"It takes longer to build a school," I say, embarrassed at having made a promise that was not meant. But promises like mine abound in every corner of his bleak world.
After months of knowing him, I ask him his name. "Saheb-e-Alam," he announces. He does not know what it means. If he knew its meaning – lord of the universe – he would have a hard time believing it. Unaware of what his name represents, he roams the streets with his friends, an army of bare feet boys who appear like the morning birds and disappear at noon. Over the months, I have come to recognise each of them.
"Why aren't you wearing chappals?" I ask one.
"My mother did not bring them down from the shelf," he answers simply.
"Even if she did, he will throw them off," adds another who is wearing shoes that do not match.
(The Last Spring)