India, Aug. 7 -- They say he worked in silence. But what they don't tell you is - he cried in silence too.
03 a.m. The city slept. The tap dripped like a ticking clock. And there he was again - huddled over a desk scarred with years of failure, rejection letters piled like unpaid rent.
No lights. No likes. No one watching.
Just a man betting on himself when no one else would. The kind of bet you place when you're out of options - or when you've finally had enough of living small.
It reminds me of a girl I used to know. Called herself a ghost - because no one saw her. Always walking through doors no one opened. Always working, always dreaming, always tired. Fast forward seven years - now she signs checks for people who once told her to...
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