Who is criminal?

 Durga is my adoptive daughter. Despite the lack of a legal adoption statement, I regarded her to be my daughter, and she considered me her mother. Our interaction with each other was similar to that of a mother and kid. Durga is a tribal girl. Every year, we try to discover and enrol children in school by searching the entire hamlet, the surrounding area, and huts in the fields. Durga was discovered in a pada outside the hamlet, along with a large number of children. Durga was my beloved. At the time (2001/2), there was no age-based admittance policy. So, even though the youngsters were 8 or 9 years old, they were admitted first standard. One Saturday, during the school assembly, a woman dressed in an uncomfortable saree, her hair zipped, and her two or three wailing children entered the Anganwadi. Her face reflected poverty and anguish. After a while, the mother and her children left. I asked the Anganwadi teacher about her. The tribeswoman's husband had recently passed away. There was not a grain left in her house. Every time, a starving child walked after her, weeping. She came every morning to obtain soaked pulses from the Anganwadi. After getting them, she goes to work and feeds her babies uncooked, soaked pulses every day. Surprisingly, because of her poverty, one of her babies died of famine recently, and that woman was Durga's mother. After learning all of this, I could not stop crying. Hunger and poverty were observed up close for the first time. Colleagues were explaining. But I was unable to stop crying. I convinced my husband (Sunil) that we should adopt Durga. He denied. My insistence persists. Finally, a colleague proposed that 'you cover her schooling and eating expenses for the time being. You can adopt her later'. As a result, Durga has begun to spend the entire day at my house and only returns home to sleep. One day, she appeared really happy. When asked, she explained that her mother took a little kothi and filled it with jowar. They now eat a full supper every day. "My mother goes anywhere all day long and brings grains and money," Durga smiled. Durga's mother was once seen coming out of the Jeep in front of the school. She was dressed in a saree like a rural woman, with jewellery on her feet, many coloured bangles in her hands, and a tribal clothing. Her alteration was evident. Adoption was unnecessary because Durga was happy, thus the subject was closed. In the meantime, Durga was away from school, so I went to her house to investigate. I discovered that the villagers had thrown her family out of the village. Further research revealed that Durga's mother was doing horrible things. The family was expelled from the village because such a bad- character woman was unwelcome there. Nobody knew where the woman had gone with her children. Some individuals said, 'She was like that, madam'. I came to school feeling numb. I had the same thoughts all day. Is there no duty to society? When a kid died of hunger, society did not hurry to help; rather, based on moral ideals, the entire society banded together to transport the destitute widow out of the hamlet. For a few days, I felt depressed because I was worried about Durga. However, time is the best medicine. I've forgotten what happened. We were transferred. One day, on my way to school, I heard a familiar call. I paused to look; it was Durga. Well, grown up. She wore the same smile. She ran. She held a sickle in her hand. She was planning to work in the field. "We're back, madam. They refused to allow my mother come, but we are currently residing with my aunt. "I go to work." I smiled and waved my hand above her head. That was everything I could do for her. Where will Durga be now? Will she get married? Will she be happy? After a while, I found myself back in my own world. (Year of Incident: 2002).