Mumbai’s heartbeat never stops. From the first light of dawn to the last shadows of night, its streets pulse with people, vehicles, and dreams. In the narrow lanes of Dharavi, amidst this relentless rhythm, lived Mohan—a rickshaw puller whose life rose and set like the sun. His small home, barely more than two rooms, was built with the sweat and toil of his labor. The walls bore the green stains of dampness, and the tin roof leaked during the monsoon. Yet, within those walls, there was warmth—of love and hope.
Mohan’s mornings began with the steaming cup of tea made by Radha, his wife. Radha, a simple woman, carried the lines of hard work on her face, but her eyes sparkled with dreams for her children. She spent her mornings stitching clothes for the neighborhood women to help make ends meet. Mohan would set out each day with his rickshaw, ferrying passengers through the city’s chaotic streets, returning home exhausted at night. His dream was for his son, Arjun, and daughter, Savitri, to study and achieve something greater, so they wouldn’t have to toil as he did.
“Radha, today is the last day to submit Arjun’s school form. I’ve saved some money; you handle the rest,” Mohan said one morning, wiping down his rickshaw. Radha looked up from her sewing machine, her face clouded with worry but softened by a faint smile. “Mohan, Savitri’s school fees are still pending too. I thought I’d get more tailoring work this month, but…” Her words trailed off.
Arjun was a star at school. His teacher had said that with hard work, he could become an engineer. The dream of it shone in his eyes. Every night, he studied under the dim glow of the house’s single bulb, his books spread out before him. Savitri, his younger sister, would sit nearby, gazing curiously at his books. “Bhaiya, I want to study too. I’ll become an engineer like you,” she’d chirp. Arjun would laugh and say, “Yes, Savitri, you will. But first, you need to go to school.”
But going to school wasn’t so simple. Mohan and Radha’s earnings barely covered the household expenses. Savitri’s school fees had been unpaid for months, and the school had warned that her name would be struck off if the dues weren’t cleared. Late at night, Mohan would whisper to Radha, “Let’s focus on Arjun’s education for now. Savitri is still young; we’ll figure it out later.” Radha’s heart sank, but she stayed silent. She knew Mohan’s words echoed the old village mindset—boys’ education came first, girls’ could wait.
One day, the wheel of Mohan’s rickshaw broke. Repairing it drained all his savings. That same evening, Arjun returned from school looking dejected. “Papa, they asked for my fees at school. If I don’t pay by tomorrow, they won’t let me sit for the exams.” Mohan’s face fell. He glanced at Radha, who was hunched over her sewing machine. She wiped her eyes and said, “I’ll try to get more work tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
That evening, Mohan visited his old friend and neighbor, Mahesh Chacha. Mahesh, a former rickshaw puller, had slowed down with age but was a mentor to Mohan. Over tea at his small stall, Mahesh listened to Mohan’s troubles. “Mohan, I’ve lived this life too—sweated and toiled. But I never gave up on my children’s education. Your kids are your sun. Don’t let their dreams fade,” he said.
Mohan sighed deeply. “Chacha, I want Arjun and Savitri to study, but the money… and Shastri Ji in the neighborhood says people like us shouldn’t dream big, just work hard.” Mahesh Chacha smiled. “Shastri Ji’s words are like old books, Mohan. Times are changing. You have to fight for your children’s dreams.”
Mahesh’s words sparked something in Mohan. He resolved not to let his children’s dreams die. The next day, he woke early and went to a school in the city that offered government scholarships for free education. He spoke to the officials and filled out forms for Arjun and Savitri. But Shastri Ji disapproved. He began spreading word in the neighborhood against Mohan. “Mohan’s gone mad. A rickshaw puller’s kids becoming engineers? These are useless dreams.”
The criticism hurt Mohan, but he didn’t stop. Together with Radha, he formed a small group with other parents in the neighborhood who wanted their children to study. Radha took on more tailoring work, and Mohan started taking extra passengers at night. Their efforts paid off—Arjun and Savitri received scholarships, and Savitri could return to school.
One day, the neighborhood held a small event where Arjun won an award from his school. Savitri performed a poem she had written, which moved everyone to tears:
The sun of dreams never sets,
If hard work and courage walk together.
Thorns may line our path,
But love and education make everything bloom.
Mohan and Radha stood near the stage, their eyes brimming with pride. Mahesh Chacha patted Mohan’s shoulder and said, “See, Mohan? You’ve given wings to your children’s dreams.” Even Shastri Ji was there, listening quietly to Savitri’s poem. Later, he approached Mohan and said, “Perhaps I was wrong. Your children have taught me that everyone has the right to dream.”
Time passed. Arjun completed his studies and became an engineer. Savitri excelled in school and dreamed of becoming a doctor. Mohan and Radha’s small home remained the same, but it was now filled with laughter and the light of hope. Mohan still pulled his rickshaw, but his back was straighter, and his face glowed with a new radiance.
Moral of the story: This story teaches us that everyone has the right to dream, no matter their circumstances. Hard work, courage, and family support can make the impossible possible. Education is the sun that can dispel any darkness, and to change society’s outdated thinking, we must give wings to our children’s dreams.