Story#1: The inspiring story of Dashrath Majhi
The Mountain Man: A Story of Dashrath Manjhi
In the quiet village of Gehlaur, nestled near Gaya in the eastern Indian state of Bihar, a boy named Dashrath Manjhi was born on January 14, 1934. The land he called home was unforgiving, marked by dry fields and a formidable mountain ridge that cut Gehlaur off from the world beyond. Life was hard, opportunities scarce, and the towering rocks that loomed over the village seemed as immovable as fate itself.
Like many of his generation, Dashrath ran away from home as a young boy. He found work in the coal mines of Dhanbad, covered in soot and sweat, learning the ways of survival in a world that showed little mercy to the poor. But eventually, he returned to Gehlaur, perhaps hoping for a quieter life. There, he married Falguni Devi, the woman he loved.
The village had no road, no electricity, and little access to basic services. Gehlaur sat on the plains, but just beyond it, the Rajgir hills rose steep and unyielding, their quartzite ridge millions of years old. On the other side of those hills were hospitals, schools, and markets—things Dashrath and his people could only dream of. The road to the nearest hospital wound around the mountain, stretching over 70 kilometers.
In 1959, tragedy struck. Falguni Devi fell seriously ill. Dashrath tried everything he could to get her medical attention. But the journey to the hospital was long and arduous, and they never made it in time. She died, not from a lack of medicine, but from a lack of access.
Grief transformed into a vow. Dashrath Manjhi looked up at the ridge that had stolen his wife and decided it would not claim another life. He would carve a path through the mountain, alone if he had to.
People laughed. They called him mad. A poor laborer with no training, no money, and only a hammer and chisel—how could he ever hope to cut through stone?
But Dashrath did not listen.
Day after day, night after night, under the burning sun and monsoon rains, he chipped away at the mountain. He sold his goats to buy tools. He worked as a farmhand during the day and broke rocks at night. Often, his hands bled. He went hungry. But he did not stop.
What began as a madman’s dream turned into a mission that would last 22 years.
And then, one day, it was done.
Dashrath Manjhi had carved a path 110 meters long, 9.1 meters wide, and 7.7 meters deep through the solid rock of the Rajgir hills. The distance from Gehlaur to Wazirganj dropped from 70 kilometers to just 1 kilometer. The path to the nearest hospital was now only 15 kilometers—no longer unreachable in times of need.
The people who had once mocked him now walked the road he built. Word of the Mountain Man spread beyond the village, beyond the state, and all the way to New Delhi. Dashrath traveled there, seeking recognition not for himself, but for the people of Gehlaur. Eventually, the government acknowledged his incredible feat. The Chief Minister of Bihar, Nitish Kumar, honored him for his determination and sacrifice.
Dashrath Manjhi passed away on August 17, 2007, but his legacy did not die with him. In 2016, the Indian government issued a postage stamp in his name, forever etching his story into the fabric of the nation.
Dashrath Manjhi didn’t just carve a road—he carved a path through despair, through doubt, through grief. With nothing but love and a chisel, he proved that even the mightiest mountain can be moved by the strength of the human will.
