In the midst of an ancient crowded city a boy was born. The city was a big one; there lied one of the largest markets of all time. Traders from all over the globe came to this city for trades. People used to call him Zlatan. He grew up there as boy on his own, feeding on the scrubs left by both rich and the poor and drinking water from sewers and gutters, never knew who his parents were and never was he interested in knowing them, sometimes used to pickpocket the traders in the marketplace, but only sometimes when dying with hunger but just after the theft he used to work somewhere and return the pennies he used to take, to its rightful owner and apologize. He was never seen begging for money because he never wanted to become one of them. He believed in almighty that things will change for him so he never begged.
Time passed away like the wind and the boy grew up into a man. Same old life but this time there was something different. He was in love. A girl called Fatima. She was the daughter of the blacksmith who traded swords and katana he used to build for money and food from the traders. Many a times Fatima used to tell him to work somewhere and make some money so one day he can ask for her hand to her father but he ignored her. Some months later when he was mad in love with her he made up his mind asked her father for her daughter. His father laughed at him and said that even the beggar who sits around his stall would make a better husband than me.
“Earn at least five hundred bucks or more in a week and I shall marry my daughter to you.”
“Yeah but not a penny less than five hundred bucks”
To get five hundred bucks a week was a very easy thing. But Fatima’s father believed that it would be impossible for him. The next morning he went to the market to find any kind of work. He inquired every shop if they needed somebody.
“I shall do anything you ask, please”
“You have no experience about work, you can’t work here” the shopkeepers said and pushed him out of the shop. This went on until the sun started to set.
At last he turned his face towards the sky and his hands rose into the sky and begged for help and his eyes full of tears. All of a sudden somebody placed a hand on his shoulder; he thought it would be Fatima but that hand was too heavy to be hers.
“Brother, do you need work” the man asked. He turned and saw a black man in Arabian robes.
“Yes, I will be very grateful if you give me one”
“I am a merchant from Egypt; I have come here for trades. Can you work at my shop?”
“What should I do?”
“Before I come to the shop I want you to clean it and before I leave arrange all the jewelry as it was in the morning in the shelves, the people here purchase less but scatters more. I will pay you four hundred bucks a week”
“Okay I will come from tomorrow”
He informed Fatima about the good news but she asked her about how he was going to get the other hundred. And Zlatan replied that he will surely get any work and will manage it.
After dusting the selves in the merchants shop the other morning. He sat in the market lane with his shirt taken out and started saying
“Boot polish, only for a buck” he also put a poster behind him of the same. People came to him. Of course why not it was a cheap rate, the other cobblers charged five bucks. By the end of the day he earned twenty six bucks and then returned to the merchants shop and started tiding the jewelries and keeping back to the shelves. After he completed his work, the merchant said to him.
“Good work keep it up, I shall give you bonus if you work like this”
He worked hard the other day and by the end of the week he had earned seven hundred fifty bucks even after spending it on his daily needs. He showed it to Fatima’s father he was impressed but he began making excuses that he doesn’t have a house to live in and where will his daughter live after marriage. He said that they will rent a house but his father refused and said him that he wants that he should have his own ho