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The Homeless Woman: Nuzhat Shahzadi

The weather has been brutal lately. It rained only three times in the last 4-5 weeks. The rains broke the dry spell but added the load of humidity––hot days and nights became intolerable. I began my daily walking in the late evenings instead of mornings ––traffic was less, cyclists on my trail were scarce. . . less-buzzing bees . . . mosquitos? Invigorated!

As routine, I took a lap around our park. I spotted her. Mini lights hugging the trees were coming alive . . . created reflections on the concrete square, the fountain. I didn’t want to invade her privacy––looked from a distance. She had a tiny bundle of belongings beside her, on the concrete-floor, was trying to settle down for the night. I backed away.

Next evening, I found her at the same spot. It was difficult to guess her age. Life must have been hard on her to drag her into this destitute condition. She was preparing for the night, lost in her own world . . . lit a cigarette. I wanted to know her story . . . did she have no one who loved her? . . . to share life with her? Take away her helplessness . . . my heart ached.

She was on my mind, constantly.

According to the homeless assessment report released in December 2023 by the United States of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), approximately 653,100 persons are homeless in America. Globally the number is somewhere between 140-150 million.

Despite my better judgement, I photographed her from afar––without her permission (not proud of it).

On the 3rd night, the lady vanished. I didn’t see her again.

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