There is a small house in Gajurlek, Amargadhi Municipality-3. It has a tin roof. Water leaks from the corners of the roof during the rainy season. It is cold in the winter. Seven members of our family live in a house that is not protected from the sun and rain. This is my miserable life. I have no complaints with anyone. I have been making a living by sewing clothes for the villagers.

I am tired now. My body gets tired whenever I feel tired. It is not like before. Nowadays, I have to use a stick even when I walk. Like sorrow and hardship, even the needle and thread have not left my side in old age. As soon as the sun rises in the morning, I go to the machine to sew old clothes. I spend my days immersed in the ‘clicking’ sound of the machine. I use this machine to meet my and my family’s daily household expenses. I earn sometimes a hundred or two hundred rupees a day by sewing clothes. Sometimes, when there are no customers, I feel like I am unemployed all day. With such a small income, it is difficult to procure the necessary things for the family. At such times, the old age allowance I receive makes up for it. When that is not enough, I have to search and beg for food for seven people. There is another disaster in the family. My three children are disabled. I myself am disabled. At such times, there is no point in giving up on life. Why feel weak? I work with courage.

I got married twice. The first marriage took place at the age of 18. I had hopes of having children, but for years that hope was not fulfilled. The people of the village interrupted me, saying, ‘If there are no children, the house remains incomplete.’ Those words hurt my heart, but I could not say anything. Then, 18 years ago today, I got married for the second time at the age of 50. I had children. I am now raising four children in my old age. Poverty has created problems in raising children. Let alone providing nutritious food to children, it is not even possible to feed them a full stomach. Raising children becomes challenging when poverty surrounds us.

People from the village come to this hut to sew old clothes. They only bring torn and torn clothes here to be recycled. The district headquarters, Bagbazar, is 3/4 kilometers away from here. Everyone goes to the market to sew new clothes. It's not that I don't want to go to the headquarters and work, but my body doesn't support me. When my knees don't agree, I have no choice but to sit on the machine. That's why I've been spending my life in the shop I've set up in my village house, from morning to evening.

My ancestors made a living sewing clothes. I also go to sew clothes with my grandparents. But, in today's expensive era, this business cannot support me. For that, I have to work professionally. Right now, I have no money, no land, only a small house, a place to hide my head. I have a family, for whom I live . When I talk about food, my heart is heavy . Sweet and savory are a dream for us . If we can make ends meet in the morning and evening, that is a big deal . Sometimes, when I remember the day I ate bread with salt on a stick, tears come to my eyes .

Sometimes, there is no salt, and I have to eat rice in vain . But I have been living with that as my luck . I cannot count how many nights I have had to go to bed hungry . Sometimes, the vegetables brought by the neighbor are my dinner . Even if I don't have lentils with the bread, my stomach is satisfied, but it hurts to see my children hungry .

When it comes to festivals, it is fun at other people's houses, but in our house, the day we get to eat is the day of the festival . We don't have the land to grow food, we have to buy everything from the market and eat . The old age allowance has been a great help in food and daily expenses.