The document is about a street kid who has endured a difficult life after losing his parents at a young age. One morning, he finds himself transported to the bustling streets of Hyderabad after being thrown in the garbage. He explores the vibrant market streets filled with merchants, food stalls, and people. Inspired by the strong sense of community, he decides to start a new life there, learning the merchant trade from the kind locals. Ten years later, he has fully settled into life on the streets of Hyderabad, which have now become his home.

1. The Street
The frost-bitten grass crunched beneath my feet as I jogged through the
undergrowth on my way out of my makeshift forest 'home'. It was a crisp
autumn morning. Colorful scenes filled the area and squeals of joy and laughter
filled the morning air. I wished I could be as happy as those people were. But I
never could be. I couldn't let go of what had happened to me as a child. I had
lost my parents. Yes, I'm a Street kid. I learnt to fend for myself ever since I
was ten. Now, five years later, I am used to it. It's my life.
Today's challenge dawned... finding food. This was a daily
task but it never got any easier. I had survived off the earth for the last few
weeks and I was ready for some actual food! I ran through the back streets of
the nearby town searching for an open door. Nothing. As I ran by a cafe a few
hours later, a half eaten sandwich lay on the table. It was desperate but I was
determined to eat some actual food! Throwing away the bitten end, I ate the
other part. My teeth sunk into the fresh bread. It had been so long and I hadn't
realized how much I had missed it! But it all seemed too easy... The shopkeeper
saw me and had obviously judged me by my tattered black and torn jeans. He
yelled out in an angry voice. My heart was pumping.
What would happen if I was caught? Jail? Foster care? I ran,
with the rest of the sandwich in my hand. I had to return 'home' to think about
what had happened and finish my meal but I passed an unmanned stall on the
way. No money or food was there but one orange left under the stall. I looked
around to make sure no one was watching and quickly slipped behind the stall.
A few seconds later I emerged with a chunky pocket and a smile on my face.
No one had suspected a thing!
I jogged past some elderly pedestrians as they stared me
down. I was used to this sort of thing. Many years of death stares and
stereotyping had hardened me to this. They didn't understand what I have
endured in my short life. I continued on my way unfazed. People muttered as I
jogged past. Typical. I looked up. I was almost home after my long day. I
reached my trees, their leaves draped like a roof over my poor excuse of a
house. After eating the rest of my sandwich, I waited before tucking into my
fresh orange. Today was a good day. I was very happy at what I had achieved

2. but tomorrow would be different , I knew that it wouldn't be as easy. I
snuggled down into my makeshift bed, made of leaves and woven grass, before
drifting off to sleep. The cold wind whistled through the trees, as I slowly
made my way down the street.
I didn't know where to go, or what to do tonight. My bare
skin had goose bumps, and I shivered trying to pull my holey coat tighter
around me. It had been raining, the streets were wet and I was still drenched
from the rain that afternoon. I was alone like always. I have no home, no
family and no way of knowing what was going to happen next. I turned the
corner down to the ally, to a place which I prayed hadn't been thrown away. It
was still there, my cardboard box the closest thing I had to home. I crawled
inside it, it smelt horrible and was soggy but it was all I had. I trembled as I
pulled on my worn blanket over myself. It dripped on me making me even
more wet and cold. I closed the box hiding myself away from the world.
Praying that when I wake up I would be somewhere else, anywhere else.
I am a street kid, a common rat, whom no one cares about,
and no one ever will. How did things get this way? How did I lose my life? It
all started with the death of my mother, which is a sad fact in itself. My dad
didn't handle her death well, and he also passed away. Recalling my old
memories, tears fell from my eyes and soon after... I slept. But who knew that
the next morning will change my whole life.
“Let's throw this waste there!”, said a man and threw my
little 'home' in which I was sleeping. My head was banged on something very
hard and I woke up, wondering that it would be an earthquake. When I came
out of my 'home', I realized that I was thrown in the garbage dump. So I
cleaned myself and observed the area all around. I found myself in the streets
of Hyderabad! It seemed like I was in heaven.
There were merchants selling their products. I thought to
take a small tour of the streets. First I saw, the merchants selling silver and
crimson colored turbans, purple brocade tunics, mirrors framed in amber and
daggers with handles made of jade. Next I saw vendors, selling saffron, lentils
and rice. I asked the maidens what they were grinding and they said that they
were all grinding henna, sandalwood and spices. Then I saw pedlars selling
chessmen dice made from ivory. I saw some people selling – Wristlets,
Anklets, and rings. They told me that they manufacture bells for blue pigeons
to be tied to their feet. The bells are as delicate as a dragon fly's wing.
Simultaneously they were making gold girdles for dancers and sheaths for
kings to keep their swords. Then I visited a fruit shop. They were selling

3. lemons, pomegranate and plum. Then I asked the musicians of what they were
playing. They said that they were playing sitar, sarangi and drums.
It was a new experience for me. I felt very lucky to be such
a place. The street was full of young minds. I went near the magicians and
asked them what they were chanting and they said that they were chanting
magical spells to charm thousand ages to come. I did not understand a word of
what they said. So I moved on... now I came into the flower-girls shop. I asked
them what they were weaving with strands of red and blue flowers. The girls
said that they were making garlands for bride and groom to decorate their bed
for their wedding night. They were also weaving sheets of white flowers which
are placed on graves for fragrance purposes. The street was vivid in language.
It creates beautifully a colorful picture in the minds of the readers.
When I went to the other side of the street, I found so
many food stalls that I was not able to control myself. I saw puchkas, churmur,
jhalmuri, ghugni, paprichat, dahi vada, samosas, chowmein, kulfi, jalebi,
kachori, fish cutlets, vada pav, and lots more. All kept in such a way that it was
looking like a festival of different colors, and a sweet smell going all over the
street. My mouth was watering, but I somehow controlled myself.
Life is never dull here. Now there is the other side of the
picture. A visitor from the country-side feels like a fish out of water in the
street. It is so full of noise, all day and all night. It is so full of bustle and
hurry. These people have no time to 'stare and stare!'. The day begins not with
the singing of birds but with the cries of hawkers,horns of motor cars, lorries,
etc. The street is usually full of dust and smoke and one cannot breathe fresh
air. Street-accidents are also very common. But despite all the negative points,
the people here are like one family. I never saw so much love and care among
the people. They inspired me to stop doing wrong things like stealing, telling
lies, fighting with those who are against me.
I learnt a lot from them. The people living in streets might
not be rich in wealth but they are surely rich in love and they know what is an
honest earning. Soon I settled somewhere in the corner of the street and started
living my new life. I started working as a merchant. First I took help from the
merchants of the streets of how to sell the items and at what rate? They were
my new parents who taught me beyond my knowledge. They taught me that
those who intend to do something can do anything.
Now, After 10 years I am 21 years old. And my 'home' is
' THE STREETS! '.