The sun had just risen over the small village, casting a golden glow over the dirt roads and the simple houses. Mukul Desai, now a ten-year-old boy, carried a small satchel on his back, filled with the few belongings he had managed to gather. His heart beat with a mixture of excitement and determination — the world had given him a second chance, and he intended to make the most of it.
After a quick breakfast of bread and milk, Mukul set out toward the village school. He had remembered clearly, from his past life, the faces of those who had helped him when he had nothing — selfless souls who had given him hope without asking for anything in return. Today, he would begin reconnecting with them, starting with the principal of the school.
The school building was modest, but well-kept. Mukul paused outside, taking a deep breath to steady himself. His plan was simple: he would ask for admission, and he would prove that he was serious. Not just about studying, but about living a life of dignity this time.
Inside, the principal, an elderly man with kind eyes and a calm presence, was reviewing some papers at his desk. Mukul stepped forward, his small voice firm despite his age.
"Sir," he began, bowing slightly, "I want to join your school."
The principal looked up, raising an eyebrow. "And why should I admit you, young man?"
Mukul swallowed, but did not waver. "I want to study during the day, and I will work after school to pay my own fees. I don't want charity. I want to earn my place here."
The principal studied him for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. "You have determination in your eyes," he said slowly. "Most children your age wouldn't even think of such a thing. Why are you so serious about studying?"
Mukul's eyes shone, though he kept his expression calm. "In my last life, I became successful. I had wealth, power, and even disciples. But people laughed behind my back because I didn't have a proper degree. I want to change that this time. I want to survive with knowledge and not just luck. I want to earn respect through learning."
The principal was silent for a moment, clearly impressed. He had seen many children come and go, most of them careless and lazy. But there was something about Mukul — something that reminded him of a boy he had once helped long ago, without expecting anything in return.
"Very well," the principal finally said, a small smile forming. "If you are willing to work for it, you can join. Come tomorrow for the first class. And remember, determination is more important than talent. Never forget that."
Mukul's lips curved into a small smile. "Thank you, sir. I promise I won't let you down."
As he walked out of the office, his mind was already planning. Education was the first step — but knowledge alone wouldn't be enough. He would need money, resources, and connections, just like before. Only this time, he would do it smarter. He began to sketch ideas for small businesses he could start, using the knowledge he retained from his previous life: simple things like trading, medicines, and small tech devices. The ideas were modest, but they would grow. Slowly. Surely.
After school the next day, Mukul took a small job in the village — helping shopkeepers, delivering goods, and even tutoring younger children. Every rupee he earned went into his secret savings, hidden carefully in a small wooden box under his bed. His classmates noticed the strange boy who worked while they played, but Mukul paid no mind. He had learned long ago that true success required sacrifice.
Evenings were dedicated to study and self-cultivation. He practised basic techniques from martial arts, meditation, and energy control — things that would strengthen him in body and mind. While other children played games, he quietly honed himself, building the foundation for the man he was meant to become.
And he never forgot those who had helped him. Each day, Mukul asked questions in his classes, seeking not just knowledge, but understanding of the world around him. He wanted to know who among the villagers might be his old allies, who could be trusted, and who would betray him if given the chance.
Sometimes, he would walk the streets, studying people, remembering faces from his previous life, searching for even the smallest clue. Each small discovery filled him with hope and determination. If he could find even one of his old friends, he could begin to rebuild the network he had lost — a network that would one day protect his family, his disciples, and the empire he was destined to create.
One night, after returning from work and studying by candlelight, Mukul whispered to himself, "I'll find them all. My family… my friends… and my disciples. I'll rebuild everything I lost. And this time, no one will betray me."
The wind outside rustled through the trees, as if acknowledging his promise. Mukul closed his eyes, feeling the familiar strength returning to his soul. He may have been a boy again, small and weak, but inside, the mind of a forty-year-old man burned bright.
This life would be different. This life would be real.
And Mukul Desai would make sure of it.