"Middle Classia "
It was ten o'clock at night. Sajid was still at the shop. Tiredness was evident on his face, but he still had a long way to go. Taking a rickshaw meant cutting into the daily budget, so he walked as usual.
Sajid was a typical middle-class person. He who fulfills the needs of others by killing his desires, who always postpones his happiness by saying "not today, we'll see tomorrow". When he reached home, he found the children sleeping. His wife opened the door, but there was no joy on her face that a husband should have when he returned.
"It's too late, I'm preparing food, it must have gotten cold." Saying this, she went to the kitchen.
Sajid washed his hands and was just sitting down to eat when his wife's voice came:
"The neighbor was saying that tomorrow is the last date for school fees. "Did you pay the children's fees?"
The bread in Sajid's hand stopped. He remained silent, what would he say in response? The entire month's savings had been spent on rent, electricity bills and rations. His wife understood his silence and spoke softly:
"Make some arrangements, otherwise the children will be ashamed."
Sajid nodded in the affirmative, but thousands of questions began to arise in his heart. Where could he make these arrangements? Every month, this struggle, this war, this compromise. Inflation was increasing, but the income was the same. Even the children's small desires began to become a burden.
"Dad, my bicycle tire is punctured." The next day, the son spoke innocently.
"Dad, my shoe is torn, everyone makes fun of it." The daughter bowed her head in shame.
These words struck Sajid like an arrow in his heart. He said nothing, just walked out silently. He came to the street and took a deep breath, reassuring himself that life goes on like this. This is the destiny of the middle class, desires And retreating into the midst of realities. He knew that all this was temporary, but would this temporary time ever end?
The wife came near the door and stood. She had seen Sajid's empty hands and downcast eyes. She knew that her husband was doing as much as he could. But what should he do?
"Listen..." she spoke slowly.
Sajid turned around, his eyes filled with helplessness.
"I've thought, let's start some tailoring work. I only know a few stitches, if I learn a little, maybe it will be easier to make ends meet."
Sajid remained silent. His masculine ego was preventing him from letting his wife work outside the house, but reality had shaken him.
"If you like it, do it, just don't tire yourself out too much." He spoke slowly.
A faint light came on his wife's face. She knew that giving this permission was not easy for Sajid, but she had taken this step for the better future of her children.
There was a moment of silence, then she spoke softly:
"Listen, I want to say one more thing..."
Sajid looked at her in shock.
"The bike you sold to pay off the debt was a huge sacrifice for us, but if we somehow buy a good running bike again, it will be easier for you too. It will save time going to the shop and nowadays people are also riding bikes online. You can take a ride on the way to the shop, at least the money for commuting will cover the household expenses. The rest I will learn sewing and save a little. After all, we are each other's support and our children too... together we will manage everything."
Sajid was looking at her carefully. His wife had never seemed to him as wise and courageous as she did today. Perhaps life's hardships had taught him the skill of reaching out to hold on to something when one hand was empty.
Sajid took a deep breath, as if he were getting rid of a burden.
"Okay, I'll see if I can find a good bike tomorrow."
A slight smile came to his wife's face, as if she was sure that a way would be found.
Sajid was about to turn around when his wife said, "Wait, a minute..."
She quickly went inside and took something out of the closet and came back. Sajid saw that it was his gold bangle.
"My mother gave it to me, but now I want you to keep it. If you need it, sell it and buy a bike."
Sajid looked at her in shock. He was surprised, unable to decide what to do.
The wife looked into his eyes and said softly,
"When you sold your bike, I was very sad. It was a sacrifice you made for us. Now it will be my sacrifice. When my mother gave it to me, it just became a part of my life, and now I want you to use it to make your life easier."
There was a storm of emotions in Sajid's eyes. Sometimes he would look at his wife, sometimes at the bangle that was in her hand. He thought, this is the same bangle that he had seen in his wife's hand for the first time after marriage, which had always been a part of her jewelry, which she never wanted to lose.
And today? Today the same bangle was in his hand, but for a different purpose. His wife's words started echoing in his mind, "When you sold your bike, I was sad. Consider this a part of my sacrifice..."
Sacrifice? Really?
He had sold his bike, but it was a compulsion, there was no emotional attachment to it. But this bangle? It was a memory of his wife, his mother's love, and perhaps one of his last precious possessions.
A strange conflict began to arise in his heart. Should he keep this bangle? Should he accept this sacrifice of his wife? Or should he do what a husband should do?
His fingers were holding the bangle tightly, as if he never wanted to let it fall from his hands. His eyes blurred, but he would blink and wipe them clean.
