Tuesday, July 8, 2025

A Confident Girl from a Small Village

 

A Confident Girl from a Small Village

I’m here to continue my story. This part takes me back to when I was just 4 or 5 years old. Even at that young age, I remember being a confident child.

My First Day of School

When I was around 5, my father decided to send me to school. At the same time, my mother was pregnant with her third child—my younger brother. One of my favorite memories from that time was coming home from school and holding my newborn brother in my lap. I even took a day off from school when he was born. My younger sister (who is three years younger than me) and I danced with joy when we heard the news.

I was sent to a small village school along with my cousins. I never threw tantrums about going to school—it was always exciting for me. On my first day, I entered a room with 30–40 kids from three different classes (1st, 2nd, and 3rd). There was no LKG or UKG in our village.

I mistakenly sat in the 3rd class row, but the kids guided me to the 1st class section. When the teacher entered, the room fell silent. I was the only one excited—because he looked just like my mama (uncle). He noticed me and asked me to come forward. I happily did. He asked for my notebook and started giving homework. I was so thrilled that I gently pushed him and sat beside him on his chair! He was surprised and politely told me that students aren’t supposed to sit on the teacher’s chair. I immediately got up and followed his instructions.

๐Ÿ„ The Cow and the Coin

One day, a teacher asked all students to memorize the English poem “The Cow.” The next day, he began checking. He was known for beating students who didn’t study, and everyone was terrified—including me. I hadn’t learned it either. But when my turn came, I walked up to him with a nervous heart and said,

“Sir, I couldn’t learn ‘The Cow,’ but I have a 2-rupee coin my grandfather gave me. You can take it, but please don’t beat me.”

The teacher burst into laughter. He was touched by my innocence and confidence—and that day, he didn’t beat a single child.


๐Ÿ† My First Result

When results were announced, I was anxious. I thought I might fail. But the teacher came in asking,

“Where is that girl? Where is that girl?”

My heart sank—I thought I had failed. But then he announced that I had secured 1st rank in the class! I was shocked and overjoyed. I ran home, dancing and searching for my mother. She was washing utensils. I told her, “Maa, I got 1st rank!” She smiled, but didn’t show much excitement. She was living in a toxic environment at her in-laws’ house, where even hugging or kissing her children would invite taunts from others.

From then on, I consistently ranked in the top 3. Studying became my escape and my source of happiness.


๐Ÿ“š My Love for Learning

We had only a black-and-white TV at home—no smartphones or gadgets. I wasn’t allowed to play with neighborhood kids. After school, I helped my mother with chores and studied in the evenings.

I studied in a government school where English wasn’t taught well. Until 6th grade, I struggled with it. But then I started learning on my own and became the most confident English speaker in my high school. I participated in every curricular activity and was always self-motivated.

I was passionate about space. In 5th and 6th grade, I borrowed science books from older students to read about space. Math, science, and English became my favorite subjects. Teachers praised me and believed I would do something big in life.

They took me to block and district-level science quizzes, where I often ranked in the top 3. I brought home trophies and prizes, and those moments were magical.


๐ŸŽ“ My Academic Achievements

I studied in a Hindi-medium school until 10th grade. I scored 92% in my board exams, with 100% in mathematics. I received two scholarships—₹24,000 and ₹10,000—which were more than the total fees I had paid from 1st to 10th grade.

People in my village were amazed. But despite all this, I had never learned computers until 10th grade. Our school had only 2–3 computers, and we were taught only how to start them and use MS Paint.


❄️ The Winter Before My Board Exams

In 10th grade, my school was 2 km away. I walked every day—even during my periods. One winter, my mother had to go to her maternal home for a month. I woke up at 3 AM, studied, cleaned the house, fed the cattle, cooked food, and walked to school. My teacher was shocked when she learned about my routine.

During exams, some students brought people to help them cheat. I refused to cheat—my values were my priority. A day before my math exam, I was stung by an insect on my lower lip. It was swollen and painful, but I still gave the exam—and scored 100%.


๐ŸŒ  The Power of Teachers

I’ve always been lucky to have amazing teachers. They believed in me more than I believed in myself. One teacher gave us free tuition, and because of him, I cleared the National Talent Search Exam and earned a scholarship.

My dedication and passion for learning brought me success. I always shined.


๐Ÿš€ My Dream

My dream was to go to Bangalore for a degree in aeronautical engineering and work with ISRO.

What happened next? I’ll share that in the next part of my story.


๐Ÿ’ฌ Final Thoughts

If you’ve read this far, thank you. I hope my story reminds you that no matter where you come from, your dreams are valid. Your strength is real. And your journey matters.

