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| comment | | "parent_author":"",<br>"parent_permlink":"story",<br>"author":"mrogy1",<br>"permlink":"life-story-1d79d3e0f48bd",<br>"title":"LIFE STORY.....",<br>"body":"![image (https:\/\/img.esteem.ws\/fblrj9w9rw.jpg)\n\nI was born here in this brick field. I am accustomed to this strong work from being in the womb of my mother. When she was pregnant my father disappeared. My mother tried to find him for years but she could not. No one knows if he is alive or dead. I have worked with my mother every day since then soI understand about work. Every day from early morning to evening,<br> I carry bricks. If I carry 3000 bricks in a week then I get 300 taka. Each brick weighs 2.5 kilograms. I can only carry 6 bricks at a time. After that I collect coal for my mother for our cooking. I help with the cooking and work doing all the household chores with my mother. Boys of my age laugh at me calling me,<br> \u201cMaiya\u201d(woman). I don\u2019t feel ashamed about this. But rather,<br> I feel proud when their mothers compare me with them saying how much I help my mother. - Mobarak",<br>"json_metadata":" \"links\":[ ,<br>\"image\":[\"https:\/\/img.esteem.ws\/fblrj9w9rw.jpg\" ,<br>\"tags\":[\"story\",<br>\"steemit\" ,<br>\"app\":\"esteem\/1.5.0\",<br>\"format\":\"markdown+html\",<br>\"community\":\"esteem\" " | | comment_options | "author":"mrogy1",
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