits By her mother’s bed in the hospital, all those memories flash by. She is proud of the life that her mother built for both. Even though she owned that hospital which gave free treatment to people who could not afford proper medication, there was no sign of pride or arrogance. Humility ran in her blood and that was not to be traded ever. She knew she could NOT hold onto her mother forever. But the values instilled by her mother, gave her the drive to do something good for the society. She not only headed the hospital, but one day every week she would go and teach kind in that same nearby slum, so that they never lose their innocence and become monsters that society would make out of them.
written by Penaaz Shaikh