The Soil Still Remembered His Hands
For nearly three years, the world had dimmed for Shyamjee Singh. Each day slipped into the next, shapes fading, faces blurring — until even the sunlight on the fields turned to a dull haze. But sometimes, even in the darkest moments, hope has its own quiet way of finding you.
When the Fields Fell Silent
In Bishunpur Basant, a small village in Hajipur, Vaishali, life begins and ends in the fields. For years, Shyamjee worked the land, farming and taking up labour work whenever needed. His brick-and-tin home stood as a symbol of his persistence — built on sweat and soil.
But when cataract slowly clouded his eyes, it began to take away more than just his vision; it stole his sense of purpose.
“I used to wake up at dawn to go to the fields,” Shyamjee says quietly. “But when I couldn’t see, I just sat there, listening to others working. The sound of their tools reminded me of everything I had lost.”
A Family’s Silent Struggle
His wife remembers those days vividly.
“He stopped talking much,” she says. “Even when we sat together in the evening, he would just stare at his spade like it was a memory, not a tool. It broke my heart.”
Still, his family’s kindness never wavered. His son became the family’s sole provider, carrying both the physical and emotional burden with quiet strength.
“We never said it aloud,” says his son, Rakesh. “But seeing him like that — sitting alone when he used to be the most active among us, it was painful. He was always cheerful, and we all missed his laughter.”
Hope on the Roadside
One morning, while resting outside his house, Shyamjee heard a voice echoing through a loudspeaker, an Akhand Jyoti advertisement announcing free cataract treatment and eye check-ups. For the first time in years, his heart stirred with a faint sense of possibility.
“I thought maybe this was my chance,” he recalls.
He attended the camp, and after his check-up, was referred to Akhand Jyoti’s Centre of Excellence for surgery.
He didn’t need any additional support from his family because Akhand Jyoti’s team took care of everything, from picking him up at his doorstep to bringing him safely back home after the operation.
“I couldn’t believe how they managed everything,” he smiles. “They treated me like family. I felt safe, even without my own family there.”
The Moment the Light Returned
The procedure took just three days. When the bandages were finally removed, light rushed back into his world like a forgotten friend.
“When I opened my eyes, I saw the nurse smiling, and seeing colours after so many days felt surreal,” he recalls, his eyes welling up.
He couldn’t wait to return home, to see his wife’s face clearly after years of blurred outlines. When he did, she laughed through tears.
“I looked into his eyes and said, ‘You can see me properly now,’” his wife recalls. “He just nodded, smiling like a child. That smile was worth everything.”
The Fields Welcome Him Back
Today, Shyamjee is back where he belongs, under the open sky, working with his spade, carrying baskets of soil on his head, and sowing with renewed pride. His hands are rough, his shoulders strong again, and his laughter rings across the fields.
“Now I can work like before,” he says proudly. “It feels like life has started again.”
His son watches from a distance, smiling quietly.
“It’s like the house got its light back when Baba did,” Rakesh says. “His smile gives us so much strength again.”
Seeing Beyond Sight
As he sits in the courtyard with his grandson on his shoulders, Shyamjee’s face glows with quiet contentment. The boy’s laughter fills the air, and the weight of the past years seems to melt away.
“Akhand Jyoti didn’t just bring my sight back,” he says softly. “They gave me my dignity, my family, everything I thought I had lost.”
For Shyamjee, light now holds a deeper meaning. It’s not just something the eyes see, it’s something the heart feels.
And as the sun sets over Bishunpur Basant, its warm glow touches the soil, the family, and the man who now sees life fully and beautifully, once again.
