Mattar Pulao Anyone?

As soon as my mother opened the door to let me in, as i got back home from school, after greeting her with salam my first question was "It smells weird, did you cook biryani?" She replied telling me that it was 'mattar pulao', this came as a little disappointment but no worries, I was stuffed after having a hotdog sandwich in school.

Mama said she had intended to give some of the rice to the maids but they never showed up so she was hoping the kids from the 'kachi abaadi' nearby would show up in the street for something and she would give it to them instead. Just as we finished discussing the whole rice issue, we heard some kids in the street and my mama quite literally 'leapt at the opportunity' and called them in. As the two little brothers were leaving, with the rice in one hand and trash bags in the other, I saw the two most adorable little girls walking by our gate. The little boys called to them and told them to come get food too. I couldn't get over their smiles and surprise for several minutes after they left.

I still had not really processed the lesson i was to derive from this experience. I went upstairs to my room. The curtains had been pulled back to let in the rays of the scarce winter sun. Through the window I saw the two little boys, sitting by the side of the drainage canal, amidst the garbage they looked like they were having the time of their lives and there couldn't have been a better place to rest and a better meal to eat.
Seeing this I remembered my reply, after being told that mattar pulao was cooked, had been "I really don't get why people even cook that?(I like meat)."
I felt ashamed of my ingratitude, yet thankful that God had given me a buzzer so quickly to help me identify the feeling and try getting rid of it (Inshallah).


Absorbed in a serious discussion over lunch. ^_^
That's as good as my phone's 5MP camera can get.