4 Winters as a Delivery Boy – Chapter 1

One Student’s Journey from Village Fields to London Streets

Chapter -1

Roots in Mokama

In the heart of Bihar, nestled along the banks of the Ganges River, lies a small,
sleepy village named Mokama. Life here moves to the rhythm of the seasons,
where lush green fields sway with the breeze, and the cries of birds echo across
the open sky. It is here, in a modest mud-brick house with a thatched roof and
an open courtyard, that Ryan was born—the first child of a hardworking
farmer.
Ryan’s father, Ram Naresh, was a man of few words but many sacrifices.
Every morning, before the sun rose above the mist-covered horizon, he would
set off with his plough and oxen, preparing the soil for the next crop. The land
was not fertile enough to promise abundance, but he worked it with
unwavering determination. Farming in Mokama wasn’t a profession; it was a
way of life, passed down through generations. Despite the callouses on his
hands and the deep lines on his face, Ram Naresh never complained. His
dreams didn’t live in the fields—his dreams lived in his children.
Ryan’s mother, Meena Devi, managed the household with silent grace. She
cooked, cleaned, stitched torn clothes, and raised her children with values

rooted in simplicity and love. Their home may have lacked modern amenities,
but it overflowed with affection, warmth, and a sense of togetherness.
Ryan, the eldest of four siblings, grew up with an unspoken sense of duty.
He had three younger sisters—Saroja, Anuja, and Bipasha—each one full of
curiosity, energy, and dreams of their own. Saroja loved drawing on the mud
walls with coal; Anuja could recite poems from memory with theatrical flair;
and Bipasha, the youngest, followed Ryan like a shadow, clinging to his arm
and laughing at all his jokes. Ryan adored them. He was their protector, tutor,
and playmate—all rolled into one.
Even as a child, Ryan’s mind wandered beyond the boundaries of the
village. He was fascinated by machines and technology, despite having never
touched a computer. The only computer he had ever seen was in an old
textbook, with a grainy image of a monitor and a keyboard. He would stare at
it for hours, trying to imagine how it worked.
“One day, I’ll build one,” he often whispered to himself.
School was a small concrete building with tin sheets for a roof. There were no
digital smartboards or air-conditioned classrooms—just wooden benches, a
blackboard, and a dedicated teacher who cycled in from a nearby town. Ryan
loved going to school. His uniform may have been torn at the sleeves, and his
shoes worn down at the soles, but his heart brimmed with ambition. He
studied under kerosene lamps during power cuts and revised lessons while
grazing cattle. He borrowed books from older cousins and read them until the
pages nearly fell apart.
His brilliance didn’t go unnoticed. In Class Eight, Ryan earned a
government scholarship for academic excellence—an achievement that

brought immense pride to his family. His father, who barely smiled, had tears
in his eyes the day Ryan’s name was announced. “This is just the beginning,
beta,” he said, placing a rough hand on his son’s shoulder. “One day, you’ll
change our destiny.”
The village celebrated Ryan’s success as their own. Neighbours brought
sweets, and elders blessed him generously. But Ryan didn’t let it go to his head.
He knew the road ahead was long and uncertain. After completing his SSC
exams with distinction this year, he now prepared for the Higher Secondary
Certificate (HSC) exams. He spent every free moment buried in books,
determined to secure admission in a good college.
At the same time, he never forgot his roots. On weekends and during
school holidays, Ryan still helped his father in the fields—ploughing, planting,
and harvesting. He didn’t mind the sun or the mud. To him, each grain of rice
they grew was a step closer to his dreams. His father, despite his poverty, never
let Ryan feel deprived. If Ryan needed a tuition class, a notebook, or a better
pen, his father would find a way—even if it meant skipping a meal himself.
Ryan’s dream was clear: to become a computer engineer. He wanted to
design machines that solved real-world problems, to write codes that could
change lives, and one day, to return to Mokama not just as a success story, but
as an inspiration for every child who dared to dream despite their
circumstances.
But dreams, especially in villages like Mokama, come with a cost. As
winter approached, Ryan would soon have to make a tough choice—a choice
that would shape his future in ways he couldn’t yet imagine. That winter, he
would take his first step outside the village—not for fun, not for vacation—but
to earn. To work. To survive.

The story of 4 Winters as a Delivery Boy begins here—not in a city, not on a
bike, but in the dusty lanes of a forgotten village, in the heart of a boy who
refused to let poverty define his future.

To be continued –

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