A City of Dreams and Struggles

Lucknow, the City of Nawabs, is known for its enchanting mornings filled with the aroma of chai and the sound of prayers, and its nights steeped in old tales and history. Amidst the narrow, bustling streets of this city, Hari pedaled his rickshaw every day, carrying the weight of his life’s struggles on three wheels.

Hari was 50 years old, his face lined with wrinkles that told stories of hardship and sorrow. For the past 30 years, he had been navigating Lucknow’s streets, earning just enough to scrape by. His rickshaw was old, its seat torn, but Hari’s heart was pure gold. Every passenger was more than just a fare to him—they were a chance to share a few words and momentarily escape his lonely world.

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Hari lived in a small, one-room house in a settlement by the Gomti River with his wife, Shanti. Their life was simple, yet it carried a deep void—a pain that no amount of time could heal. Ten years ago, their only son, eight-year-old Mohan, fell victim to an illness that could only be treated in the city’s expensive hospitals. Hari sold everything he owned, worked day and night, and borrowed money to save his son. But despite his efforts, he couldn’t gather enough funds for Mohan’s treatment. One fateful day, Mohan passed away in Hari’s arms, unable to fight the illness any longer.

Since that day, Hari and Shanti had forgotten how to truly live. But they refused to let their grief break them. Instead, they decided to dedicate their remaining years to helping others. Hari set aside a small portion of his meager earnings to buy books for the children in his settlement and food for the hungry. He had a dream—a big dream. He wanted to build a small clinic in his settlement, named after his son Mohan, so that no other poor child would suffer the same fate as his son.

Hari kept a small box in his rickshaw, labeled “Mohan’s Clinic.” At the end of each day, he would drop whatever coins he had left into the box. Over ten years, he had managed to save only a few thousand rupees. But Hari’s hope remained alive.

A Stormy Night and a Fateful Encounter

That night, Lucknow was battered by a fierce storm. Heavy rain, strong winds, and thunder lit up the skies. The streets turned into rivers, and people stayed indoors, seeking shelter from the chaos. It was 11 PM, and Hari was returning home, drenched and exhausted. The storm had ruined his day’s earnings, leaving him disheartened.

As he pedaled through Hazaratganj, he noticed an elderly man standing outside the gate of a large, old mansion. The man was soaked to the bone, clutching his chest tightly, his face contorted in pain. He was struggling to breathe, and no car stopped to help him—perhaps mistaking him for a beggar.

Hari immediately stopped his rickshaw and rushed to the man. “Sahab, are you alright? You don’t look well,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

The elderly man barely opened his eyes and whispered, “Take me to the hospital… my heart…”

Hari’s heart sank as memories of his son flooded back. Mohan had struggled to breathe just like this. Without wasting a second, Hari helped the man into his rickshaw, wiped his face with his torn towel, and reassured him, “Don’t worry, Seth Ji. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The man’s clothes and watch hinted at his wealth—he was no ordinary person. But Hari didn’t care. He pedaled through the flooded streets with all his strength, ignoring the rain that drenched him further. “Keep your eyes open, Seth Ji. We’re almost there. Think of your family. Everything will be fine,” Hari kept talking to keep the man conscious.

The elderly man was Seth Damodar Das, one of the city’s richest and most influential industrialists. Despite his pain, Hari’s words gave him an odd sense of comfort, as if an angel had come to save him.

After a grueling half-hour struggle, Hari reached the city’s largest private hospital. He shouted for help, and doctors and nurses rushed out to bring the Seth inside. Hari sat on a bench outside, soaked and shivering, but he didn’t leave. He prayed for the stranger’s survival.

Two hours later, a doctor came out and said, “You brought him just in time. A few minutes later, and it could have been fatal. He’s stable now.”

Hari breathed a sigh of relief, thanked the heavens, and quietly left without asking for money or recognition.

A Reward Like No Other

Seth Damodar Das spent the next few days recovering in the hospital. When he regained consciousness, he asked his manager to find the rickshaw driver who had saved his life. “That man saved me. I need to repay his kindness,” he said.

The manager searched every rickshaw stand in the city but couldn’t find Hari. Seth began to lose hope of meeting his savior again. But fate had other plans.

One week later, Hari was waiting for passengers outside the same hospital when the manager spotted him. He immediately took Hari to Seth Damodar Das’s private room.

Hari was overwhelmed by the luxury of the room. Seth was sitting on the bed, his face filled with gratitude. “Come closer,” he said gently. Hari hesitated but stepped forward.

“That night, you saved my life. I can never repay your kindness,” Seth said. Hari folded his hands humbly. “Seth Ji, I only did my duty.”

“No,” Seth replied. “You went far beyond your duty. Tell me what you want. I want to reward your honesty and goodness.” He handed Hari a blank check. “Write any amount. A new house, jewelry for your wife, education for your children—whatever you desire.”

Hari stared at the blank check, his mind racing. He could end his struggles with a single stroke of the pen. But then he remembered his son Mohan’s innocent face and the dream he had nurtured for years. Hari gently pushed the check back and said, “Seth Ji, I don’t need your money.”

Seth was stunned. “You don’t want money? Then what do you want?”

With tears in his eyes, Hari said, “If you truly want to help me, fulfill a grieving father’s dream. Build a small clinic in my settlement, named after my son Mohan, where poor children can receive free treatment. That’s all I ask.”

Seth Damodar Das was speechless. He had seen people change colors for money, but here was a man asking for nothing for himself—only for others. Seth’s eyes welled up. “Hari, you’ve shown me what true wealth is. You are the real rich man here.”

A Dream Fulfilled

Seth Damodar Das decided to go beyond Hari’s request. He dedicated half of his wealth to building the city’s largest charitable children’s hospital, named Mohan Children’s Hospital. The hospital offered free treatment to children, ensuring that no child would suffer because of poverty.

Hari was made the hospital’s chief trustee. He no longer drove a rickshaw but spent his days serving children, seeing Mohan’s smile in their faces. Seth spent his remaining years at the hospital, finding solace in the lives he helped save.

This story reminds us that true wealth lies in kindness and selflessness. Hari’s act of compassion not only saved a life but transformed thousands of others. If this story touched your heart, share it with others and spread the message of humanity and service. Remember, even the smallest act of kindness can change the world.