Unsung Legends: Arun Krishnamurthy — The Boy Who Cleaned a Lake

“ Sunday Stories: The Success Secrets of Extraordinary”

Arun Krishnamurthy was just 17 when he realised something heartbreaking—
the lake he grew up visiting, the one where he once watched birds glide and dragonflies dance, had become a garbage ground.

Most people looked at the mess and said,
“The government should clean this.”
Others just clicked pictures and posted them online.

But Arun did something different.

He stood at the edge of the polluted water, took a deep breath, picked up a sack, and took the first step.

That day, Arun didn’t clean the whole lake.
He didn’t inspire thousands.
He didn’t have funds, volunteers, or a plan.
He had just one thing: the courage to begin.

He returned the next day… and the next.
Slowly, people noticed. A few joined him. Some brought gloves, others came with their families.

What started as one teenager with a sack grew into a movement.

Arun then founded EFI — Environmental Foundation of India, an organisation committed to restoring water bodies.

From small ponds to massive lakes, his team began cleaning, desilting, fencing, creating awareness, and bringing back lost ecosystems.

It wasn’t glamorous work. It meant mud, sweat, sunburns, trash, and endless hours.
But Arun believed something powerful:
“If we don’t fix our environment, who will?”

Today, he leads thousands of volunteers and has helped restore over 150 lakes across India.
Thanks to him, once-dead lakes now bloom with birds, fish, and fresh water again.

You don’t need to wait for permission, perfect conditions, or popularity.
You just need to take the first courageous step—
whether it's cleaning a corner of your classroom, planting a sapling, helping a friend, or starting a change in your own neighbourhood.

Big movements always begin with one person who decides:
“I’ll do something about it.”
You could be that person.

Unsung Legends: Karimul Haque — Padma Shri Awardee: The Real-Life Game Changer

  “ Sunday Stories: The Success Secrets of Extraordinary”

Karimul Haque lived in a small village near the tea gardens of Jalpaiguri, West Bengal. The roads were rough, the hospitals were far, and ambulances rarely reached his area in time.

One night in 1995, his world changed forever.

His mother fell critically ill. Karimul ran for help—he begged for an ambulance, but none came. The village’s narrow, broken roads made it impossible for the vehicle to reach them.
His mother died before she received care.

That loss didn’t turn him bitter.

It turned him brave.

Karimul made a promise to himself, a promise he repeats even today:

“No one should die because help couldn’t reach them.”

He didn’t have money.
He didn’t have influence.
He had a second-hand motorcycle and an unshakeable heart.

So he turned his bike into a makeshift ambulance, attaching belts and improvised stretchers, teaching himself how to carry patients safely. At first, people laughed. Some were unsure if it was safe.

But when he saved his first life—carrying a coworker with a snakebite 45 minutes to the hospital—everything changed.

Word spread.

For over 20 years, Karimul has carried 5,500+ patients to hospitals — through rain, floods, heat, and pitch-dark nights.
He used to ride 30–40 km per trip, sometimes more, often without sleep.
He calls every patient “family.”

His service earned him recognition, including the honor of being named a Padma Shri awardee—one of India’s highest civilian awards in 2017.

He is widely known as "Bike-Ambulance Dada" (Ambulance Elder Brother) in the Dooars belt of West Bengal.

But when asked what he’s proudest of, he says:

“Seeing people live.”

And still, he wakes up at dawn, drinks his tea, checks his bike, and waits for the next call.

Because heroes don’t retire.
They just keep riding.

Unsung Legends: Fauja Singh — Turbaned Tornado: The Real-Life Game Changer

 “ Sunday Stories: The Success Secrets of Extraordinary”

When most athletes retire at 40, 
Fauja Singh started running at 81. 

Yes — 81.

Doctors warned his body was too fragile.

Relatives insisted he should “take rest.”

The world expected him to slow down.

But Fauja listened to someone else — himself.

Every morning, he whispered:

“As long as my legs listen to me, I will run.”

He trained on dusty village roads,
sometimes outpacing men half his age.
Some laughed.

Some called him crazy.
Some said, “Why start now?”

Until the day he proved everyone wrong.

He ran his first marathon.
Then another.
And five more after that.

At 100 years old, he crossed a marathon finish line, becoming the oldest person in the world to do so and earned the nickname "Turbaned Tornado".

