I used to live in the country. We had a farm house. My job was to take care of the female goats. It was peaceful there and we used to live on egg, milk, cheese and honey. My life was perfect until my baby brother came and we had to move into the city. My father also had financial problems. I was in deep melancholy at the thought of leaving my friends. I loathed being a city girl. Hawkers screaming, cars blaring there wasn’t peace anywhere. I wasn’t familiar with the places or shops. My school wasn’t any better. They taught us useless stuff. I didn’t even make any friends. One day I forgot to do my homework and because of that the teacher hit me with a stick. I was in pure agony. I came home and my mom wasn’t there. While I was gone to school my brother had wrecked up my entire room. I was furious so I decided to run away. I took my back pack and went to the streets. I ran into an unfamiliar direction and ended up god know where. I sat in the corner and met a girl. She was an orphan and she had run from the orphanage too because the task master had given her huge bruises. Slowly my ungratefulness started to abate and I felt stupid. I decided to head back home. I couldn’t find my direction back home. I saw different things when I was out there in the real world. Terrible stuff. I went in to a shop over there everything was second class. I saw my father. I ran in to his arms. He was soft and loving. He told me they had sent the police to look after me. My eyes widened in shock. He took me home. My mother screamed when she saw me. Her face was red. She asked why I had run away. I bit my lip and tears ran down my cheeks in rivulets. I mustered the courage to tell them everything. I told her how I hated the city and how no one liked me. She smiled and told me some beautiful words. “Bear the pain of the world you don’t know what you will see next” I am forty six and I am still living with these words in my heart.