Diharesh had finally completed his post-graduation. The long years of study, sacrifice, and sleepless nights had come to an end. Now, he was about to step into the real world—the world he had imagined would welcome him with opportunities. He was educated, capable, and hopeful. Deep inside, he believed that someone like him would surely get a good job, and one day, his parents would look at him with pride.
With that hope, Diharesh began applying for jobs. One day, he went for an interview at a hospital. He walked in with confidence, carrying not just his documents but also his dreams. However, during the interview, he was asked a simple question—"Do you have any experience?"
Diharesh quietly answered, "No."
Despite having strong knowledge in his field, he was rejected. The reason was simple—companies wanted experienced candidates. Knowledge alone was not enough. That day, Diharesh felt something break inside him. Still, he didn't give up. He kept trying, going from one place to another, attending countless interviews, holding on to whatever hope he had left.
But everywhere, the result was the same—rejection.
In some places, he was offered a job, but the salary was so low that it would barely cover his own expenses. Helping his family would be impossible. Accepting such a job felt meaningless, yet rejecting it felt painful.
This was the harsh reality he was facing. Even after being so educated, he couldn't find a proper job. The worst part was—he couldn't even tell his family the truth. At home, his parents were still working hard, doing labor work, believing that their son would soon change their lives. They had so much faith in him.
And here he was… failing silently.
Diharesh was drowning in sadness. It wasn't just disappointment—it was helplessness. How could he tell his parents that he was getting rejected everywhere? And even if he got a job, the salary was so low that he would feel ashamed to even speak about it.
He had no one to share this pain with. He had no friends. The girl he once loved had already left him. The people he once considered close friends in college had also disappointed him. One by one, everyone had disappeared from his life.
Now, he was completely alone.
A heavy burden sat on his chest—what would he say at home? How would he explain that despite studying so much, he still couldn't get a job? He kept questioning everything.
"What is this system? Is this some kind of scam? Even after studying so hard, day and night, I can't get a job? My dream was to work in a laboratory… I gave everything for it."
But reality was cruel.
People only asked one thing—experience.
And those who had connections easily got jobs. But Diharesh came from a poor family. He had no powerful contacts, no support, no shortcuts.
Slowly, he began to understand a painful truth about the world—no one really has time to care about others. Except for family, everyone is busy thinking about themselves. No one looks at someone and feels genuine compassion, thinking, "This person truly needs a job."
In this world, only two things seemed to matter—experience and connections. And if you had neither… you were simply left behind
Two to three times a week, Diharesh traveled to another city—the same city where he had once studied with dreams in his eyes. Now, those same roads felt heavier. He took the same crowded local bus every time, surrounded by noise and strangers, holding on to just one hope—that maybe, in this city, he would finally find a good job.
He didn't have enough money. To save every rupee, he would attend one interview and then walk to another location instead of spending on transport. Sometimes, he walked long distances on an empty stomach, his body weak, his steps slow and unsteady. The heat made him sweat constantly, soaking his clothes. His shoes were worn out, slightly torn from the edges, barely holding together.Dust filled the air of the city, sticking to his face, making him look even more exhausted and defeated.
One day, after walking nearly four kilometers, he finally reached a hospital for another interview. As he entered, his clothes were drenched in sweat, and his tired footsteps left faint marks on the clean, polished floor. He noticed it immediately and felt deeply ashamed. But what could he do? It wasn't carelessness—it was helplessness.
Still, gathering whatever courage he had left, he walked up to the manager.
There was a heaviness in his voice, a pain he was trying hard to hide, as he asked, "Is there any vacancy for a job?"
He was holding back his tears, forcing himself to stay composed.
The manager looked at him from head to toe, observing his condition, and without a second thought replied, "No, there is no vacancy."
Diharesh quietly took out his resume and handed it over, saying softly, "If there is any opportunity in the future, please inform me."
The manager nodded casually, "Yes, sure."
Diharesh turned and walked out.
But as he stepped outside, something made him stop. He glanced back through the window—and what he saw shattered whatever little hope he had left. The manager had already torn his resume into pieces and thrown it into the dustbin.Then, in anger, he scolded the security guard, saying, "Why do you let people like this enter? Look at his condition—sweaty, dirty, making the floor messy. People like him should be stopped outside itself."
Diharesh heard everything.
He saw everything.
But he couldn't say a single word.
Silently, he walked away.
When he reached home, his mother asked him gently, "How was your interview?"
He had no answer.
No words came out. He couldn't tell them the truth. He couldn't break their hope.
He went straight to his room.
That night, alone in the darkness, Diharesh broke down. He cried deeply, uncontrollably, letting out all the pain he had been holding inside. Thoughts kept running through his mind again and again.
"What will I do if I never get a job? How long will my parents continue doing labor work? How long can they suffer like this?"
He felt ashamed to even step outside the house now. People always asked him the same question—"When will you get a job?" Some even seemed happy seeing his condition, as if his struggle was something to talk about.
"What should I do? Why is this happening to me? What is my fault?"
His mind was filled with endless questions.
The dream he once had—to build a career, to work in a laboratory—he had achieved the education for it. But still, he had no job. No opportunity. No direction.
He felt completely defeated.
Days started passing like this. He stayed inside the house most of the time, avoiding the outside world. He was afraid—not of failure anymore, but of people, of their questions, of their judgment.
Because sometimes, words hurt more than reality and Diharesh had already suffered enough.
One day, Diharesh's cousin suggested that he should start preparing for a government job. It sounded like a safe path, a stable future. But Diharesh couldn't accept it so easily.
