“Mam, from tomorrow onwards, I won’t be coming to school. My mother says I have to help her with housework,” Neeli said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
I looked at her—those wide, innocent eyes, her fingers nervously twisting the end of her worn braid. She was only ten, yet her words carried the weight of resignation, like someone far older. A sharp mind trapped in a helpless reality. I felt a pang deep within me.
“But Neeli, your exams?…You’re doing so well,” I tried to reason.
She lowered her gaze. “Mam, I don’t want to leave school. But Maa says we have no choice.”
I knew her story. Her father was an alcoholic, absent more in spirit than body. Her mother worked long hours as a domestic help, barely making ends meet. In families like Neeli’s, childhood was a luxury they could no longer afford.
Still, I couldn’t accept this. Not without trying.
Without a word, I walked straight to the principal’s office. She listened quietly, then sighed. “We’ve seen this before. It’s hard to intervene without the parents’ support.”
But I wasn’t ready to give up.
That afternoon, I took Neeli with me to her home. The one-room shanty smelled of kerosene and damp clothes. Her mother, startled to see me, wiped her hands on her sari. “Madam, please don’t make it harder. We need money. Mr. Ashok said he’ll give ₹5000 if Neeli helps with his bedridden mother. That’s more than I earn in two months.”
“She’s a child,” I said firmly. “She belongs in school.”
She didn’t meet my eyes.
“I’ll give you ₹1,00,000,” I said suddenly. “On one condition—Neeli stays with me until she finishes her education.”
She froze. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in disbelief.
“Madam, will you really give us that much?” she whispered.
“Yes,” I replied. “She deserves a future.”
Before she could respond, Neeli’s father stumbled in, half-drunk. “Take her,” he muttered. “For that money, she can stay with you forever.”
I held Neeli’s hand tightly. Her tiny fingers wrapped around mine, trembling but full of hope. She didn’t speak, but her eyes sparkled—not from tears, but from something I hadn’t seen before. A flicker of light breaking through the shadow.
As we walked away from the narrow lane, I felt the burden of the world lift, just a little. Neeli looked up at me and smiled—the pure, unbroken smile of a child who had just glimpsed a future she didn’t know was possible.
Yes, the road ahead would be long. But I knew—beyond this darkness, a light was waiting.
And this time, I would make sure she reached it.
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