<p>Mansi was recommended to us by a friend when our cook left without notice. After a brief meeting, we welcomed her into our home. That was many years ago. From the very first day, Mansi would arrive at 6 am sharp. No reminders, no calls to check where she was — just quiet, unwavering punctuality. Come rain or shine, she turned up. She went about her work silently, with care and attention. No complaints, no delays. She would take instructions patiently, finish every task neatly, and slip away without fuss. At first, she kept to herself. But over the years she started opening up in short, whispered conversations. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Mansi came from a small village on the border of West Bengal. A family of four adults and many children shared a tiny home and a small patch of dry land that barely supported them. When life grew hard, she took a bold decision to leave her village in search of work. She travelled hundreds of kilometres to Bangalore, a city that was entirely unfamiliar to her. She didn’t speak its language, didn’t know the culture, and had never heard of its cuisine. All she carried with her was a fierce determination to survive and a few hundred rupees. </p>.Reforms begin on a negative note.<p class="bodytext">She took up odd jobs, doing whatever sustained her, saving up and sending it home. Eventually, she found us. We became her first regular job—an engagement that gave her not just an income, but dignity and security too. Quietly, through sheer toil and patience, she helped transform her family’s destiny. Today, Mansi is not the same timid woman who walked into our home years ago. She’s more confident. Her children are all educated -- one even works as a stewardess with a national airline. </p>.<p class="bodytext">But then, what happens to success stories like Mansi’s? I wonder. Why do we never hear of them? Podcasts and self-help books abound with stories of city-bred strugglers reaching top corporate positions – but stories of quiet courage in humble callings like Mansi’s almost never make it to the headlines. When a Hindi-speaking delivery person hands us groceries at our doorstep, do we ever pause to think about the strength it took to leave his village, his family, and his comfort zone? To move to a bustling, unfamiliar city like Bengaluru? Mansi’s journey has always been a quiet reminder to me that success isn’t just about where we end up. It’s about how far we have come and how we shaped our destinies. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A destination for second chances, Bengaluru hums with sounds of Hindi, Odia, Bengali, Tamizh and so many more – all keeping the city’s pulse vibrant and throbbing. The city has lovingly embraced the struggles and hopes of countless migrants like Mansi and has given wings to dreams born in distant villages and small towns. For countless families living far away, unaware of the daily battles of their loved ones in this unfamiliar city, Bangalore holds a promise—a gentle light guiding them toward a better tomorrow. So, here’s to Mansi, and to every toiling soul like her in this city. May their stories be told, their journeys celebrated, and their strengths honoured. </p>
<p>Mansi was recommended to us by a friend when our cook left without notice. After a brief meeting, we welcomed her into our home. That was many years ago. From the very first day, Mansi would arrive at 6 am sharp. No reminders, no calls to check where she was — just quiet, unwavering punctuality. Come rain or shine, she turned up. She went about her work silently, with care and attention. No complaints, no delays. She would take instructions patiently, finish every task neatly, and slip away without fuss. At first, she kept to herself. But over the years she started opening up in short, whispered conversations. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Mansi came from a small village on the border of West Bengal. A family of four adults and many children shared a tiny home and a small patch of dry land that barely supported them. When life grew hard, she took a bold decision to leave her village in search of work. She travelled hundreds of kilometres to Bangalore, a city that was entirely unfamiliar to her. She didn’t speak its language, didn’t know the culture, and had never heard of its cuisine. All she carried with her was a fierce determination to survive and a few hundred rupees. </p>.Reforms begin on a negative note.<p class="bodytext">She took up odd jobs, doing whatever sustained her, saving up and sending it home. Eventually, she found us. We became her first regular job—an engagement that gave her not just an income, but dignity and security too. Quietly, through sheer toil and patience, she helped transform her family’s destiny. Today, Mansi is not the same timid woman who walked into our home years ago. She’s more confident. Her children are all educated -- one even works as a stewardess with a national airline. </p>.<p class="bodytext">But then, what happens to success stories like Mansi’s? I wonder. Why do we never hear of them? Podcasts and self-help books abound with stories of city-bred strugglers reaching top corporate positions – but stories of quiet courage in humble callings like Mansi’s almost never make it to the headlines. When a Hindi-speaking delivery person hands us groceries at our doorstep, do we ever pause to think about the strength it took to leave his village, his family, and his comfort zone? To move to a bustling, unfamiliar city like Bengaluru? Mansi’s journey has always been a quiet reminder to me that success isn’t just about where we end up. It’s about how far we have come and how we shaped our destinies. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A destination for second chances, Bengaluru hums with sounds of Hindi, Odia, Bengali, Tamizh and so many more – all keeping the city’s pulse vibrant and throbbing. The city has lovingly embraced the struggles and hopes of countless migrants like Mansi and has given wings to dreams born in distant villages and small towns. For countless families living far away, unaware of the daily battles of their loved ones in this unfamiliar city, Bangalore holds a promise—a gentle light guiding them toward a better tomorrow. So, here’s to Mansi, and to every toiling soul like her in this city. May their stories be told, their journeys celebrated, and their strengths honoured. </p>