No shortcuts. No excuses.

Just fire, grit, and unstoppable belief.

He didn’t run for medals.
He ran to send a message loud enough for the whole world to hear: 

“It’s never too late to start.
 But it’s always too early to give up.”

Unsung Legends: Jadav Payeng – The Molai Forest Man: The Real-Life Game Changer

 “ Sunday Stories: The Success Secrets of Extraordinary”

 At 16, Jadav Payeng from Assam saw dozens of snakes dying on the sandbar near his village because the land had become barren. 

People glanced at the scene, shrugged, and moved on.

“Nature changes,” they said. “What can we do?”

Jadav didn’t.

He didn’t have money. He didn’t have tools.
But he had a mindset: “If nobody does it, I will.”

So before school every morning, he carried a handful of bamboo seeds, sometimes in an old tin can, sometimes in a cloth bag. He walked alone to the barren riverbank and planted them, one after another, under the rising sun.

One day became a week.
A week became a month.
A month silently turned into a year.

People laughed.
“You’re just one boy. What difference can you make?”

But here’s the thing about determination —
it doesn’t need applause; it just needs consistency.

Jadav kept planting.

Kept watering.

By the time he turned 30, something unbelievable happened —
a 1,300–acre forest stood where the desert once was.

Animals returned. Birds nested. Even tigers roamed again.

Today, he is known as The Forest Man of India, and the world studies his work and scientists study the forest he built all by himself — without machines, without money.

Jadav Payeng was honored by the Government of India with the country's fourth-highest civilian award, the 'Padma Shri,' in 2015.

Start with what you have.

Start where you are.
Start small — but start.

"Because extraordinary things grow from ordinary efforts repeated every single day."

The Road She Didn’t Take :Letting go is the real victory.

 “ Sunday Stories: The Success Secrets of Extraordinary”

The night wind whipped through the cliff side road as Aarohi revved her bike higher. The city lights glimmered far below like a restless sea, but inside her, a storm raged far louder. Her phone buzzed again — another text from Meera, her ex-best friend. Aarohi didn’t even glance at it.

“Now she remembers me?” Aarohi muttered under her breath.

A month ago, their friendship had shattered — all because of a cruel rumour Meera had supposedly spread. Aarohi’s trust had burned to ashes, and so had her peace.

She had blocked, ignored, and erased Meera from everywhere... or so she thought.

Tonight was supposed to be her escape — her long midnight ride to nowhere. But fate had other plans.

Halfway down the winding hill, Aarohi’s headlight caught something — a car, half-crashed into the guardrail. Smoke hissed from the hood. Her heart pounded as she pulled over.

She ran closer — and froze.

Meera.

Her face was pale, eyes half-open, trapped behind the steering wheel.

“Aarohi…?” Meera whispered, disbelief flickering through the pain.

For a heartbeat, Aarohi stood still. Every wound, every betrayal came rushing back — but so did every memory of laughter, secrets, and dreams.

Then instinct took over. She yanked open the door, ignoring the smoke, pulled Meera free, and dragged her to safety.

Minutes later, as sirens wailed in the distance, Meera looked up, trembling.

“I didn’t send that rumor,” she gasped. “Someone used my phone… I tried to explain…”

Aarohi’s throat tightened. She remembered all the unread messages, the calls she’d ignored, the truth she’d refused to see.

She didn’t speak. She just held Meera’s hand until help arrived.

Later that night, when Aarohi stood again by the edge of the cliff, she scrolled through her phone and finally opened Meera’s last message.

“Aarohi, please listen. I know I lost your trust. But I’d never hurt you. I’m sorry for not fighting harder to clear it up. Can we meet once?”

Tears blurred her screen. She typed back slowly:

“You don’t need to apologise. I’m sorry too. Let’s start over — if you’re ready.”

As she hit send, the wind softened. It felt as if the night itself had exhaled.

Forgiveness hadn’t erased the past — but it had set her free from it.

Choosing to forgive someone who has wronged you, thereby freeing yourself from the burden of resentment. Letting go is a strength, not a weakness. 

✨ Lesson for Teens ✨

Forgiveness doesn’t make you weak; it makes you brave enough to move beyond pain.

🌟 Campaign Note 🌟  

What weighs you down more — the mistake, or the grudge you refuse to let go?