One night when I was 12 years old my mother started waking me up -- utho, chalo (get up and move).
Our neighbours were calling us and so my mother took my sister Mushra and me downstairs and followed them. We went to a mosque nearby and stayed there the whole night. There were hundreds of people in the mosque -- all coughing; some even vomiting.
Later, my father Moinuddin came and told us that some gas had leaked and we would not be able to return home, at least for a couple of hours.
We returned home early on December 3, 1984. But a few hours later, rumours of the killer gas spread and we had to flee our home. Visibility on the road was poor and I fell down.
Later I started getting fits. I started losing my vision and in two months I was blind.
I don't feel like meeting too many people. I only feel like staying in my room and passing my time either listening to songs or remembering Allah.
My sight has been restored twice but that was for a short while. Some day it could be permanent.
I have undergone three operations at the Sankara Netralaya, Chennai, on the advice of Hamidia Hospital doctors. About Rs 2 lakh was spent in just two months but the doctors said I would need another eight operations, which could not be done due to lack of money.
Vision is not the only problem. I also suffer from fatigue, panic attacks and a burning sensation in my eyes. (She has tuberculosis, too, which she has not been informed about, her elder sister Sahala told rediff.com).
I remember the time when my family used to visit our farmhouse, which had a pond and greenery all around.
There I used to play hide and seek with my sisters. I know it is difficult, but I hope I can see this beautiful world once again.
As told to Ipsha | Photograph: Pradeep Kumar