Gracy was born in a Kabui family in Thenjang village of Loktak Project area in Bishnupur district. The youngest among nine siblings she had no care or needs that went unfulfilled. Her father P.G. Pousolung is a much respected man of his village while mother Makulinliu considered Gracy the apple of her eyes.

The whole family depended on their agricultural produce from their landed property for their needs. The family income was supplemented by two of Gracy's brothers, one working as teacher and the other a government employee in the PWD.

Gracy did her elementary schooling till class IV at the Gracy English School in Loktak Project area. Then she transferred to Don Bosco at Churachandpur where she stayed as a boarder till Class VIII. After that she came back home and completed her class IX and X at Bishnupur Girls' High School.

Then she came to Imphal and did her higher secondary schooling at NG (Mani) College. It was during this time that she met her would-be husband, Kangabam Sanahal of Sagolband Bijoygovinda.

Narrates 39 year old Gracy, "I was staying at a rented house in Sanakeithel. One day I wanted to go home to bring some rice and other items. Some of my friends saw me out and hailed this rickshaw to drop me at Waheng Leikai Parking.

On the way, the rickshaw driver asked me my name, where I came from, where I am studying and other details. He also told me he is a Christian convert. He then asked me when I am coming back. I said I am coming back the next day itself. After I reached the parking and boarded the bus, I completely forgot about him.

But he didn't. I couldn't return home the next day because when I reached home I found that my mother was seriously ill. So I came back after about a fortnight. A couple of days after my return I was fetching water from the locality water pipe when a rickshaw drove past and the driver kept looking back again and again. It was him.

After a while he returned in a new dress and driving a cycle and he called out my name, "Gracy." I was amazed; I didn't know who this person was. He then reminded me that he was the rickshaw driver who had dropped me at Waheng Leikai that day.

Later on I learnt that he used to drive in the locality everyday hoping to meet me. From that day a friendship developed and we eloped about a month later. However our marriage was formalized at the Sanakeithel Meitei Church only about three months later. This was in 1994.

My husband, Sanahal, was already staying in a rented house at that time after some quarrel with his family. He is a polio patient. He drove a rented rickshaw and I try all I can to help supplement the family income.

When my first daughter was just starting to walk, I would take her by the hand and walk through the leiraks and localities cutting paankhok. This I would sell at Muji Khul for the pigs there at fifty rupees per rickshaw trip. But it was always hard trying to make ends meet. The rent alone would be around 500 rupees.

Poverty has no relatives, no friends and I have witnessed the truth of this adage in my own life. I never knew any scarcity or any grief in my house. But after marriage I experienced shortages, grief, illness, everything ... the hardships we went through were unspeakable at times. Yet it was my husband's love and care for me that kept me going.

My husband was driving the rickshaw for about ten years after our marriage. I started selling newspapers about three years back. He was doing the business a bit before me. My 13 year old eldest daughter stays with my mother.

My second daughter who is only about 11 years old now helps me a lot by taking care of her seven year old little brother like preparing him for school and escorting him.

About a year back we returned to my husband's house after my husband became very ill. I wake up around 3 a.m. everyday, finish my morning chores like sweeping, moping and doing puja.

I also finish cooking before I come out around 5 a.m. to sit here on BT road to sell the newspapers that my husband has collected from the newspaper offices. I sit here till around 10 o'clock sometimes staying here till around 11:30 a.m. if some newspapers remain unsold.

After returning home, I would do whatever work is left like washing clothes etc, and then come out again around 2 p.m. to collect the evening newspapers. This, I sell along with my husband to the various shops and by-passers along Paona Bazar and Khwairamband Keithel area. Usually I return home around 5:30 to 6 p.m.

There is not much hardship in this work. We manage to get around Rs. 100 in the morning and about an equal amount in the evening. But this is a daily earning. Also we can't save up in plentiful due to the meager earning. So when newspapers stop publication and during bandhs and strikes, we suffer a lot.

Yes, there are people who tease us, taunt us or mock us, but I don't pay attention to them. Who doesn't want an office job? But who will give a job to people like us who doesn't have money to pave the way for that job? So I will do this work till I can, to help my husband, feed and clothe my children."