“I kept moving along with life”
By Prof. S. S. Dogra
Childhood holds a special place in everyone’s life. There are certain incidents from those early years that remain etched in our memories forever. My own childhood was marked by constant struggles. Among those memories, one particular incident stands out because it taught me an invaluable lesson in life.
Yes, this story dates back to 1980, when we lived in Nangloi, Delhi. My father was suffering from tuberculosis (TB), and as a result, our family was going through severe financial hardship. One day, I shared our situation with my classmate, Dalchand. Without hesitation, he suggested a simple way to earn some pocket money in just an hour every morning.
His idea was to distribute newspapers door-to-door. All I needed was a bicycle and the willingness to wake up early. Every morning, I would collect bundles of newspapers from the transport centre at Punjabi Bagh and deliver different newspapers and magazines to homes in Nangloi Camp No. 1, Bhooton Wali Gali, Camp No. 3, and Camp No. 4.
At that time, I was studying in Class VIII at Amalvas Nangloi No. 4 School. I continued delivering newspapers regularly for nearly three years. The income helped me meet my educational expenses and also contribute to my family’s financial needs.
During those years, I tied heavy bundles of newspapers to the handlebar of my bicycle with a rope and delivered them to nearly eighty customers, regardless of whether it was raining, storming, or bitterly cold. I climbed from the ground floor to the third floor, placing newspapers secured with rubber bands at customers’ doorsteps.
At the beginning of every month, I would collect payments by distributing monthly bills to my customers. However, I vividly remember one incident involving a roadside eatery (dhaba) near Jwalapuri Bus Stand. The owner had not paid me for four months, despite repeated reminders.
I shared my frustration with my childhood friend Sanjeev. He immediately understood my predicament. The very next day, carrying a hockey stick in his hand, he accompanied me to the dhaba to help recover my dues. As soon as we arrived, he firmly warned the owner:
“Pay him his newspaper dues immediately, or your dhaba will be shut down today. Do you know that he is selling newspapers to finance his education and support his family? Yet you treat him as if he doesn’t matter.”
The dhaba owner, a sturdy Punjabi Jatt, understood that Sanjeev meant business. Reluctantly, he slid a ₹100 note towards me and asked,
“If you’re studying, why do you distribute newspapers? Why don’t you teach tuition classes instead?”
Little did he know that this casual suggestion would change the course of my life? From the very next week, I started teaching part-time tuition classes, a profession that continued for nearly fifteen years.
Even today, whenever I see a newspaper hawker delivering newspapers, my mind instantly travels back to those unforgettable days of childhood. In 2015, I shared this very episode during an interview at the Community Radio Station run by Govind Ballabh Pant University of Agriculture and Technology, Rudrapur, with radio presenter Sanjay Ji.
Today, when my own articles are published in newspapers and my several books, I feel immense pride. It gives me great satisfaction to know that my hard work and perseverance have borne fruit. Whenever I recall this chapter of my life, I find myself humming the timeless song from the film Hum Dono, beautifully written by Sahir Ludhianvi, immortalized in the soulful voice of Mohammed Rafi, and picturized on the legendary Dev Anand:
Main Zindagi Ka Saath Nibhata Chala Gaya
Har Fikr Ko Dhuein Mein Udaata Chala Gaya.
Jo Mil Gaya Usi Ko Muqaddar Samajh Liya,
Jo Kho Gaya Main Usko Bhulata Chala Gaya.
“I kept moving along with life;
I kept blowing every worry away in the smoke.
Whatever came my way, I accepted as my destiny;
Whatever I lost, I simply let go and moved on.”
[Prof. S. S. Dogra, Bureau Chief (Delhi), Himalini Magazine, Nepal; Author of Several Influential Books)
