A Journey That Almost Ended My Dream

As a child, I was always fascinated by India—especially its Bollywood movies and cricket team.

I grew up watching Bollywood movies, especially those starring Akshay Kumar. His action scenes and fearless stunts always amazed me. I often imagined myself walking through the crowded streets of Mumbai, meeting my favorite actor, and asking him all the childish questions that filled my mind. At that age, those dreams felt impossible. They lived only in my imagination.

School, however, was a different story.

One year, I scored only 214 marks—just 14 marks above the passing score of 200. I had barely made it to the ninth grade. While returning from school to home I was holding my result sheet and felt ashamed, as if I had disappointed everyone around me. On my way home, I met one of my classmates. He had earned second position in his batch. Excited, he asked about my result. Embarrassed, I looked down and quietly told him my marks. He laughed, mocked me, and made me feel even smaller.

That bullying moment stayed with me forever.

During my childhood and teenage years, I had always been stubborn, and never forgot the people who mistreated and underestimated me. Similarly, my friend often made fun of my poor English by asking me to translate Pashto sentences that he knew I could not translate. Instead of giving up, I made a promise to myself: one day I would learn English and prove that I was capable of much more than people believed.

Three years later, my life changed.

I received wonderful news. The news I had eagerly been waiting for since my school days. I had been awarded a scholarship to study a Bachelor of Business Administration (BBA) at one of India’s well-known universities.

Soon afterward, I received a phone call from the Indian Embassy in Kabul asking me to bring my passport and documents to apply for my student visa. I could hardly believe it. I shouted with joy, jumped around the house, and immediately shared the news with my mother. My childhood dream was finally becoming reality.

For a moment, I thought about calling the friend who had once mocked me. But I decided to wait until I had actually arrived in India.

A week later, I boarded my flight.

When I landed at New Delhi Airport, I headed to the bus station to travel to Chandigarh, where my university was located. It was around 10 o’clock in the morning. I carried nearly Rs 1 lakh in cash to pay my tuition and hostel fees. For safety, I placed the money, along with my important documents, inside my carry bag.

As the bus moved through the green countryside, I listened to my favorite Bollywood songs while looking out the window. The beautiful scenery reminded me of the India I had imagined as a child while watching movies back home in Afghanistan. Everything felt like a dream.

Then, everything changed.

About an hour before reaching Chandigarh, the bus stopped in Ambala. The conductor suddenly announced that passengers traveling to Chandigarh had to get off because the bus was actually continuing to Ludhiana.

Along with five other passengers, I stepped off the bus.

Within seconds, the bus drove away.

My carry bag was still inside.

My money.

My passport.

My important documents.

Everything was gone.

I screamed, waved my hands, and ran after the bus as fast as I could, but it disappeared into the distance. I stood there in complete shock. It felt as though my entire future had vanished before my eyes.

For a few moments, I lost hope.

I asked the other passengers if they knew where the bus had gone or how to contact the driver. No one knew anything. I felt helpless. I was thousands of miles from home, alone in a foreign country, with no money, no documents, and no idea what to do next.

Then, something unexpected happened.

One passenger who had been asleep, woke up and remembered the name of the bus company: Star Travelers.

That small piece of information gave me hope.

Thankfully, I still had internet access on my phone. I searched for the company’s office and called them immediately. At first, they could not help because they did not have the driver’s phone number. Still, they promised they would try to locate the bus.

Hours later, after several phone calls, they finally discovered that the bus had reached Ludhiana. They continued searching and eventually found the driver’s contact number.

By then, I had reached my university in Chandigarh.

Just when I thought things could not become worse, another problem appeared.

The university administration informed me that I could not be admitted to the BBA program and instead offered me admission to another course that I had no interest in studying.

I tried to explain.

My father spoke with the administration over the phone.

Nothing worked.

To make matters even harder, they initially refused to give me a hostel room, even though I was completely new to the city and had nowhere to stay. After much discussion, they finally allowed me to stay in the hostel for the night, but my admission remained uncertain.

Oddly enough, the admission problem became so stressful that I almost forgot about my lost bag.

That night, I barely slept.

Early the next morning, I returned to the administration office determined not to give up. This time, I remained calm, explained my situation clearly, and continued speaking with the staff. Somehow, my communication made a difference. Eventually, they approved my admission to the BBA program.

Just as I walked out of the office with relief, my phone rang.

It was the bus driver.

He told me that he had handed my carry bag to a passenger traveling back to Chandigarh from Ludhiana.

A few hours later, I finally received it.

Nothing was missing.

My money was safe.

My documents were safe.

And most importantly, my dream was safe.

As I held my bag in my hands, I took a deep breath. A smile slowly appeared on my face. After one of the most frightening journeys of my life, hope had found its way back to me.

As I walked back to my hostel carrying the same bag I had feared losing forever, I thought about the boy who had laughed at my poor grades and broken English. He could never have imagined that one day those same dreams would carry me across borders. Neither could I. Looking back, I realize that life rarely rewards the people who never fall. It rewards those who keep walking, even when every step feels uncertain.