A Pair of Shoes


In the midst of Jinnah Market, Islamabad; in the cacophony and crowds, drowned in the voice of a small boy who seemed to be wallowing in anxiety of not being able to sell a few flags all day long. While everyone was busy celebrating independence of the country, the boy however, seemed to be laser-focused on grabbing the next opportunity that could enable him to reduce the articles he was cautiously holding in his hand.

That tiny figure drew my attention the moment I stepped out of my car, since the penury, at times could take you out from self-indulgence in its own remarkable way. While the air carried a sense of ebullience, there was not a modicum of joy over the young boy’s face and that stood him apart from the rest of the crowd.

On seeing me approaching towards him, his face lit up and he instantly put forward a flag to me while deploying his innocence as the best marketing tool he had. What arouse my interest was his fungal affected feet and his absolute indifference towards them. At first, I considered to hand him out a bill of 500 but then changed my mind and instead tagged him along to buy him a pair of shoes.

While paving our way towards the stall, I heard a meek voice saying ‘can we go to that shop (pointing towards the Bata outlet across the street). Next moment we were making our way to the outlet to get Asif his sandals. His name was Asif and he was candidly talking to me now; telling me about his mother and how he travels every day from a distant place in the suburbs of Islamabad to get to the urban center where chances of enhancing his livelihood are better off.

On entering into the Outlet, a shift in attitude was seen among people and well it was because of Asif. It was a behavior that juxtaposed disgust and sympathy. Asif clearly did not bear any semblance of a customer, and seemed to be oblivious of how he was the center of attention. With the lanky legs but bright eyes, he was hewing his way to the rack where his favorite sandals were placed. His excitement was sky-touching and in a bouncy manner he told me, ‘This is the pair I want and this won’t even hurt me'.

It was surprising to see a languished figure turned into a joyful spirit in a matter of sometime. We got the shoes and I left him with an advice to take proper care of his feet and a wish that I could make his mind about getting an education which he thought was not possible as he was the bread winner of his family.

Asif gave me enough food for thought and made me realize certain ignored realities.

Little Blessings Taken Forgranted:
What Asif did not have, was insignificant and small for me only up until I saw Asif gliding through the roads, bare feet, surviving the torrid days and coarse dark nights. How I never took into account all the little things that are of great importance yet are overlooked.

Being Grateful V Self-Indulgence:
Asif was exhilarated on getting a pair of shoes because he would not be hurt any longer in his feet and that is the definition of being grateful. While I on the other hand, have been buying stuff unnecessarily and keep on compounding things and that is the definition of self-indulgence.

Resilience V Fragility:
Asif was not crying over his fate while he was trying his best to sell off the flags he had and that resilience had made him forget about his sore feet while I at times on catching a benign flu go on to think I cannot function properly.

Apparently, God had sent me to Asif to buy him a pair of shoes and had taken me to him to be mentally stimulated – to get to know more about myself, about life.

Thank you Asif!

About the Author: Believes in herself!


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