He kept thinking—he had already spent so many years completing his post-graduation. He had reached an age where he should be earning, supporting his parents, and standing on his own feet. Starting government exam preparation now felt like going backward. It would take years, with no guarantee of success. And deep inside, he had no interest in it.
"If this is what I had to do," he thought, "then why did I study so much in my field?"
He had worked day and night to become educated, believing that he would build a stable life through a private job, working professionally in a laboratory. That was his dream. But no one had ever told him that the real world would be like this—a system where even after achieving everything academically, there would still be no job.
It felt like a cruel reality… almost like a scam.
"If I had known this earlier," he thought, "I would have started preparing for government exams long ago. I would have left my dream behind and settled for a clerk job. At least I would have had stability."
Slowly, he began to understand a bitter truth—life doesn't run on dreams, it runs on money. And sometimes, money doesn't allow you to live your dream.
After thinking deeply, Diharesh made a difficult decision. He chose the only path that was still open to him—his dream, but at a cost. He accepted a job in another city, with a very low salary. It wasn't what he had imagined, but it was something. He convinced himself that with time, the salary would increase, and things would get better.
But reality, once again, was harsh.
In this new job, his day started at 8:00 in the morning and didn't end until 9:30 at night. Long hours, constant pressure, and endless tasks. He did get a one-hour break in the afternoon, but even that wasn't truly his. Calls kept coming, work never stopped, and he never got a moment to rest peacefully.
By the time he returned to his small rented room, he was completely exhausted—physically and mentally. He would barely have the energy to eat. Most nights, he ate quietly and fell asleep immediately.
And then, the same routine repeated.
Every single day.
No peace. No time. No life.
Just survival.
Diharesh actually liked working in a private job. It was in his field, something he had genuine interest in. For a moment, it felt like he was at least connected to his dream. But the workload was overwhelming. It drained him completely, leaving him exhausted every single day.
His manager made things even worse. He was the kind of person who had no respect for anyone. In his eyes, paying a salary meant he had the right to speak however he wanted. Even the smallest mistake would turn into a reason to insult someone. And Diharesh became one of his regular targets. Almost every day, he was scolded for something—sometimes for real mistakes, and sometimes for things that didn't even matter.
Over time, Diharesh noticed something disturbing. Many of the workers there were in a much worse condition than him. They had taken loans from the manager and were now stuck, working there just to repay that debt. They had no freedom to leave. They were trapped. Even when the manager abused them, shouted at them, or used harsh words, they stayed silent. They had no choice.
That reality shook Diharesh.
One day, things went too far. His boss looked at him and said, "Your degrees are useless. People like you should just burn them. You always make mistakes. You won't survive anywhere else."
Those words hit him deeply.
But what could he do?
He worked all day without proper rest. He didn't even have the time or energy to visit his parents. His life had become a routine that never changed—work all day, return to his room, eat quietly, sleep, and repeat.
Days passed like this.
In that place, he made one friend. That friend, seeing his condition, once said, "There is too much pressure here. Why don't you leave this job and go back home? If you talk to your family, they will support you."
Diharesh stayed silent for a moment.
Sometimes, due to stress, he even felt pain in his chest. His body was giving signals, but he ignored them. Finally, he replied, "I don't want to give my family any more worries."
Then, with a faint, broken smile, he said,
"I would rather bleed alone than tell anyone about it."
After many days, he finally got a few days off and went home.
But even there, peace didn't come. There was only one thought in his mind—that he would have to go back again, to the same life he no longer liked. The same job where he had no value.
One day, his mother gently said, "Son, you should buy some new clothes now. Look at other boys your age—they enjoy life, go out, wear new clothes. You don't even go anywhere. Try to stay happy… at least enjoy sometimes."
Diharesh looked at her quietly.
Then he replied, with a calm but heavy voice, "Should I become like them just by wearing new clothes? People out there change colors faster than their clothes. They pretend to be happy. They only care about how they look."
He paused for a moment, then continued,
"I don't like pretending to be happy. I don't want to live a fake life. The day I truly feel satisfied with my life… that's the day I will enjoy it."
Diharesh had a cousin who lived in the same city where he was working. Recently, that cousin had successfully cleared a government job exam. Hearing this, Diharesh decided to meet him.
When they sat together, Diharesh finally opened up. His voice carried confusion, exhaustion, and quiet pain as he said, "I don't understand what I should do anymore."
His cousin listened carefully and then gave him the same advice again—"Start preparing for a government job."
Diharesh looked at him, unsure.
His cousin continued, "The dream you're chasing right now… it doesn't have a stable future.Even I had a dream—to become an engineer. And I did become one. But after that, I was jobless."
He paused, remembering his own struggles.
"When I decided to stay at home and prepare for government exams, people made fun of me. Society laughed at me. They talked behind my back. But this is how society is—they find happiness in your bad days. And when you succeed, the same people come to you with fake smiles and congratulations."
Diharesh stayed silent, listening deeply.
"Don't be afraid of people," his cousin said firmly. "If you keep worrying about what society says, you'll ruin your own life. Think about yourself. Think about your family."
His words grew heavier with truth.
"We don't come from families that have enough money to start a business. If we truly want a better life… if we really want to support our parents, then this is the path. Let people laugh. Let them say whatever they want. You focus on your work. Prepare."
He looked directly into Diharesh's eyes.
"Do you really want to live like this forever? Working all day, unable to even sleep peacefully? If you don't make a decision now, your whole life will pass like this… and you won't be able to change anything."
These words stayed with Diharesh.
For the first time, someone had spoken to him not with judgment, but with understanding—and truth.
