Ajay was the kind of man everyone feared in the neighbourhood. As a local gangster, his name alone sent shivers down people’s spines. He was tough, unforgiving, and always had his way—no matter what the cost. Most people avoided eye contact with him, and those who dared cross his path regretted it soon after. His world was built on intimidation, and for years, that’s how he survived.
One evening, Ajay came back to his small room above the tea stall and noticed a crumpled letter lying on the floor, shoved under the door. Frowning, he picked it up. It looked like something a kid might have written. He opened it, and as his eyes scanned the childish handwriting, something inside him shifted.
“Dear Ajay bhaiya,
Why do you hurt people? My papa says everyone has love in their heart, but I don’t see it in you. My teacher says people who are angry are actually sad inside. Are you sad, bhaiya? I think you can be kind if you want to. You don’t have to be angry. My papa says we are all made from love. I hope you find your love again.
Your friend,
Rohit”
Ajay stared at the words, feeling strangely unsettled. This boy, Rohit, was one of the kids who played cricket outside the tea stall. Ajay had seen him a few times but never paid any attention. But now, this innocent child was asking him why he hurt people. “Are you sad?” the letter asked. Ajay crumpled the paper and shoved it into his pocket, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feelings that had started stirring in him.
But as the days passed, the words haunted him. “Everyone has love in their heart…” Ajay couldn’t shake it off. His mind wandered back to his own childhood—days when he was just like Rohit, carefree and full of life, before the streets hardened him into someone else entirely. He had lost his parents young, grown up hungry and angry, and learned quickly that being soft would only get him hurt. But now, a kid was telling him he could be kind?
One evening, a few days later, Ajay was at the tea stall when he saw Rohit running after his cricket ball, which rolled into the busy street. Without thinking, Rohit darted after it. Ajay’s heart stopped. He saw a speeding car coming, its driver oblivious to the little boy in its path.
Everything happened in a blur. Ajay dropped his cup of tea and bolted into the road, grabbing Rohit just in time. They both tumbled to the ground, the car screeching past them. For a moment, there was silence. Ajay, panting and shaken, looked at the terrified boy in his arms. Rohit’s eyes were wide, filled with both fear and surprise.
“Bhaiya…?” Rohit whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.
Ajay pulled Rohit closer, something he hadn’t felt in years crashing over him like a tidal wave. It wasn’t anger, or fear—it was love. A deep, forgotten love he didn’t know still existed inside him. As the boy trembled in his arms, Ajay realized that the walls he had built around his heart had begun to crumble. Rohit had written him that letter, seeing in him something Ajay had lost long ago.
He stood up, still holding the boy, and looked down at Rohit’s face. “Don’t ever run into the street like that again,” he said, his voice softer than he had ever remembered it being.
The crowd that had gathered around watched in stunned silence. Ajay—the feared gangster—had just saved a child’s life. Without saying a word, Ajay carried Rohit back to the tea stall, where his friends were waiting in shock.
As he gently set Rohit down, the child looked up at him with a beaming smile. “I knew you were kind, bhaiya!” Rohit said, wiping his tears with his sleeve.
Ajay felt a lump rise in his throat. For the first time in years, he didn’t have a tough reply. He didn’t know how to respond. But Rohit’s words echoed in his heart: “I knew you were kind.”
Ajay stood there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the boy’s innocent trust. He glanced at the crumpled letter still in his pocket and realized that maybe Rohit was right. Maybe he wasn’t beyond saving after all. The blockages that had caged him for so long were starting to lift, and for the first time in his life, Ajay felt something he thought had died inside him—a glimmer of peace.
The next morning, as the sun rose over the bustling street, Ajay made a decision. He walked into the local school, where Rohit studied, and handed the principal a small envelope. “This is for the boy’s education,” he said, before turning to leave.
The principal, surprised, called after him, “What’s your name?”
Ajay paused for a moment, then smiled softly. “Just a friend,” he replied, and walked away, knowing that the real battle had been fought within him—and that he had finally found his way back to the love he thought he’d lost forever.