Poverty has its own beauty.

Poverty has its own beauty.

Shailendra used to stay in the room next to mine in my Patna days. A kind of guy whom you never catch sleeping.

He would leave the room at 6 in the morning on his “Atlas” bicycle, which he inherited from his father, that cycle should have been put in a museum long back.

He used to cover 20–30 KMs every day giving tuitions to students from localities in Patna to barely cover his own expenses of studies. I had never seen him buying clothes, he was wearing same clothes from the time I remember, even his slippers had holes.

Whenever I insisted on these basic things, he would smile simply and say “Sab thik hai(it’s alright)”.

We all talked about our background but he never did, so we took him for a private person.

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There were 3 rooms on my floor and a kitchen, that kitchen was Shailendra’s room, rent was just 300 a month. Given we knew he covers his own expense it made sense to save money.

We all would cook our own food but eat together, sort of a tradition. We ate, cracked jokes, made fun of each other.

If Shailendra happened to join us, we knew what’s going to be on his plate — no surprises there its called “DBC” ~ “Daal Bhaat Chokha” [Rice, Potato, Lentils].

For well over six months I saw him eating Rice, it was always "rice" never a “chapati” or “Aalu paratha” or “Litti”. It was us who would share these things with him, and he would politely decline it unless we forced him.

It bugged me a lot. How can someone be so tasteless?

One day I asked him about it.

He humbly smiled but didn’t say a word. I asked him again.

“I don’t have a Tawa”.

“Well, you can use mine, heck why not buy one? What do you do with all the money you make from the tuitions.

His face turned pale.

So I decided to dig a little deeper.

And the truth was — His father was a retired carpenter with his share of old-age ailments. He had no paternal property just a mud house. Shailendra was the sole earner of his family. He used to send all the money to his home saving the bare minimum to survive in Patna.

His mother used to work in the paddy fields, and was paid with “Rice”. The same rice which Shailendra was consuming.

You may ask where is the beauty in this? — I have never met a student who was going through so much but didn’t let his friends get a hint about it. He knew if he opens his mouth help would come pouring from us. But, he didn’t seek help.

It was his own battle and he completely nailed it.

Today, Shailendra is working as a supervisor in an Ordnance factory. A proud central government employee.

Even today when we meet him. He is as humble as he was during those struggling days.

A Diamond Character.

-Saket Kumar