A Smile That Saved a Billionaire

Life isn’t fair. Some people are born with everything, while others fight every single day just to survive.

I belong to the second category.

But am I sad about it?

Not at all.

I’ve seen so much sorrow that sadness itself got tired of me. So, I cheated sadness—I fell in love with smiling. And no matter what, I will never betray that love. That’s why I smile every single day.

This morning at 8 a.m., I was rushing to the shop. No, it’s not my shop. I only work there. If I don’t hurry, my grumpy boss will start throwing fireballs at me first thing in the morning.

On the way, I spotted Rani, a stray dog. She had just given birth to five tiny puppies—so unbelievably cute. Every day, I bring her something to eat. She needs it more than ever now.

Yes, I’m poor. I earn only ₹10,000 a month. But that’s still enough for me to feed someone hungry. Because if anyone knows hunger best—it’s me. I’ve eaten food pulled out of public dustbins. But now at least I earn. That means I don’t have to starve anymore.

Finally, I reached the shop.

Rimi: “Good morning, sir. I’m on time.”

Shop Owner: “You’re on time, but if anything breaks today because of you, it’s coming straight out of your salary.”

Rimi: “Don’t worry, sir. Nothing will happen.”

Within ten minutes, something fell off the shelf. Classic me. Bad luck follows me around like a shadow. And thanks to that mistake, I was given “extra duty”—sweeping outside the shop.

But sadness is not allowed in my life anymore. I know how expensive mental health medicines are. I can barely afford rent and food, forget therapy. So, I’ve sworn to stay happy, no matter what.

When the sweeping was done, I turned back proudly.

Rimi: “Now you won’t cut my salary, right, sir?”

Shop Owner: “You escaped this time. But next time—no mistakes.”

Rimi (grinning): “There won’t be any. Don’t worry.”

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By 1:30 p.m., it was lunch break. And I went to my favorite spot—

the graveyard.

Yes, you heard right. I eat my lunch there.

Why? Because I feel like even the people buried here were abandoned by their loved ones, just like me. At least by eating here, I give them some company.

My life story? Well, it’s a long one.

My biological mother was a bar dancer. She didn’t even know who my father was. She raised me until I was five, then left me for another man. That’s how I ended up in an orphanage.

Later, a couple adopted me. For a while, I finally had a home and family. But when I turned fifteen, the couple had their own biological child. And then… they gave me up. Said they couldn’t afford two children.

So, once again, I was abandoned.

Child Welfare took me in. And the day I turned eighteen, I started doing odd jobs. Education was minimal, so big jobs were impossible. Now at twenty-four, I’ve learned to live with poverty, roads, and rejections.

But sadness? Nope. I kicked that out years ago.

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That afternoon, when I reached the graveyard, I saw something. Someone was being buried right where I usually sat. So I walked a little further in and sat there instead.

Rimi (to the graves): “Hello, everyone. You don’t know me, because I usually sit on the other side. But nice to meet you today. May I eat here?”

I was about to open my lunchbox when I saw him.

A man. Sitting not too far away.

Rimi (screaming): “Aaaaa! Are you a ghost?!”

Then I squinted. White clothes are for ghosts. But this one wore dirty, ragged clothes.

“Oh wait—you’re a homeless ghost.”

The stranger looked at me and replied calmly.

Stranger: “I could say the same. Maybe you’re the ghost here.”

Rimi: “No way! Look—I’m eating food. Which ghost eats food?”

He walked over and sat right beside me. Without asking, he took food from my lunchbox and began eating.

Rimi: “Hungry, huh? Fine, eat. Go ahead.”

Stranger (chewing): “See? I’m eating too. So I’m not a ghost. Just starving. And this is tasty.”

Rimi (beaming): “Of course. I cooked it. Do you know, I woke up at 5 a.m., went into the forest, and picked fresh mushrooms just for this?”

She extended her hand.

Rimi: “Hello, Homeless. My name is Rimi. What’s yours?”

Stranger: “Aditya.”

Rimi: “Aditya, huh? You look decent enough. Why don’t you work? Look at me—I used to have nothing. Not even money to buy food. But now I earn ₹10,000. Life gets better when you try.”

Aditya studied her silently.

Aditya: “Who do you live with?”

Rimi (smiling sadly): “No one. Everyone left me.”

She tilted her head at him.

Rimi: “What about you? Why are you sitting here? Looking for peace… or for someone you lost?”

Aditya ignored the question.

Aditya: “Can you bring these mushrooms again tomorrow? They taste amazing.”

Rimi (laughing): “Maybe. But precious things aren’t easy to find. If I do, I’ll bring them for you.”

Just then, some men began putting advertisement boards inside the graveyard.

Rimi (frowning): “Seriously? Even the dead can’t rest in peace. And look—it’s Rao Group. Useless people. Such a huge company, but no basic sense.”

Aditya only smiled faintly.

Rimi (packing up): “Okay, Aditya. I should get back to work. And listen… precious things need effort. Life is precious too. Living doesn’t just mean breathing—it means smiling and being happy. One day, you’ll find a way back to life. Right now, you’re not just homeless. You’re sad. That’s worse.”

She pulled out ₹1000 from her bag, placed it in his hand.

Rimi: “Buy new clothes. And take a bath. You smell like alcohol.”

And with that, she walked away.

Aditya sat frozen, staring at the notes in his hand. Was that girl… an angel? Slowly, he smiled and tucked the money into his pocket.

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Rao Mansion

Manjula Rao (to the guards): “Where is he? He didn’t come home last night! I told you to keep track of him. Do I need to fire you all and find people who can actually do their jobs?”

Security Guard: “Madam, we followed sir till yesterday evening. But after that, he disappeared. We couldn’t trace him.”

In the study, Vijay Rao, head of the Rao empire, sighed heavily.

Vijay: “This boy… He’s destroying himself. Two years have passed, yet nothing has changed. We’ve shown him to every psychiatrist, both national and international, but he doesn’t take his medicines or attend therapy.”

The front door opened. A young man stepped in.

Manjula (rushing to him): “Aditya! Where were you? Look at your state. Your father and I couldn’t sleep all night. Why are you punishing us like this? Nancy is gone. She won’t come back. Accept it.”

Vijay (voice breaking): “You’re our only son, Aditya. How long will you keep blaming yourself for Nancy’s death? It wasn’t your fault. It was destiny.”

Aditya’s eyes filled with tears.

Aditya: “No, it was my fault. Nancy died because of me. I couldn’t save her.”

Manjula: “It wasn’t deliberate! You did everything you could. You wanted the best for her.”

Aditya (screaming): “And yet, she died! Just two days before our wedding—she died because of me!”

Vijay: “It was an accident. Nothing more.”

Aditya (voice breaking): “No, dad. I lost everything that day.”

He stormed off to his room, locking the door.

Inside, the walls were covered with photos of Nancy. Their smiles, their memories. Aditya collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

His parents knocked desperately, begging him to open up.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled out a box, took a syringe, and injected himself. Moments later, he collapsed on the floor.

When the servants and his parents finally broke down the door, they found him unconscious.

An overdose.

A medical emergency.

They rushed him to the hospital.

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