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My Finger Chips Story



Out of blue, my 4-year old daughter asked me for finger chips early morning, signaling that she was hungry. 

As I was frying the chips, unusual melancholy feelings ran down through my spine like a cold ice tea I had in Busan. I had all the fresh memory of how my mother used to fry and sell the chips around the locality. For 10 small rings, she used to sell at Nu. 5. Since, besides cardamom there wasn't another source of family income. It used to be arduous for my family to end meets with many young and hungry mouths to feed on. With that little hard-earned money mostly through the sale of chips she spends the money very carefully on our education expenses. 

We had our education, through the little money my mother had gathered out of such hard labor –by selling finger chips and few other grocery items like Parle-G, chocolate, etc…carrying on her back going from village to village on any occasion. She is a woman who really cares about money and has the courage to earn it and knows the value of every single buck she has in her pocket. 

Occasionally, my father used to assist her when he didn't need to attend any fieldwork. My brother and I had the opportunity to go to school, while many of my village mates who dared so much for education couldn't – some due to endless family obligations while few due to labor issues. My brother and I are lucky amongst many back then although our parents had to undergo tough financial burden to support our education besides manning village work to keep everything going and making sure other siblings don't go hungry and unattended. 

Let me share Nu. 55, and a Bata slipper story. When I get time, I share this incidence with my science students just to connect two different times. 

I was in grade three. It used to be absolutely hard those days to enjoy good meals, forget about good clothing and footgear. My brother and I completed our primary education mostly in a makeshift bamboo hut nearby the school campus. For the food supply, we go home on Saturday after school and return back on Sunday morning carrying all the rations and vegetables needed for the week or so. It was during one of the Sundays. I requested my mother to give me some cash to buy a Bata slipper, which cost Nu. 55. I saw some of my schoolmates wearing it. It was beautiful. The long-lasting nature made this slipper so attractive and ideal to me. Nevertheless, I wanted to surprise my feet that only saw Gambot with brand new Indian made bata slippers. Before she was convinced thoroughly, I had to cry bitterly hard for several hours before I departed on the long journey back to school. After several hours, she assured me the money but came with a heavy warning that I will never be asking her for any money in future. It used to be extremely hard with money those days. She has to be careful of any bucks she spent on children and for the household. Otherwise, things would turn out ugly and unkind with nearby landlords with multiple interest rates on borrowed money. 

However, these days it has become easy with everything. Money comes easily and goes easily as well. Like no other times, money these days has lost its complete virginity. Therefore, lessons on financial management must be taught in school and at home well. 

The finger chips have always held a special place in my heart and in my family. Every time I see these chips, it takes me back to my mother.  It was the great savior to my family and our education. Our education came so costly with the sacrifice of our parents and our sweating. Perhaps, I have learnt that there is no free lunch in life! 

My father's constant advice and support have made all these differences in my life. In the companion of little drinking, he has the vessel of stories to tell. More importantly, unfailing love and care of my parents have made all the differences in life. 

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