Thursday, July 3, 2025

A Mother's Silent Strength -


๐ŸŽฌ A Mother's Silent Strength: The Deepest Chapter of Pihu’s Journey

Before Pihu found her voice, she was shaped by the quiet resilience of another—her mother.

The story begins not with Pihu, but with a young girl in a dusty village in Rajasthan. A girl who once dreamed of books, of classrooms, of a life filled with possibilities. That girl was Pihu’s mother.

๐ŸŒพ In a small village...

She was brilliant—sharp, curious, full of promise. But at just 16 and a half, her dreams were cut short. One day, she was dressed as a bride and married off. Her books were replaced by bangles, her freedom by a veil.

She entered a joint family where laughter was a luxury, rest was a privilege, and hunger was a silent companion. In her parental home, she was the beloved sister among six brothers. In her marital home, she became invisible.

๐Ÿฉธ At 17...

She suffered a miscarriage. She lost a lot of blood. No one cared. No medicine. No comfort. No nourishment. Just silence.

At 18, Pihu was born. Even during pregnancy, her mother was denied proper food. Milk from their own cattle was reserved for others. Her father too was deprived of basic nutrition. The household was ruled by a grandmother who believed suffering was tradition and favoritism was culture.

From 5 AM to 9 PM, her mother worked tirelessly—cleaning, cooking, fetching water from a distant well, washing clothes by hand, caring for cattle. Her body weakened. Her spirit dimmed. She endured eight years of stomach pain, untreated and ignored.

๐Ÿค Love? That was forbidden.

Pihu doesn’t remember being hugged or kissed by her parents. Affection was a luxury they couldn’t afford to show. Everything was justified with one sentence:

“This is our culture.”

The only glimpses of joy came during rare visits to her maternal grandmother’s home—just two or three times a year. There, Pihu tasted laughter, warmth, and the feeling of being truly seen.

 

๐Ÿ’„ The lipstick that never touched her lips...

Pihu always wanted her mother to smile, to dress up, to feel beautiful. But her mother never had time for herself. She was so simple, she never wore lipstick. Pihu found one in her cupboard when she was 15—untouched since her wedding day.


๐ŸŒธ Why Pihu Shares This

This isn’t just a story about pain. It’s a story about unseen strength.

Pihu’s mother endured what millions of women in India still face—a life deprived of food, love, healthcare, and freedom. And as Pihu grew older and began to understand the depth of her mother’s suffering, her purpose became clear:

“I want to give her everything she was denied. And now, I want to help other women like her too.”

This chapter is just the beginning. Pihu’s journey is unfolding—layer by layer, truth by truth. And with every story she shares, she’s not just healing her past—she’s lighting the way for others.

Stay with her. The next chapter is coming. And it’s one you won’t want to miss.

Tuesday, July 1, 2025

๐ŸŒŸ Pihu: Journey From Silence to Strength

๐ŸŒŸ Pihu’s Journey: From Silence to Strength

In a quiet village tucked away from the rush of city lights, a girl named Pihu was born into a world where tradition spoke louder than dreams. In her community, girls were expected to stay home, learn household chores, and prepare for marriage—not for a career.

But Pihu was different.

From a young age, she carried dreams in her heart that didn’t fit the mold. While others told her, “Why send a girl to school?” or “She just needs to know how to run a home,” Pihu dared to imagine a life beyond those walls. She wanted to study, to work, to live life on her own terms.

Her path was anything but easy.

Every step she took toward her dreams was met with resistance. She was judged, doubted, and even trolled. People whispered that she wouldn’t make it, that she was wasting her time. But Pihu didn’t stop. She moved forward with quiet determination, fueled by a fire that no criticism could extinguish.

And today, at just 25, Pihu stands tall as a Manager in a corporate firm—a title that may seem ordinary to some, but to her, it’s a symbol of every battle she’s won.

Her success isn’t just hers. It’s her family’s pride.



Her father, once questioned for supporting her education, now beams with pride. Pihu has become the pillar of her home—supporting her family financially, guiding her younger siblings, and encouraging them to dream bigger than the world around them allows.

She’s not just a daughter. She’s the elder son her family never knew they needed.


๐Ÿ’ฌ Why Pihu Shares Her Story

Pihu’s journey is not just her own—it’s the story of countless girls who are still fighting to be seen, heard, and valued. Girls who are questioning their worth, their choices, and their future.

To them, Pihu says:

“You’re not alone. You’re capable. And you can change your story.”

This is just the beginning for Pihu. She has more to share—about growth, challenges, victories, and the power of believing in yourself.

So if you’re standing at the edge of a decision, wondering if you should take that first step—let Pihu’s story be your sign.

Let’s grow together. ๐Ÿ’ซ



A Confident Girl from a Small Village

  A Confident Girl from a Small Village I’m here to continue my story. This part takes me back to when I was just 4 or 5 years old. Even a...