Chapter 5 – Failure Tastes Bitter....
The street outside the school had begun to feel like Sanjay’s kingdom. For three weeks straight, he stood there each morning and afternoon, calling out his lines with the same steady voice:
“Good pens, strong notebooks, best price!”
At first people had laughed. Now, they bought. Students waved at him, some even called him Pen-wala Bhaiya. Every evening he returned home with jingling coins, his face brighter than the setting sun.
His mother smiled more these days. His sister Meera bragged to her friends. Even his father, though silent, no longer scolded him.
Sanjay began to dream bigger. If I can sell pens here, why not open a proper stall? Why not double my stock?
One evening, as he packed up, a thin man in a faded kurta approached. His moustache twitched when he smiled.
“You’re doing well, lad,” the man said. “My name is Karim. I run a stationery shop in the main bazaar. If you buy from me, I’ll give you stock at half the price. You’ll earn double.”
Sanjay’s eyes widened. Half the price? Double profit? It sounded like the doorway to a brighter world.
Karim leaned closer. “Bring your savings tomorrow. I’ll make you a proper businessman.”
That night, Sanjay could hardly breathe from excitement. He told his mother.
“Be careful,” she warned. “Not every smile is honest.”
But Sanjay’s heart was already sold to the dream.
The next morning, he carried his cloth bag heavy with coins—nearly seventy rupees now—to Karim’s shop in the bazaar.
The man welcomed him warmly, pulled out boxes of pens and notebooks, and spoke quickly, almost sweetly.
“Here, these pens—excellent quality. These notebooks—students will fight to buy them. All for you, only thirty rupees for the lot. Tomorrow, you’ll thank me.”
Sanjay’s hands trembled as he handed over his hard-earned coins. Karim pushed the boxes across the counter, his moustache twitching again.
“Go, boy. Sell. Become rich.”
The next day, Sanjay set up proudly with his new stock. He shouted louder than ever.
But something was wrong.
Students picked up the pens and frowned. The nibs bent after one line. The notebooks’ pages tore at a touch.
“What is this garbage?” one boy shouted. “You’re cheating us!”
Another flung the notebook back at Sanjay’s chest. Laughter rang around him.
Within an hour, his dream had shattered. No one bought. His reputation—built with sweat and hope—lay in the dust like torn paper.
That evening, Sanjay stormed into Karim’s shop.
“These pens are useless! The notebooks are trash!” he shouted.
Karim’s eyes turned cold. “You bought them. I never forced you. No refunds.”
“But my money—my work—everything is gone!” Sanjay cried.
The man shrugged. “That’s business. Learn it or leave it.”
Sanjay felt the room spin. His stomach twisted with rage, but when he opened his mouth, no words came. Karim had already turned his back.
Walking home, Sanjay’s legs dragged like lead. By the time he reached his door, his face was pale, his body hollow. His mother looked at him and understood without asking.
He collapsed on the floor. “I lost it, Amma. All of it. My money, my name… gone.”
For the first time in years, tears burned his eyes. He had faced hunger, faced laughter, faced insults—but this was different. This was betrayal.
That night, lying on the cold roof, he whispered bitterly:
“Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am nothing. Maybe I’ll always be nothing.”
The stars above gave no answer. Only the silence of failure wrapped around him, colder than the wind.
And Sanjay, for the first time, felt the heavy taste of defeat—
a taste far more bitter than hunger.
✨ End of Chapter 5 ✨
