Farman tells us that he wants to be an "Archicad". We correct him. "Architect". But he is firm and says that there isn't a "t" in between. He then takes out a visiting card that he has carefully kept in his pocket and shows it to us. "Archicad", it says. I look it up on google and realize that it is something related to architecture( I hadn't understood that it is a software,though). We smiled at him. Farman turned the pages of his notebook and showed us a picture that he had drawn- a house. A completely built house, with stairs, rooms, doors and windows. On the next page he has made his teacher write "door, window, room, stairs" in English, so that he can mark them on drawing later. 13 year old Farman is just one of the many children whose eyes gleam with dreams.

Rufaida's smile in itself is a dream. The first day we visited the place, when we were standing in the hot sun, 7 year old Rufaida came up to us with her little sister Muskaan and asked us to stand in the shade near her house that was no more than a shack. She smiled. I asked her whether she goes to school. She nodded a No. I told her that we had come to teach her and her friends. She looked up at me and smiled. One day after we came back from teaching the kids at the school, we saw Rufaida, squatting in front of her house at the edge of the lane, washing plates with her tiny hands. She says her mother is not well. We ask if she needs help. She nods a No and smiles. Rufaida always smiles.

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