Story By: Zeenat Iqbal Hakim Jee “Salman? Come and have your lunch” shouted his mom from the door of their hut in the KatchiAbadii. He was playing marbles with his friends of adversary. His mother was thin, a widow who lived in a slum of Karachi. Her husband died when Salman was 6 years of age. He was 10 now, in the adolescent phase. She worked hard as a domestic servant in the city. Their slum was outside the city. Salman knew that she always kept the meat for him. If Salman asked her to have it she would say she had eaten at Begum Saheba’s. But Salman, although not so old, knew in his heart of hearts that his mom was laying. He knew that she saved as much food as she could for him, of the little that they had. He entered his hut with his friend, his mom looked up as if to say, there is not enough for the both of us. But she told Rahman to come in. So Rahman and Salman sat together and ate the dried bread with curry.