And now, he stood at a crossroads.
One path was the life he was already living—exhaustion, low salary, and no respect.
The other path was uncertain, difficult, and required patience—but it carried a possibility… a chance to change everything.
One day at work, Diharesh made a small mistake.
But this time, his boss crossed a line. In front of others, he insulted him harshly, using abusive words. It was the first time something like this had happened so openly.
Diharesh felt a surge of anger inside him. His fists tightened, his heart raced, and for a moment, he wanted to say something back. But he stayed silent. Not because he was weak—but because he was tired of fighting in a place where he had no value.
That moment changed something within him.
On his way back home, one thought kept repeating in his mind—"Enough is enough."
He made a decision.
He would leave the job.
He would start preparing for a government job.
Diharesh returned home and began his preparation. It wasn't easy. The environment around him didn't change overnight.
People started talking.
"Even after studying so much, he's sitting at home now?"
"Preparing again? What was the point of all that education?"
Their words reached him, but this time… he didn't let them affect him. He had heard enough in life already. Now, he chose silence
over explanations.
He focused on his studies.
Day by day, he sat with his books, trying to rebuild himself—not just academically, but mentally.
Sometimes, while studying, his thoughts would drift toward his parents.
His heart would grow heavy.
Even now, they were still doing labor work.
He had grown up, completed his education, and yet… they were still struggling under the same harsh sun. The same heat where rich people walked comfortably with umbrellas, his parents worked in dust and sweat, doing hard physical labor.
The heat that he himself avoided stepping into… his parents faced every single day.
And he couldn't do anything for them.
That feeling hurt him deeply.
But instead of breaking him, it became his strength.
He looked at his books again, this time with a different fire in his eyes.
"If it takes time, I'll accept it," he thought. "But I will get a government job. I will give my parents a better life. They have suffered enough."
For the first time in a long while, Diharesh wasn't just surviving.
He had a purpose.
Diharesh stayed at home, mostly alone, focusing on his preparation. His younger sister worked in another city, and his elder sister—who had refused marriage—spent her entire day at her job. Even at home, there was distance. Diharesh rarely spoke to his elder sister, and he often refused to sit and eat with her. Most of his time was spent alone, buried in books, trying to rebuild his future.
As the exam approached, his cousin called him to stay at his place and prepare together. Diharesh agreed.
He had always wanted to become like his cousin. They both came from poor backgrounds, yet his cousin had worked hard and secured a government job. But what made him truly different was not just his success—it was his nature. Even after achieving so much, he had no ego, no arrogance. He treated everyone with respect and always helped others selflessly.
Despite having a stable job, he welcomed Diharesh into his home and supported his preparation. Diharesh noticed something deeply moving—after eating, his cousin would quietly wash his own dishes. There was no sense of superiority in him, no attitude, nothing.
Watching this, Diharesh began to reflect on his own life.
"Until now," he thought, "I've only met people who never valued me. I was always there for others when they needed me. I gave people importance, trusted them… but in the end, they left me. In my worst time, no one stood by me."
He paused.
"But for the first time… I've met someone like this."
In a world where most people only think about themselves, it was rare to find someone who genuinely wanted the best for you. And his cousin was one of those rare people. Even without expecting anything in return, he was helping Diharesh move forward in life—something many people wouldn't do. Many would rather feel jealous of your success than support it.
Finally, the day came.
Diharesh appeared for the government exam. He gave it his all—every hour of hard work, every sacrifice, every sleepless night.
But just a few days later, shocking news spread.
The exam had been cancelled.
The paper had been leaked.
It would be conducted again.
In that moment, it felt like everything collapsed.
All those days and nights of preparation… all that effort… gone.
Not because he failed—but because the system had failed him.
There was no other exam at that time for him to focus on. It felt like he had nowhere to go.
His parents tried to encourage him, telling him to stay strong. But inside, Diharesh was breaking again.
He called his cousin and said, with frustration in his voice,
"People sitting inside the system… what do they know about our struggles? They don't know how our homes run, how we survive. They already have everything. They earn money in wrong ways… and we are trying to achieve something honestly, through hard work—and this is what happens."
The pain in his words was real.
Diharesh even joined a protest against this injustice. But the response was harsh. The police treated them like criminals, forcefully picking people up, pushing them into vans as if they were animals.
That day, Diharesh saw another reality of the system.
A system that made people wait for years… only to betray them again.
A system where paper leaks destroyed dreams.
A system where people didn't even have time to stand up and fight against injustice.
And somewhere deep inside, a thought echoed—
"In a country where uneducated people run the system… how will they ever understand the pain of an educated unemployed person?"
After everything that had happened, Diharesh returned to his city and once again took up a private job. The situation was the same as before—long working hours, constant exhaustion, and no real time for himself. By the time he returned home, he was so tired that he couldn't even spend time with his family.
When his cousin asked him the reason behind this decision, Diharesh explained calmly, "If I do nothing right now, I'll have a gap in my career. And because of that gap, I won't even get a private job later. I'll be stuck nowhere."
His cousin understood his situation.
At the hospital where his cousin worked in a government position, he did something he had never done before—he requested someone to give Diharesh a chance. Because of that effort, Diharesh got a job there on a contract basis in the laboratory.
But things were not easy there either.
The staff didn't like the fact that Diharesh had come through a recommendation. They didn't treat him properly, and many of them didn't even speak to him respectfully. Still, Diharesh stayed quiet and focused only on his work.
Despite everything, he felt a sense of relief.
At least here, he had time.
Time to breathe… and time to study.
