Narayan grew up in a small town where life moved at the pace of the seasons. He was not a prodigy, not a rebel, and certainly not an outlier. Every Tuesday, without fail, he walked with his mother to the local temple, their footsteps a familiar rhythm on the dusty road.
He waited patiently at the end of the line, never pushing to the front, and after the final blessings, the temple pujari would always seek him out by a pillar at the end of the courtyard. He was satisfied with a few elaichi-danas that Pujari gave him with a smile. In school, he chose a seat in the middle of the class—not the front bench where the restless toppers sat, nor the back row where the defiant dreamers plotted.
He was the median, the constant, the quiet hum of the average.
His path was a straight, unspectacular line. He applied to a regional engineering college, got into mechanical engineering with a respectable rank, and graduated with grades that were good enough. The campus stories of wild adventures and brilliant innovations belonged to others. For Narayan, college was about mastering thermodynamics and sketching precise schematics.
His greatest victory was a normal one: passing the competitive exam for a government job. The day he received his appointment letter, his parents wept tears of pride for a life that was now secure, predictable, and respectable.
His career unfolded with the same quiet purpose. He wasn’t the star of any project, but he was the steady hand that ensured its success. His colleagues knew him as the man who always met his deadlines, who had a clear-eyed vision for sustainable development projects, and whose solutions were grounded in practicality, not grand gestures.
He met Sumitra at an arranged meeting, a simple, educated lady from a nearby town. Their courtship was brief and their marriage was a partnership built on shared values of quiet living, mutual respect, and a deep appreciation for the simple joys of a well-ordered home.
In their later years, they bought an apartment with his honest earnings, a modest space with a balcony where they grew basil and jasmine.
Narayan retired from a job well done, not with a fanfare of awards, but with the quiet satisfaction of having contributed meaningfully.
He spent his final decades reading, tending to his garden, and writing. His legacy was not in a revolutionary product or a viral speech, but in a few unheralded research papers on soil erosion control and a single storybook, privately published, a gentle ode to the people of his small town. He passed away quietly in his sleep, his children, who had grown up to live similar simple, unspectacular lives, by his side.
Narayan’s life was a testament to the profound strength of the ordinary. It was a life built not on the extraordinary pursuit of greatness, but on the disciplined, day-to-day practice of being good. He was a pillar of stability in a world that valorizes volatility and “idiots of “3 idiots” fame”, a man who found purpose not in being an outlier, but in being a constant. In a world of celebrated “idiots,” his was a life of quiet, sustainable, and un-noticable greatness.
Let us celebrate the greatness of living an un-spectacular un-idiot life !
This short story is a work of fiction based on life experiences.
In simple language, you have pictured a simple life which is how it should be for all of us. Simplicity may be out of fashion presently, but it is the best ornament humans have ever worn. And to leave the body peacefully in sleep, without being a burden, is what only the purest souls are blessed with. A veritable, relatable piece with a hot-water-bag effect.
I could easily identify with the small-town Narayan. I was very much like him in my childhood—never pushing hard for things (except in my quest for knowledge), but content with the little things I had.
The story reminds us that greatness does not always come from standing out; sometimes it comes from quietly doing one’s duty and finding joy in simple things.
In a world that constantly glorifies ambition and disruption, this story is a refreshing tribute to the dignity of an ordinary life well lived.
The story celebrates ” ordinary” very unlike the popular narrative of extra-ordinary. We often overlook the ordinary, it is countless ordinary who create the world that we all live in. Very relatable.
Nice fable, Sir.. Incidentally, I feel much related to Narayan…. He may not be the ideal person but people like him are much needed to maintain the balance in this fast paced life…
Beautiful and very simple story. I can relate myself with the Narayan. Simplicity is humble, sustainable and stays for long with one.
“Narayan’s story beautifully captures the quiet strength of ordinary people whose lives are built on integrity, consistency, and purpose. It reminds us that true success is not always found in extraordinary achievements but in the daily practice of being responsible, kind, and dependable. A touching tribute to the unsung heroes who form the backbone of our society.”
Very Nice simple story, celebrating simplicity. Life need not be extra-ordinary for enjoying it. Loud noises about achievements should realize that they in fact operate in a narrow bandwidth in a very wide spectrum. But it is nature which urges one, be it animal or human being, to express itself, to get identified.But then nature differs animal to animal. Narayan in the story depicts a nature which is a nearer to reality and celebrates the same.
Success is measured in a narrow way by society. We need to redefine that. This piece could well be a starting point, given that so many comments have related with the protagonist. Great ideas and innovations need a stable base. If every one was a maverick innovator or risk taker, then where would we go for our bread and butter?
A simple story that looks like our own reflection, touches the heart, hallmark of a good story.
Sir,
You drafted it so beautifully that it felt as if we were living every moment of the story. The narration was so vivid and engaging that it brought the entire plot to life.