Gohar: My only dream is a normal bed! I sleep on the cold floor, on a pile of old clothes covered with old jackets. And I'm only 54 years old!

My father left us when I was very young. Almost immediately my mother became deathly ill. Then my beloved grandmother died. She loved me very much until her death! So I was left alone, completely alone, in this dilapidated house.

I go to the social canteen for a soup to not die of hunger. I go there both when it is hot or cold - for an hour and a half on foot. Is this life? Why it happens to me?!