While others wasted their time, talking, scrolling, or simply doing nothing—Diharesh used every free moment to read and prepare. Many of those employees were there only because of connections. For them, the job was just a formality. They came from families that didn't struggle financially. They enjoyed life using their parents' money without understanding its value.
But Diharesh was different.
He never liked asking for money from his family.
Even though he was working in a respected place, he chose a simple life. For food, he often went to a place run by a trust near the hospital, where free meals were provided to the poor. He quietly ate there, without shame, because he knew his reality.
While others acted lazy, Diharesh worked sincerely. In his mind, he often compared this job with his previous private job.
"This is nothing compared to what I went through before," he thought. "That's why I value this opportunity."
And with this mindset, he continued both—his job and his preparation.
Meanwhile, something beautiful happened in his life.
His younger sister gifted him a two-wheeler.
She had studied in a government school, yet in many ways, she had moved ahead of Diharesh. She had always been intelligent, focused, and disciplined—both in school and college. Like Diharesh, she always thought about her parents and their struggles.
She stayed away from relationships, never trusting people easily. She kept her distance, maintaining only simple friendships, never letting emotions distract her from her goals.
Seeing her, Diharesh felt proud.
For the first time in a long while, a genuine smile appeared on his face.
At least one person in his family was moving forward with strength and clarity.
And that gave him hope.
After finishing his job each day, Diharesh would go to the library. That place slowly became his escape—a quiet world where he could focus, think, and move closer to his goals.
There, he made two close friends.
They started studying together, sharing notes, doubts, and sometimes even their struggles. But as time passed, Diharesh began to notice the differences between them.
One of his friends was four years older than him. He had already spent eight years preparing for government exams.
One day, Diharesh couldn't hold back anymore. He looked at him seriously and said,
"Bro, you need to take this seriously. You're not even regular in the library. Your father is 70 years old and still doing labor work… at least think about that."
His voice carried concern, not judgment.
"I'm managing both a job and preparation. You don't even have a backup. These are the most important years of your life. People your age are enjoying, traveling, living their lives… and you've already spent eight years in preparation. And still, you're not serious?"
His friend stayed quiet.
Those words hit him, but whether they would change him… no one knew.
His second friend was different.
His name was Vikrant.
He wasn't preparing out of passion—he was preparing because of pressure.
One day, while sitting in the library, Vikrant opened up to Diharesh. His voice was heavy, filled with frustration.
"My parents have put so much pressure on me to get a job," he said. "They even told me… it would have been better if God had given them a daughter instead of me."
Diharesh was shocked.
Vikrant continued,
"That's the kind of pressure I live with. Because of it, I got addicted to smoking."
He paused, looking down.
"My dream was to become a photographer.
That's what I really wanted. But my family doesn't accept it. They say it's not something they can proudly tell society. They feel ashamed."
There was pain in every word he spoke.
"So now… I'm preparing for this. Not because I want to… but because I have to."
Sitting between these two friends, Diharesh realized something important.
Everyone was fighting their own battle.
One was lost despite having time.
One was forced despite having dreams.
And Diharesh… he was somewhere in between—tired, but still moving forward.
The library wasn't just a place of study anymore.
It had become a place where broken dreams, pressure, and silent struggles sat together… pretending to be strong.
As days passed, Diharesh settled into a routine.
Job… library… study… repeat.
At first, it felt exhausting. But slowly, he began to observe—not just his own life, but the lives around him. The more he watched, the more he started to understand a harsh truth.
"This isn't just happening to me," he thought.
"This is happening to thousands… maybe millions."
He realized that what he once believed to be a clear path—education leading to a stable job—was not as simple as it seemed. For many, it had turned into something else entirely.A system that promised dreams… but delivered uncertainty.
A silent struggle that no one really talked about.
Every day in the library, he saw students who had once dreamed of becoming something else—engineers, scientists, photographers, creators. They had already achieved their education, their qualifications, their dreams on paper.
But now, they were all sitting in the same place.
Preparing for government jobs.
Not because they loved it…But because they needed stability.
Because they had responsibilities.
Because life demanded security more than passion.
Many of them had left their real dreams behind.
Not by choice… but by compulsion.
Some had escaped situations like Diharesh's—low-paying jobs, no respect, no growth. Others were trying to avoid falling into that same trap.
But the cost was heavy.
The pressure… the fear of failure… the uncertainty of the future—it slowly started affecting them. Diharesh noticed how some people changed over time. The stress didn't just stay in their minds; it began to show in their habits.
Some turned to alcohol.
Some became addicted to smoking.
Some just stopped believing in themselves.
Diharesh sat there, watching all of this.
And for the first time, he understood—
This wasn't just his story anymore.
It was the story of an entire generation.
A generation caught between dreams and reality…
Between passion and survival…
Between what they wanted… and what they were forced to become.
Diharesh followed the same routine every day—job, then library.
At the library, he had two close friends: Vikrant and Vijay. They studied together, sat together, and spent most of their time in the same space. But because Diharesh went there daily, he started noticing things that others ignored.
He observed the students carefully.
Most of them came to the library with the intention to study… but their actions told a different story.
They would read for a short time, and then spend much longer scrolling through social media. After a while, they would take their tiffin and go outside to eat. Once they returned, instead of studying, many of them would sleep at their desks. Later, they would wake up, go out for tea, and spend time gossiping—talking about big dreams, big plans… but without real effort.
Then again, they would read for a little while, and by evening, they would leave.
Day after day, the same cycle repeated.
Deep inside, Diharesh knew that they were aware of it too.
They knew they were wasting time.
But they didn't accept it.
And slowly, their study time kept decreasing.
