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My failure is a testament to my willingness to take risks and push beyond my comfort zone

Our Story

You heard right; Failure Story!!
While success stories are often celebrated, it's rare to observe and absorb the valuable lessons from them. Life is a journey filled with both successes and failures. The difference lies in the fact that some achieve success more easily, while most face multiple setbacks. Many people give up after experiencing a single failure. However, it's important to remember that failure is a remarkable teacher, imparting lessons that no one else can provide. 


Crafted with Care

Childhood is often considered the golden period of life, where the apprehension between right and wrong is yet to be fully grasped. I vividly remember an incident where my mother often shares about my early years when we lived with our joint family in Danapur. It took me around 2.5 years to stand on my own foot, while my brother reached that milestone within the usual timeframe for toddlers. This concerned my mother, so she would provide me with extra encouragement and support. My mother would tie our hair into ponytails, apply kajal to our eyes, and make us wear red shoes with noisy soles. Every step I took created a sound, which would startle me, leading me to run in fear without realizing that the noise came from my own shoes. I was quite mischievous during my childhood. Whenever my brother was asleep on the bed surrounded by pillows, I would attempt to push him, only to face my mother's anger redirected towards me. As my father was involved in his business, he would sometimes come home late. I would eagerly wait for him, unable to fall asleep until he held me in his arms. My grandmother would often taunt my mother, suggesting that I should disturb her instead of my father. Another peculiar habit I had was that whenever I cried excessively, someone had to take me for an auto ride for me to stop crying. My maternal uncle would often fulfill this request for me.







From a young age, I had a sense of right and wrong in my life. I witnessed my parents fighting amongst themselves, perhaps due to financial issues, compatibility problems, or misaligned thought processes. As the eldest among my siblings, I often became the recipient of my mother's anger, as she vented her frustrations on me. Despite these challenges, I possessed a natural inclination for creativity. I would draw various comic characters and experiment with different materials like mud, cardboard, and thermocole to bring my ideas to life.

These creative outlets provided me with solace and joy. They allowed me to channel my emotions and find a sense of fulfillment. Through the process of crafting physical products, I discovered a world where I had control and the ability to manifest my imagination. These endeavors became a means of momentarily escaping the difficulties within my family life while providing me with a positive and constructive focus.

Despite the hardships I witnessed at home, I clung to my passion for art. It became an integral part of my identity, shaping my perspective on the world and offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

During my childhood, life was far from easy for me and my family. We were a family of five, consisting of two brothers, one sister, and myself the eldest. My father worked as a government employee, and although we managed to keep things rolling, it was often challenging to arrange funds for my school fees and stationary expenses. I vividly remember the times when I would submit my fees with late fines, simply because it was difficult to gather the required amount on time.

To supplement our income, I resorted to selling newspapers at various locations in Patna. The bustling railway station, the serene Hanuman temple, and the lively Harding Park became my regular spots. I would park my bicycle near the Hanuman temple, where I would collect around 20 newspapers from the distributor. This endeavor allowed me to earn some pocket money to meet my monthly expenses. However, due to time constraints, I could only manage to sell around 15 to 18 newspapers within a two-hour span. The remaining newspapers had to be returned to the distributor, as taking them home would risk getting caught.

Every morning, I would rush back home on my bicycle, ensuring I reached school by 8:45 AM sharp. This routine continued for a month, as I strived to make ends meet and pursue my education. Little did I know that my actions were being observed by a neighbor of my maternal grandfather. This kind-hearted individual noticed my endeavors at the Patna railway station and decided to inform my family about them. Consequently, my family became aware of the challenges I was facing.

Upon learning about my efforts, my grandfather not only appreciated my determination but also stepped forward to support me financially by taking care of my school fees. His encouragement and assistance brought a renewed sense of hope and relief into my life. With his support, the burden of arranging funds for my education was lightened, enabling me to focus more on my studies and pursue a brighter future.

#01 Story

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