My Pahchan Story

Overview

My Pahchan Story is a series that documents lives shaped by resilience. Not by choice, but by circumstances. Each post tells the story of someone we ’ ve met — a woman rebuilding her life, a child still innocent, a family navigating survival with almost nothing. We speak to them. We listen closely. Then we write their stories, their thoughts, their emotions, the way they were told to us, ie. raw, steady, unfiltered. This series doesn ’t look away from difficulty. It holds space for it. It pays attention. Because when someone shares their truth, the least we can do is carry it forward with care.

This series exists to hold space for voices that go unheard. It doesn ’t aim to rescue or romanticise. It simply listens, and documents.

Because every person has a story and this is their Pahchan.

How do we get in touch with them?

Subscribe to our newsletter to receive monthly upd We meet them where they are. At our campsites, community visits, and field programs, we spend time, ask questions, and listen. The stories come from real conversations with people who ’ ve lived them. Sometimes it’ s one afternoon. Sometimes it takes days. But every story starts with trust. ates from Hamari Pahchan. Stay informed about our programmes, events, and ways to get involved.

Where can you read these stories?

On our website: hamaripahchan.org On Instagram: @ngo_hamaripahchan On our LinkedIn page One story at a time. Updated regularly.

How can you help?

If a story moves you, don ’t stop there. You can: Reach out to us via email or DM Support our work through donations, volunteering, or simply sharing these stories Small actions go a long way, especially when they ’ re consistent.

At 70, Smt. Soni carries stories of strength in every smile.

Through my conversation with Smt. Soni, there is one quote in specific that comes to mind – "Work harder than you think you did yesterday." by Alex Elle. This resonates deeply with Soni's journey—her unwavering determination to keep moving forward, even when life has been anything but kind. Smt. Soni, originally from Mathura, Uttar Pradesh, moved to Delhi after her marriage. Unfortunately, after the death of her husband, she was forced to take up multiple jobs as house help. During our brief meeting, her reminiscing about her childhood spent in Mathura was bittersweet. She spoke of her carefree days, playful moments, and hopeful dreams - dreams that, unfortunately, remain largely unfulfilled. Her central aspiration, to build her own home, continues to elude her, perpetually held back by financial constraints. However, Smt. Soni's dreams go beyond just providing for herself and her family. She also has a deep desire to give back to the society and help other women like herself and children in need. This is a testament to her compassionate and caring nature – despite all that she has been through she still wants to help others.

She is one of the beneficiaries of Hamari Pahchan ’ s Street Vendor Project, which aimed to provide underprivileged people with an independent source of income. With our team ’ s unwavering support and financial assistance, she was able to improve the conditions of her tea stall a year ago. Hamari Pahchan also offered her a job as a helper at our Masjid camp, and ever since then, she ’ s been working with us. Here, she found a community that valued her contributions and treated her with kindness and respect. Her grandson, Vikas, also benefited from our organisation ’ s educational programs, attending sessions on digital literacy, life skills, and other workshops held weekly.

After coming to Hamari Pahchan, she said that she has realised that hard work is such a crucial aspect in life which is often overlooked by people. Her gratitude towards the Hamari Pahchan team was palpable. She spoke of the kindness and support shown by our team, and the valuable lessons she had learned. Our team has provided her not only with financial assistance but also with a sense of belonging and purpose. Later I asked her if there is anything that she has sacrificed in life that nobody recognised or acknowledged, to which she then replied,

Maine apne aap koh kurbaan kiya.(I sacrificed myself.)

In that moment, I could only sympathise with the weight of her words. Her sacrifices, often unnoticed and unacknowledged, are a testament to the silent struggles of many women who put the needs of others before their own.

And then there was her simple, yet profound, definition of her pahchan (identity) – “Mai abhi bhi bohot dhuki hun, lekin bus mehnat karke apne bachon ko khush rakhna chahti hun.”(I am still very sad in life, but I just want to work hard so I can keep my children and grandchildren happy.) It was a statement imbued with both profound sadness and unwavering determination. It spoke of a deep-seated pain that still lingered, but it also revealed the unwavering love and commitment that fueled her every action. Her identity, in that moment, was inextricably linked to the well-being of her family, a sacrifice she willingly embraced .

Her message to other women is to be independent and work with your entire tan and man (body and mind) in order to find the little joys in life.