All hopes were pinned on Aamir for taking care of the house. From dawn to dusk he burnt the midnight lamp, with the aim of keeping his family happy, for whom he was heart’s delight, and for his sister Aamira, he was as soft as a morning light. When away from the warmth of family, Aamir was found behind the wheel, driving his pickup truck, and Aamira was waiting for him to return. Mornings were marked by Aamir dropping her sister off at school, and evenings turned him into her tutor, teaching English, Hindi, and math. Together, their lives were marked by love and laughter, warmth and care.
The brother-sister bond with their resembling names was cherished by all. However, it was punctuated in the wee hours of March 3, when the wheel of Aamir’s life was stopped. Not naturally but drastically, brutally. He was driving his pickup truck when his vehicle was intercepted near the Bhiwadi area of Rajasthan. As per the reports, a group of self-styled cow vigilantes rammed their vehicle into his truck, forcing it to stop.
What followed happened in moments. Before Aamir could even grasp what was unfolding, he was attacked and shot in the head. The violence was sudden and merciless, claiming his life within mere hours. Sobbing, crying, and yelling filled the garden of the house as Aamir’s obituary got wind, but Aamira wept silently.
Days passed, and the garden of the house started witnessing motions and frolicking, but Aamira was still grappling and withdrawing from life. Her wait for her brother lingered, and happiness withered.
Aamir was the sole breadwinner of the family; his death shrouded the family’s financial stability. What was decided was to cut down expenses to keep the house running and functioning. The first thing suggested to be erased from the list of priorities was Aamira’s education. The only activity she showed after Aamir’s death.
Soon the suggestion turned into action. Aamira’s school was stopped. Books were closed. The bag was hung on the wall, and the uniform remained untouched for days.
Amidst the darkness, hopes glimmer from the Shaagird Foundation, which rekindled the lost education of Aamira.
The Foundation visited Aamir’s house, met the family, and offered to take the responsibility of the children’s education. Soon Aamira, her siblings, and nephew were admitted to a reputed school of the village–HS Palla Nuh.
The admission garnered happiness from Aamira. Smiles were put on her face, but worries had rooms too. The new school would require books, notebooks, uniforms, and bags—where to arrange them all? The question engulfed her.
The Shagird Foundation answered this as well. Her new books, notebooks, bags, and shoes were arranged by the Foundation. And the school uniform was stitched by her elder sister through the fabric provided by the Shaagird Foundation. Each thread stitched the happiness of Aamira.
