In my days, people had many children. Some children died. More sons meant more helping hands, more people to work and earn for the family. Bechara girls were unwanted, uncelebrated at birth and unappreciated in life. People preferred to have as many sons and as few girls as possible.
I had 10 children. I lost one. My first child was a son. I lost him when he was twelve days old. He turned pale yellow and then passed away.
My oldest is Gul Zewar. She has 8 daughters, 2 sons, 36 grand children, and 6 great grand children. Her great grandchildren are my great great grandchildren.
Then I had Rubaba. She has 4 sons, 3 daughters, and 14 grandchildren.
After her, there is Habiba. She has 6 daughters, 3 sons, and 11 grandchildren.
My fourth daughter is Hafeeza. She has 6 sons, 3 daughters, and 4 grandchildren.
My fifth child is a son Hassan. He has 4 sons, 2 daughters, and 1 grandchild.
Then I had Bakhtawar. She has 5 daughters, 4 sons, and 4 grandchildren.
After her is Sakina. She has 6 daughters, 3 sons, and 11 grandchildren. She lost four others.
Then there is my youngest daughter Zubaida. She has 3 sons and 1 daughter.
My youngest child is Nabi. He has 3 sons.
One day when I am gone, if every child, grandchild and great grandchild of mine prays for me once, that will be sufficient for me. That’s all I ask for.
*Bechara = Hapless