At home, their families believed they were studying seriously, that they were working hard in the library. But in reality, their focus was missing.
And there was a reason for that.
Many of them were preparing without interest. They didn't truly want this path, but they had no other option. Some were forced by family, some by circumstances, and some by fear of failure.
As a result, they couldn't focus.
Years passed like this—seven, eight years of preparation… without progress.
In the end, they neither got a government job nor a private job, because the long gap made it difficult to restart anything.
Their lives got stuck.
Diharesh understood something important.
The biggest problem wasn't lack of time—it was comfort.
The library had become a comfort zone for many people. They sat there every day, pretending to move forward, but never actually questioning themselves.
They never accepted the truth—
that they were not focused,
that social media was consuming their time,
that they were slowly drifting away from their goals.
But there were also different kinds of people.
The ones who thought deeply.
The ones who looked at the long-term.
Those people worked harder than anyone else. They didn't believe in the idea of "Let's see what happens."
Instead, they believed—
"If I work hard today, only then will I have something to see tomorrow."
Because the people who keep saying "We'll see what happens" often don't even get the chance to see anything in the future.
And when that time comes… nothing remains except regret.
Whenever Diharesh felt overwhelmed or lost in his thoughts, he would go and meet his cousin.
His cousin had a calm personality, always speaking with positivity and clarity. There was something about him—every conversation with him gave strength, gave direction. After talking to him, Diharesh always felt like, "Yes… I can do this too."
One day, his cousin told him something that stayed in his mind forever:
"If you stay around four successful people, you will become the fifth one. But if you stay around four negative or careless people, you will become the fifth one among them."
He looked at Diharesh seriously and added,
"That's why your environment matters the most. Keep it positive. Stay away from negativity."
Those words became a rule for Diharesh.
Because now, he knew—
Your future is not only decided by your effort…
but also by the people you choose to stand with.
As time passed, things slowly began to change in Diharesh's life.
Since he was working, and his father had also started getting regular construction work, the financial condition of their home began to improve. It wasn't a sudden transformation, but it was enough to bring a sense of relief.
For the first time, Diharesh made a decision from his heart—he asked his mother to stop working.
She had struggled enough.
Now, it was his turn to take responsibility.
Gradually, small changes started appearing in their home. New electrical appliances came in —a television, a washing machine, and other basic comforts that once felt like luxuries.
It wasn't about showing off.
It was about dignity.
It was about giving his parents the life they deserved.
But as always, not everyone was happy.
Some people began to talk.
"They are just running behind money now…"
"Let them enjoy, it won't last long…"
Whispers, judgments, unnecessary comments—Diharesh was aware of all of it.
But this time, he didn't react.
He had changed.
He thought to himself,
"What's the point of answering people whose questions never end?"
Instead, he chose silence.
He chose focus.
"I'm not doing this for them," he reminded himself. "I'm doing this for my parents."
Deep inside, he understood something clearly People often become jealous not because you are doing wrong—but because they couldn't do what you are doing. Because somewhere, they feel left behind.
And that jealousy turns into criticism.
But Diharesh no longer cared.
It didn't affect him anymore.
All he wanted now was simple—
To see his parents happy.
To give them a life where they didn't have to struggle every single day.
They had spent their entire lives sacrificing for him, working under harsh conditions, ignoring their own comfort.
Now, it was his turn.
And for that, he was ready to ignore the world.
One day, Diharesh went home after hearing that his grandmother had fallen and was injured. Because of this, his younger sister had already left her job for some time and was staying at home, continuing her preparation while also helping take care of the family.
That evening, Diharesh's aunt came to visit.
As soon as she saw the situation at home, her expression changed. Without understanding anything properly, she suddenly got angry and started shouting at Diharesh's younger sister.
"You're making my mother work? Is this how you take care of her?" she said harshly.
Hearing this, something inside Diharesh snapped.
He stepped forward, unable to stay silent anymore.
"None of your other brothers are ready to take care of your mother," he said firmly. "And the one who is taking care of her—you are fighting with them?"
His voice was filled with anger and pain.
"In this house, my mother serves your mother first, before anyone else. And still, you come here and insult us?"
The room fell silent for a moment.
But before things could go further, Diharesh's mother intervened. She stopped him and told him not to speak in between. She didn't want the situation to turn into a bigger conflict.
Soon, his father also came and tried to handle the matter calmly. He suggested that his younger brother should take responsibility for their mother if they felt that she wasn't being cared for properly here.
But before the conversation could settle, his uncle's wife immediately reacted.
"If you want her to stay there, then I will leave," she said sharply.
Her words created more tension instead of solving anything.
In that moment, Diharesh realized something deeply painful.
Even after taking care of his grandmother with honesty, even after giving her respect and priority, his family was still being questioned.
Instead of appreciation, there were accusations.
Instead of understanding, there was conflict.
Slowly, it began to feel like his mother had become a burden in the eyes of others.
Even though she was the one holding everything together, even though she cared for everyone without complaint—people still pointed fingers at her.
And what hurt the most was that even his father, despite doing his best to take care of his mother, was being questioned.
Diharesh stood there, watching everything silently.
But inside, he understood the real reason.
This wasn't just about his grandmother.
This was something else.
Jealousy.
Their family had started moving forward. Their condition was improving. His mother had finally stopped working and was staying at home. There was some stability, some progress.
And not everyone could accept that.
Sometimes, people don't attack you when you are struggling.
They attack you when you start rising.
That day, Diharesh didn't say anything more.
But inside, he made a quiet promise—
No matter how people behave…
No matter how much they misunderstand…
He would protect his family.
