Sahib too is wearing tennis shoes that look strange over his discoloured shirt and
shorts. “Someone gave them to me,” he says, in the manner of an explanation.The fact that
they are discarded shoes of some rich boy, who perhaps refused to wear them because of a
hole in one of them, does not bother him. For one who has walked barefoot, even shoes with a
hole is a dream come true. But the game he is watching so intently is out of his reach.
Questions :
1. Name the chapter and the writer.
2. What is Sahib wearing ?
3. From where did Sahib get the shoes ?
4. What game is Sahib watching ?
5. Where was Sahib standing ?
Answers
Answer:
Why do you do this?” I ask Saheb whom I encounter every morning scrounging for gold in the garbage dumps of my neighbourhood. Saheb left his home long ago. Set amidst the green fields of Dhaka, his home is not even a distant memory. There were many storms that swept away their fields and homes, his mother tells him. That’s why they left, looking for gold in the big city where he now lives.
Scrounging – searching for
Amidst – in the middle of
Every morning, the writer sees a young ragpicker boy who visits the garbage dump near her house and searches for ‘gold’ in it. The writer says that he searches for ‘gold’ ironically because although the garbage dump is full of useless, thrown away things, still he shuffles it so minutely as if he will get something as precious as ‘gold’ from it. The boy’s name is Saheb. His home in Dhaka was in the middle of lush green fields. They had left it many years ago and he does not remember it anymore. His mother had told him that there were many storms which destroyed their homes and fields. So, they left home and shifted to the cities in search of ‘gold’. The writer again says, “looking for gold in the big city”. Gold here refers to something precious which was not available in their hometown. Things like shoes, money, bags, etc. for the children and food, clothing, shelter as means of survival for their parents. The boy searches for such precious things in the garbage dumps. One day the writer questions Saheb and asks him the reason for shuffling through the garbage.
“I have nothing else to do,” he mutters, looking away.
“Go to school,” I say glibly, realising immediately how hollow the advice must sound.
“There is no school in my neighbourhood. When they build one, I will go.”
“If I start a school, will you come?” I ask, half-joking.
Mutters – to speak in a low voice
Glibly - speaking or spoken in a confident way, but without careful thought or honesty
Hollow – meaningless
Saheb replies to the writer that he has nothing else to do other than rag picking. The writer suggests that he should go to school. She realizes that her advice is meaningless for the poor boy. He replies that there are no schools in the area where he lives. He also assures her that he will go to school when one is built near his house. The writer asks him jokingly that if she opened a school would he attend it.
“Yes,” he says, smiling broadly. A few days later I see him running up to me. “Is your school ready?”
“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.