Autobiography of a girl child worker

Festivals come and go but for me all days are alike. Several others like me toil twelve hours a day in order to make Diwali a festival of lights and rejoicing for others. I must work throughout the year. Poverty forced me to take up this hazardous job at the cracker factory at a tender age of eleven. I was compelled to quit school to feed my ailing parents and younger sister.

Diwali may be a holiday for other children of my age group all over the country. For me, it is overtime. I hope I am able to assemble the requisite number of crackers to be able to buy at least one piece of sweet each for everyone at home. The burning of crackers and joyful shouts outside lend speed to my work. I deliberately push back the lurking fear in my mind that I would soon be a victim of the unavoidable fatal cancer.