Have you ever met that little girl in the red dupatta near Boat Basin? If you have, then congratulations, you and I have met before. I am Zareena, and I am exactly eight years old.
I know we haven’t formally met before, but you were probably one of those people who sat in their air-conditioned cars, munching onto their Chicken Broasts and Chicken Tikkas, while I tapped on your window begging for money. You were probably one of those people (and there have been scores) who shook their heads at me or made a face when I bugged them too much.
You see, I know what you think of me. You see me in these ragged clothes and dirty face and automatically assume that I am up to some mischief. You, for one second, don’t think of me as actually being needy. You think that we are a nuisance, knocking…
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