In a small village called Belapur in Uttar Pradesh, nestled along the banks of the Ganga, a settlement thrived. The village woke each morning with the first rays of the sun, as temple bells rang and the lowing of cows echoed through the air. At the heart of the village stood an ancient banyan tree, under which the panchayat held its meetings. Here lived Kiran, a young woman whose heart shone with the sun of dreams, though shadowed by societal constraints.
Kiran’s home was at the village’s edge—a small mud house with walls turned green with moss over time. In its courtyard stood a tulsi plant, which her mother, Sunita, watered every morning. Sunita, a simple homemaker, was always searching for a good match for her daughter. “Kiran, you’re getting older. Look, Sharma ji’s son has a marriage proposal. He’s a good boy, works in the city,” Sunita said one day while cooking rotis on the stove. Kiran quietly lowered her head. She knew her mother meant well, but her heart lay elsewhere.
Kiran wanted to teach the village girls who never got the chance to attend school. Though the village had a small school, only boys went there. Girls were sent to do household chores or work in the fields. Kiran had completed her college education, but there were no job opportunities in the village. Still, she didn’t give up. Every evening, she began teaching a few girls under the banyan tree.
Lakshmi, the most lively among them, had a spark of curiosity in her eyes. “Didi, what are these ‘letters’? Can we write books with them too?” Lakshmi asked one day, scribbling crooked letters in her small diary. Kiran smiled and patted her head, saying, “Yes, Lakshmi. Letters will give you the power to read every story in the world and write your own.”
But the village head, the sarpanch, disapproved of Kiran’s efforts. During a panchayat meeting, he thundered, “What is this new spectacle Kiran is starting? What good is teaching girls? Their place is at home, in the kitchen. This is the city’s influence spoiling our village.” Some villagers nodded in agreement, but Kiran’s father, Ramlal, remained silent. Ramlal, a hardworking farmer, loved his daughter dearly but feared the village traditions and the sarpanch’s influence.
That evening, when Kiran returned home, Sunita scolded her, “Kiran, why are you doing this? The sarpanch says your teaching will spoil the village girls. Listen to the marriage proposals, or we’ll face disgrace.” Tears welled up in Kiran’s eyes. She said, “Ma, is it wrong if I want to teach Lakshmi and the other girls? Don’t their dreams matter?”
That night, Kiran’s childhood friend Anil visited the village. Anil, a teacher in the city, understood Kiran’s dreams. When he heard about her troubles, he said, “Kiran, what you’re doing isn’t wrong. But to convince the villagers, you need to do something bigger. Teaching alone isn’t enough; you must show them that education can change these girls’ futures.”
Anil’s words inspired Kiran. She decided to organize a small event in the village where her students would perform poems, a play, and solve math problems. She wanted the villagers to see the importance of education for girls.
Preparations for the event began with enthusiasm. Lakshmi and her friends were full of excitement. Kiran worked tirelessly, using her small savings to buy paper, books, and colorful fabrics for the girls’ play. But the sarpanch disapproved. At the panchayat, he declared, “Kiran is challenging our village’s honor. This event must be stopped.”
Ramlal was torn. He believed in his daughter’s dreams but felt the pressure of the panchayat. Finally, he told Kiran, “Daughter, I’m with you, but if the villagers get angry, our reputation will be ruined.”
Kiran held her father’s hand and said, “Babuji, just give me one chance. If I can’t convince the villagers, I’ll stop.”
The day of the event arrived. A small stage was set up under the banyan tree. Villagers gathered, curious and skeptical. Lakshmi recited a poem, weaving her dreams into words. The other girls performed a play showing how an educated girl could bring pride to her family and village. Kiran concluded with a short speech: “Our daughters are not a burden but the strength of our village. If we educate them, they can change not just their families but the entire village’s future.”
Lakshmi’s poem and the play touched the villagers’ hearts. The sarpanch remained silent. Some elders had tears in their eyes. Sunita looked at her daughter with pride. Ramlal stepped forward, hugged Kiran, and said, “Daughter, I’m proud of you.”
After the event, a wave of change swept through the village. Even the sarpanch changed his perspective and proposed starting a separate class for girls in the village school. Kiran’s dream was no longer just hers—it had become the village’s dream.
Moral of the story: This story teaches us that courage and belief are needed to bring change. Challenging old societal norms is not easy, but if we trust our dreams and convince others of their importance, we can transform not only our own future but that of society. Education is the light that can dispel darkness.