Because now he knew—
The biggest battles are not fought outside.
They are fought within your own people.
After finishing his job, Diharesh went to the library as usual. Later, he stepped out with his friends Vikrant and Vijay to have tea.
While they stood there, holding their cups, Vijay suddenly spoke.
"Yesterday, I was having dinner at home," he said quietly. "One of our neighbors came over. She sat there and told me, 'Son, now you should get a job. Your parents are working… it doesn't look good if you just sit at home.'"
He paused for a moment, his expression heavy.
"I couldn't even swallow my food after that. I just got up and left the table."
There was silence between them.
"Who will explain to them," Vijay continued, "that we are actually working hard here?"
Diharesh listened carefully, then took a slow breath and said,
"We are chasing one success… just one. And that one success will be heavier than all our failures combined."
His voice was calm, but firm.
"I've seen many people who are already successful, yet they still work hard. Because they want to go further."
He looked at them both and continued,
"My cousin is in a good government position, but he still studies. Even in the hospital, I see doctors—they already have everything, yet they keep learning like us."
He paused, then added,
"And not just them… even millionaires continue working hard despite having everything."
Vijay and Vikrant listened silently.
Diharesh looked into the distance and spoke again, his words carrying a deeper meaning now.
"People say that nothing we earn will go with us in the end. But I believe something else…"
He looked back at them.
"When the end comes… we should be able to accept it without regret."
His voice grew stronger.
"And for that, we need to work so hard… that nothing in this world can defeat us except death itself."
That moment stayed with them.
It wasn't just a conversation anymore.
It was a reminder—
That their struggle had meaning.
That their pain was building something bigger.
And that one day… all of this would be worth it.
Diharesh looked at Vikrant and Vijay and spoke calmly,
"Right now, I am doing what I once dreamed of—working in a laboratory. This was my goal."
He paused for a moment, then continued,
"But even after achieving this, if I get a government job… I will leave this without hesitation."
Both of them looked at him, slightly surprised.
"Because this job cannot give me a stable life," Diharesh said honestly. "I cannot take real responsibility for my family with this. It's not enough… not in the long run."
His voice carried experience, not just words.
"I've seen that phase too," he continued. "There was a time when I was completely jobless. I was preparing, but most of my days were lost in overthinking."
He looked down for a moment, remembering those days.
"I couldn't even sleep properly. Even without doing much physical work, I felt tired all the time. Mentally exhausted… every single day."
He then looked at them again and said softly,
"So I understand what you both are going through."
There was silence.
Not an uncomfortable one… but a real one.
Because for the first time, it didn't feel like advice.
It felt like truth.
That moment brought them closer.
Not as just friends…
But as people who truly understood each other's struggles.
At his workplace, a girl slowly began to take interest in Diharesh.
At first, it was simple. She would message him occasionally, and their conversations were normal—casual, friendly, nothing more. But as time passed, Diharesh started to feel that this was turning into something beyond friendship.
And that realization scared him.
He had been hurt before. The girl he once loved had left him after four years of relationship—for someone else. That pain had stayed with him, quietly shaping the way he saw people.
So this time, he tried to be careful.
He didn't trust easily. But despite all his efforts, he slowly became attached.
They started talking for long hours on calls. At work, they spent time together. Their bond grew naturally, without force. Both of them knew… there was something real between them.
One day, the girl confessed her feelings.
Diharesh hesitated, but deep inside, he wanted to move on from his past. He wanted to believe again. He wanted to trust someone once more.
So, he did.
They started going out together, spending time, getting closer. For the first time in a long while, Diharesh felt a sense of happiness returning to his life. Even then, he didn't lose focus completely—he continued his studies, balancing both his emotions and his goals.
Everything seemed to be going right.
Until one day…
Diharesh received a call from an unknown number.
The person on the other side said something that shook him completely.
"The girl you're talking to… she is my girlfriend. We've been together since college."
Diharesh was confused, almost irritated.
"Who told you that she's in a relationship with me?" he replied. "And why should I believe you?"
The man answered, "Someone from my city works at your place. He told me everything."
Something felt wrong.
Diharesh didn't ignore it.
He confronted the truth.
After talking further and checking things, it became clear—the man was not lying. There was proof.
Everything was real.
When Diharesh confronted the girl, his voice carried both anger and pain.
"I trusted you this much… and you couldn't even tell me the truth once?"
The girl had only one answer.
"I'm sorry."
That word felt empty.
Diharesh looked at her and said,
"Your 'sorry' cannot fix what you've done. Not to me… and not to the person you're already in a relationship with. You broke his trust too."
That was enough.
Diharesh didn't argue further.
He blocked her.He walked away.
But walking away didn't mean it didn't hurt.
Inside, he was shattered again.
He kept thinking—
"How can people go this far… just for timepass?"
After spending so much time together, after building something that felt real… everything ended suddenly.
Maybe for her, it didn't matter.
Maybe she would find someone else again.
But for Diharesh…It broke something inside him.
For a few days, he felt lost. A quiet sadness stayed with him. He became a little distant, a little silent.
But life didn't stop.
His exams were approaching.
And he knew—he couldn't afford to break completely.
So, he gathered himself again.
He tried to focus on his studies.
Because no matter how many times life hit him…he had only one choice—
To stand up again.
Diharesh couldn't focus completely during his preparation.
When the results came, he missed the merit list… by just a few marks.
So did his friends.
For a moment, it felt heavy—but Diharesh didn't break.
He looked at himself and thought,
"Nothing is over yet. I can still do this. I won't give up until I succeed."
There was determination in his mind.
