She was born only five minutes after her sister. Two little souls entered the world together—twin girls, alike in heart but not in body. One was healthy and strong; the other, from the very first moment, bore a visible difference. Her legs didn’t match—one thin and fragile, the other swollen and heavy.

The doctors didn’t know what to call it, and people around whispered old beliefs: “When twins are born, one is often born with weakness.” While one sister grew with ease, the other grew with pain. Her days blurred with doctor visits, treatments, and medicines. Her father spent his entire salary on her care—but nothing changed. She remained the same fragile girl, with aching legs and a body that didn’t quite belong.

Then something small yet meaningful happened. One day, a doctor suggested new names for the girls: Rozana, meaning “the brightness of day,” and her twin was renamed Shabana, “the quiet of night.” It wasn’t a cure, but it brought a shift—a glimmer of hope that this child, despite her suffering, carried a special light within her.

But the struggle was far from over. Neighbors continued to tell her mother that the girl wouldn’t survive. “You can’t raise her,” they said. “She will die young.” But her mother refused to give up, and Rozana didn’t give in. She........

© The Spine Times