A WEEK WITH MY RAZIA SULTANAS
How long would I remember them, their names? How long would I hold on to their memories? Better to pen it down before my memory betrays me. Nasreen, Masuma, Rizwana, Shagufta, Rima, Asifa, Lucky, Shirin. It was destiny that took me there, a residential co-educational mission school. I was put up with the students of class 9. It was a room of around 14-16 beds. They were the most promising girls I have ever come across my life. Their philosophy of life, their ambitions to not just be educated, but do something meaningful with their lives astonished me. Somewhere they gave me goosebumps when I realized this was the same spirit and ambition that I had once but somewhere I lost track of it. They were classmates, yet they behaved like sisters from another mother. Their compassion touched my heart, touched my soul. I believed they were a bit closer to the Almighty with their compassion. Just about 15 years old, their exuberance was so perfectly matched with their understanding and affe