I started the day of 12th June with the thought in mind that I would be going to the field and interacting with children. I don't really like children of any sort, but due to the nature of my course being a bachelors, that too being the first year, the department aptly concluded that we can work with children because we are young adults ourselves, and being empathetic will be more natural working with marginalized children. I found that reasonable and was reasonably mentally prepared to interact with children who probably annoying. I know because I was a child too, just like everyone else. When I called my supervisor to ask where I'd have to reach for the fieldwork, I got to know that it was not possible today. I was asked to reach the NGO's office. Hadi's supervisor, an educator was busy and assigned Hadi to my supervisor.

I commuted, taking the van from CDR chowk after getting out of Chhatarpur metro station. Hadi reached 5 minutes before me.

I knew that I didn't have any task to complete at the moment when I talked to Shareef. I asked him if I could visit the library which I saw on the first day. He referred me to another employee, Elvin a stout figure with alert eyes. I told Elvin that I wanted to visit the library, and he accompanied me to the 2nd floor. From the basement, it was 3 flights of stairs. He was out of breath in the long room filled with steel cupboards with glass windows that would open and slide into the shelf, giving entire access to all the books inside it.

I asked him what the library policy was. He told me that I wasn't to tear or damage pages, take the book out of the NGO building, and I could bring it to the basement office as it was too hot in the long library where no one was. I picked a book under the section of "environment" by the name " Beyond Article 12: Essential Readings in children's Participation". I climbed down the narrow stairs and went into the basement office, Mr. Elvis following me.

Hadi examined the book I had in hand carefully and asked if I was told to read it by the supervisor. As It wasn't the case, I told him so and he lost interest promptly.

Reading it I encountered a variety of excerpts from different kinds of people regarding children's status, rights, participation, PRA, and many more topics. One such excerpt was from Paulo Frerie, the author of "Pedagogy of the Oppressed". I found the book a worthy read, so I mentioned the small book to Hadi. He had some interest when I told him that I got to know about "Pedagogy of the Oppressed" via Zubair Meenai, the senior most faculty of our department during our orientation. It was a clever lie as my father had told me about the book 2 days prior to the orientation—quite a coincidence. I sent him the 190-page PDF of the book, though I'm not sure if he'll commit to reading it.

I slept for half an hour just before lunch. I had lunch from the kitchen. Hadi brought his own lunch. The rest of the day went by, reading the book I had brought from the library.