But not everyone was as strong.
Vikrant… had already lost hope.
The pressure from his family, the expectations, the constant questions from society—all of it had slowly crushed him from inside. He had been carrying it silently for a long time.
When he went home after the result, things got worse.
His parents, out of frustration and anger, said things they didn't fully realize the weight of. Words that were meant as pressure… turned into pain.
Words that stayed.
The next day, Diharesh tried to call Vikrant.
He knew his situation. He understood what Vikrant might be going through. Something
didn't feel right.
The phone rang.
But it wasn't Vikrant who answered.
It was his sister.
Her voice was trembling.
She was crying.
And through those broken words, she said something that froze everything around Diharesh—
"Vikrant… has committed suicide."
For a moment, Diharesh couldn't process it.
His mind went blank.
The phone slipped slightly from his hand.
It felt unreal.
Just yesterday… they were sitting together in the library. Talking. Sharing their struggles.
And now…
He was gone.
Without wasting a second, Diharesh rushed to his friend's house.
His heart was racing, his thoughts were scattered.
A thousand questions filled his mind—"Why didn't I understand sooner?"
"Why didn't I stop him?"
"Why didn't he say anything?"
But deep inside, he knew the truth.
Sometimes… people don't show how broken they are.
Sometimes… they smile, talk, sit with you…
And still, they are fighting a battle you cannot see.
That day, Diharesh didn't just lose a friend.
He witnessed the cost of pressure.
The cost of silence.
The cost of a system and a society that pushes people… until they break.
And as he stood there, moving toward Vikrant's house, one thought echoed in his mind—
"This fight… is not just about success anymore."
"It's about survival."
Diharesh and Vijay went together to Vikrant's house.
The moment they entered, the atmosphere felt heavy—silent, broken, unbearable.
Vikrant's parents were shattered.
His mother was crying uncontrollably, and his father sat there in silence, completely lost. The same people who once pressured him for success were now left with nothing… except regret.
The house that once held expectations… now held grief.
Diharesh stood there, unable to say anything at first.
His eyes moved around the room, but his mind kept replaying memories—Vikrant sitting in the library, talking, smiling, hiding everything inside.
He felt a deep pain in his chest.
After some time, he stepped outside with Vijay.
Both of them were silent.
Then Diharesh finally spoke, his voice heavy but firm,
"Promise me one thing… you will never think of doing something like this."
Vijay looked at him, his eyes filled with fear and emotion.
"If things don't work out… we will tell our families. We will face it. But we won't choose this path."
Diharesh took a deep breath and continued,
"Look at his parents… they pressured him so much. And now… they are left with nothing except regret."
His voice shook slightly.
"Dying may seem easy in that moment… but living through pain every day is much harder. And still… we have to choose to live."
He looked straight at Vijay and said,"Don't become so weak that you choose this path. No matter how bad things get… this is never the answer."
That day changed something in both of them.
They didn't just lose a friend.
They understood the value of life… and the danger of silence.
As they walked away, Diharesh carried a new weight in his heart—
Not just his own struggles…
But the responsibility to never let himself or the people around him fall that far.
Diharesh was deeply focused on his exam preparation.
During this time, he heard that one of his childhood friends—someone he no longer spoke to—was getting engaged. All their old friends were there, celebrating together. But no one remembered Diharesh.
No one called him.
No one cared.
For a moment, it hurt.
He thought about the past—those days of childhood, the laughter, the bond they once shared. And now, it felt like he had been left behind.
But this time… it didn't break him.
He had already faced too many bitter experiences in life. Slowly, he had learned to accept that people change… and sometimes, they leave without a reason.
A few days later, another situation shook him deeply.
His grandmother fell seriously ill.
She wanted to see him.
But Diharesh couldn't go home.
His exams were very close, and he knew he couldn't afford to lose focus now. Meanwhile, his mother was taking care of his grandmother day and night, without rest.
At home, painting work was going on. In between all this, Diharesh's mother said something to his grandmother, trying to give her hope—
"Your dream was to see Diharesh's wedding. You will see it… you will be there."
His grandmother believed it.
That hope gave her strength.
That night, when everyone had gone to sleep, despite being extremely weak, she slowly stepped outside into the courtyard. She wanted to see the house… the work… the life around her.
As if she was imagining that moment—Diharesh's wedding, the happiness, the celebration.But her body couldn't take it.
She collapsed.
The next morning, when she regained consciousness, she had only one wish—
To see Diharesh.
His mother called him and said softly,
"Come home… maybe this is the last time she wants to see you."
Diharesh hesitated.
He thought there was still time.
He decided he would go after a few days. He even planned to take leave from his job and preparation.
But before he could go…
She was gone.
Diharesh couldn't meet her one last time.
Not while she was alive.
That regret stayed.
When he finally reached home, all the rituals were already over.
The house felt empty.
Different.
Something was missing… forever.
And then, something happened that shocked him even more.
His aunt came forward and said,
"Give me my mother's jewelry."
Diharesh stood there, stunned.
His grandmother had just passed away… and this was the first thing she asked for.
He couldn't believe it.
She added,
"If you want to give it, give it. Otherwise, I'll leave."
Without saying much, Diharesh's father gave all his mother's jewelry to his sister.
No argument.
No hesitation.
Diharesh looked at his own mother.
The woman who had spent her entire life serving that same mother-in-law. Taking care of her, respecting her, sacrificing everything.
And yet…
She didn't ask for anything.
Not even a single word.
That day, Diharesh understood something very deeply.
There are people in this world…
who can surprise you in ways you never imagined.
Not always with kindness.
