The burden on his hands
Last Wednesday, I visited Moti Bazaar with my mother. The roads were broken. The traffic was overflowing. The horns blared into the silence of the evening as it quietly tried to settle in. My mother and I were on foot. We stood by the side of the road for a second, waiting for the traffic to subside. I heard a man yelling. Yelling in warning. I looked to my sides and spotted him on my left....
He who opens a school door, closes a prison.– Victor Hugo