Life has a way of teaching us lessons too late. Sometimes, we only realize the value of a person after they’re no longer around. That’s the story behind my upcoming song “I Was Wrong” — a heartfelt tribute to my grandmother, the one person who never gave up on me, even when I was too childish to see it. 💔 The Heart of the Song My grandmother wasn’t just family — she was a force of love and protection. While the world seemed to turn against me, she was the one who stood by my side. She fought for me, defended me, and believed in me when no one else did. Yet, in my youthful mischievousness, I didn’t always understand her value. I made fun of her sometimes — of her age, her habits, the little things that now feel like precious memories. I didn’t see the countless sacrifices she made. I didn’t realize how rare it is to have someone who truly loves you without conditions. “I Was Wrong” was born out of this realization — a mix of regret, nostalgia, and hope. A song that carries the words I ...
The First Day At Iron Factory
I arrived at the factory gate, drenched in sweat and rain. The air was thick with the smell of burning iron, and a huge dome loomed over the company grounds. I registered my name in the security guard’s logbook, feeling a mix of curiosity and tension. My friend's little cousin(futtor) was already waiting for me. Without much talk, he led me to his room—just 50 meters from the gate.
As we walked, I couldn't ignore the constant clanking of metal and the fierce heat radiating from the furnace. Everywhere I looked, there were piles of scrap iron being melted down and transformed into massive 6-foot rectangular poles. It was clear—the factory's job was to recycle waste iron, mold it into these enormous blocks, and likely ship them out for further use.
When we finally reached the room, I quickly changed my clothes and then asked in a thick accent that sounded like a mix of Bihari and something else, asked me, “Are you hungry?”
I was starving.
I said, “Yes, I’m sooo hungry!”
Without missing a beat, he turned to his older brother—and ordered him to show me around while he cooked. Before I knew it, I was being dragged through the factory, wandering between machines, molten iron, and the smell of oil hanging heavy in the air.
After about 30 minutes, breakfast was ready. I devoured the food like I hadn’t eaten in days, my stomach roaring with relief. Just as I thought I could rest, his older brother turned to me with a mysterious smile and said, “I’ll tell you what to do—don’t worry.” His tone was haunting, almost as if he was preparing me for something I wouldn’t like.
We walked toward a small, stuffy room. It looked like a power house—packed with generators buzzing loudly, providing electricity to the entire factory. There, a Bengali guy was sprawled out, asleep. That guy nudged him awake and joked about how much energy I seemed to have. The Bengali guy laughed and said, “Let’s see how long that energy lasts—hahaha!”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or be scared. But my anger—fueled by everything that had led me here—burned hotter than my fear. I switched off my phone, left it in the room, and mentally prepared myself for whatever came next.
The Pain Begins
Soon, a muscular guy about my age arrived. Without much introduction, he handed me a large oil gallon. Together, we had to carry it across the factory. It must have weighed 100 kg—heavier than anything I’d ever lifted. My shoulders screamed in pain, but when he shouted, “Come on, man, pick it up already!”—I had no choice. My legs wobbled, my back ached, but I gritted my teeth and kept moving.
The next job wasn’t any easier. We hauled sacks of salt—each one at least 50 kg—to a dry place to protect the water generators. My arms trembled, and my body felt like it was falling apart, but I refused to stop.
By midday, I was exhausted beyond words. Every muscle in my body throbbed. But there was no rest—not yet. The next task? Rolling heavy gas cylinders—oxygen and LPG—toward the welding area. I finally realized what those workers were doing: welding giant iron circles together, shaping them into something useful.
At that point, my body was barely functioning, and my stomach growled louder than the factory machines. When I asked for food, the futtor coldly said, “Lunch is at 2 PM. Until then, go help the welding guy.”
I dragged myself over, where the welder—an experienced man earning 30,000 rupees a month—shared stories about his life while working. Despite the pain, I found myself fascinated by how skilled he was.
When the clock finally struck 2 PM, I bolted for the room like a marathon runner. Lunch was simple—rice and lentils, heavily spiced with turmeric. The taste barely registered. The smell of iron and oil filled my nostrils, numbing everything else. But hunger doesn’t care about taste—I devoured the meal like it was the best thing in the world.
No Rest for the Weary
I begged for a little rest, and then futtor allowed me a short nap until 5 PM. I collapsed onto the bed and, in the blink of an eye, it was time to work again. This time, my job was to roll empty cylinders back to the door for replacement. Every movement felt like torture, but the day was finally coming to an end.
At 6 PM, my shift was officially over. The futtor allowed me to cook dinner—a small mercy after such a brutal day. As I rolled out dough for rotis, he taught me how to prepare lentils. By 8 PM, I signed out in the security register. The guard asked, “You’re not working the night shift?”
I shook my head. “I need sleep. I’m not taking that chance.”
Most workers toiled through the night—24/7, barely stopping to breathe. But I had reached my limit. I wasn’t about to push myself any further.
When the futtor ordered me to wake up at 6 AM the next day to cook breakfast, I didn’t even question it. My body ached, my mind was heavy, but I crashed onto the bed, knowing one thing for sure:
This was just the beginning.
Stay tuned—because the next morning was anything but easy.
Here's the question for you:
What’s the toughest job you’ve ever done, and how did it change you?
Comment below your answers or if you have any questions just lemme know that too.
Comments
Post a Comment