Sometimes… with the absence of it.
As time passed, the moment finally arrived.
Diharesh cleared the exam.
He got a government job.
When he went home with the news, something happened that he had never seen before in his life.
For the first time… he saw his father cry.
His father—the same man who had stayed strong even when his own mother had passed away, who had held back his tears through pain and loss—couldn't hold them back this time.
But these were not tears of sorrow.
They were tears of happiness.
Years of struggle, sacrifice, and silent pain… finally found meaning in that moment.
The house that once carried tension, worry, and uncertainty… was now filled with relief.
His parents looked at him with pride.
Not because he had achieved something big in the eyes of the world…
But because he had fulfilled their hope.
People reacted in different ways.
Some were genuinely happy for him.
Some praised him.
And some… didn't like it.
But this time, it didn't matter.
Because Diharesh hadn't done any of this to prove anything to the world.
He had done it for his family.
For the people who stood with him when no one else did.
Slowly, life moved forward.
The struggles didn't disappear from his memories—but they turned into strength.
The pain didn't vanish—but it became part of his journey.With time, another chapter of his life began.
Diharesh got married.
A new beginning.
A new responsibility.
A new life.
But deep inside, he remained the same person—
The one who had walked miles in dust and heat…
The one who had faced rejection, loneliness, and loss…
The one who had fallen… and stood up again.
And now, standing at this point in his life, he knew one thing for sure—
This wasn't just his success.
It was the result of every sacrifice his parents made…
Every pain he endured…
And every time he chose not to give up.
This is not just an ending…
It's a complete journey. 🔥
Author's Note
This story, up to this point, is based on real events.
Every struggle, every emotion, every hardship you have read so far is true. There is nothing fictional in this journey until here. It reflects the reality of countless lives—the pain of rejection, the weight of expectations, and the silent battles fought every day.
From this point forward, the story will take a different direction.
It will evolve and connect with the world of Blue Barrizoc, where imagination and reality will merge. The journey ahead will be shaped not only by truth, but also by creation.
But always remember—
the foundation of this story is real.
And that is what makes it powerful.
Diharesh was returning home from his job.
As he walked across a bridge, he noticed a girl approaching from the opposite side. The moment he recognized her, he immediately turned his face away, looking down toward the river beneath the bridge.
It was her.
The same girl who had once been in a four-year relationship with him… and then left him.
There was a time when those memories used to hurt him every single day. He couldn't trust anyone. He carried that pain everywhere. But now, he had changed.
He had grown.
They crossed each other like strangers—as if they had never known each other.
For a brief moment, memories flashed in his mind—the past, the emotions, the bond they once shared. But he didn't stop. He didn't look back.
"Maybe this was never meant to be," he thought quietly, and kept walking.
As he moved forward, something caught his attention.
He glanced down from the bridge and noticed a strange light in the water—something unusual, almost unreal. It appeared for a moment… and then disappeared.
Confused, he looked more carefully.
And then he saw it.
A man was drowning.
Without wasting a second, Diharesh rushed down, jumped in, and managed to pull the man out of the water. He quickly took him to the hospital.
While checking his belongings, Diharesh found an ID card.
The man's name was Sahil.
At the hospital, Diharesh gave his phone number to the staff and said,
"Please inform me about his condition. I need to go home now—my family must be worried, and my phone battery is also dead."
Then he left.
When he reached home, his mother was still awake.
He looked at her and asked softly, "Did you eat?"
She replied, "Your wife didn't listen to me. She made sure I ate. I was waiting for you… I was worried."
Diharesh smiled faintly.
His father was lying down, appearing to be asleep. But Diharesh knew the truth.
He wasn't sleeping.
He was just pretending—waiting, thinking, worrying.
Even though he never showed it openly, his love was no less than his mother's.
When Diharesh went to his room, he saw his wife sitting on the sofa… asleep.
She had been waiting for him.
She hadn't even eaten.
He gently woke her up, and they sat together and had dinner.
As he ate, Diharesh looked around quietly.
His home.
His family.
This life.
And he thought to himself—
"My life is good now."
"All the sacrifices I made… brought me here."
"I have a family that truly cares about me."
For the first time in a long while, he felt something different.
Peace.
"I won't live in the past anymore," he decided.
"Whatever I have right now… I will learn to enjoy it."
But somewhere, deep inside…
That strange light in the water…And the man named Sahil…
Felt like the beginning of something else.
Something unknown.
Something bigger.
The next morning, Diharesh received a call from the hospital.
His heart felt uneasy as he picked it up.
"Hello?"
The staff on the other side sounded confused.
"Sir… the patient you brought yesterday… he is not here."
Diharesh frowned. "What do you mean? I admitted him last night."
"Yes, sir," the staff replied, "but he is missing. We checked everywhere… even the CCTV footage. There is no sign of him leaving. We don't know where he went."
For a moment, Diharesh couldn't understand what he had just heard.
"That's not possible," he said slowly. "He was unconscious… how can someone like that just disappear overnight?"
But there was no answer.
Only silence… and confusion.
The call ended.
And Diharesh stood there, lost in thought.
The image of that strange light under the bridge flashed in his mind.
The man drowning…
The name on the ID card—
Sahil.
Something didn't feel normal.
Something wasn't right.
A person who was unconscious…
A hospital with CCTV cameras…
And yet… no trace.
As if he was never there.
Diharesh looked ahead, his expression slowly turning serious.
For the first time in a long while…
he felt something different.
Not pain.
Not pressure.
But a mystery.
And deep inside, a thought echoed—
"Who was Sahil…?"
Part 5 Ends.