“I never told my children what was my job. I never wanted them to feel shame because of me. When my youngest daughter asked me what I did. I used to tell her hesitantly, I was a labourer. Before I went to home I used to take bathe in public toilet so they did not get any hint of the work I was doing. I wanted my daughters to send to school, to educate them. I wanted them to stand with dignity in front of people. I never wanted anyone look down at them like everyone looked down at me. People always humiliated me. I invested every penny of my earning for my daughters’ education. I never bought a new shirt, used the money instead for buying books for them. Respect, which is all I wanted them to earn for me. I was a cleaner. The day before the last date of my daughter’s college admission, I could not manage to get her admission fees. I could not work that day. I was sitting beside the rubbish, was trying hard to hide my tears. I was unable to work that day. All my coworkers were looking at me but no one came to speak. I was failed, heartbroken and I had no idea how to face my daughter who would ask me about the admission fees once I back to home. I am born poor. Nothing good can happen with a poor person that was my belief. After work all cleaners came to me, sat beside and asked if I considered them as brothers. Before I could answer they handed their one day income in my hand. When I was refusing everyone they confronted by saying, ‘We will starve today if needed but our daughter has to go to college.’ I cannot reply them. That day I did not take shower. That day I went to house like a cleaner. My daughter is going to finish her University very soon. Three of them do not let me to work anymore. She has a part time job and three of them do tuition. But often she took me to my working place. Feed all my coworkers along me. They will laugh and ask her why she feed them so often. My daughter told them, ‘All of you starve for me that day so I can become what I am today, pray for me that I can feed you all, every day.‘ Now a days I do not feel, I am a poor man. Whoever has such children, how he can be poor. ”
– Idris
I may be drunk but this is fucking beautfiul and i am crying
Teen Wolf AU: Derek’s favorite activity is watching Stiles while he’s alone in his room touching himself. When Stiles founds out, he’s rather happy than angry.
When Ron, frustrated with studying for NEWTs and with Hermione’s anxious sixth-year nagging, explains to her what reading is like for him, Hermione’s breath catches. “Ron, you’re dyslexic,” she says, softly, and instantly regrets every snide comment she’s ever made towards his study habits.
Soon, by asking around, Hermione amasses a list of spells for Ron to try – some stilling the page, some changing the font of books for easy reading, some going after Ron’s temporal lobe directly.
These help, a little, but not as much as knowing there’s a word for why reading is so hard for him. That it’s normal, that he’s not stupid, and that Hermione suddenly helps instead of criticizes, looks for solutions rather than complains, praises instead of gloats.
Just imagine Derek waiting in his car outside the police station, expecting Stiles to tell their his dad that nothing is going on between the two of them, so it would be less dangerous for pack, but then ends up hearing this entire conversation instead and looks at Stiles with this extremely annoyed face when he comes out of the station and is all like
shealwaysreads 