Suk Bahadur Damai had earned a big name as a popular tailor in his village. He was well known for making exceptionally perfect Daura and Suruwal. Not only local villagers but also people from nearby cities would visit him to sew the dress.

Suk Bahadur earned well enough to lead a very comfortable life in his village. During the marriage season, he would become too busy sewing clothes to earn a decent amount of money. Even though it seemed he was blessed with everything, he worried that he had no children of his own, even after fifteen years of marriage.

Suk Bahadur’s love for education was established when, five years ago, he set up the Juge Children’s Education Foundation in his village. Juge Bahadur Damai was Suk Bahadur’s father and he had always wanted to educate his son. However, he could not fulfil this dream because he had been too poor to send his son to school. He had worked hard, but it was not enough to meet ends. Due to severe poverty and intense mental stress, Juge breathed his last at the young age of forty-five.

Suk Bahadur could not attend school and thus remained illiterate for the rest of his life. But he wanted to ensure that no poor child in his village was deprived of education. So, he, through his foundation, helped many poor children study up to grade 10. He made no discrimination based on caste or religion.

Rafiq Mia had just returned from Dubai on leave. He had worked there for a local garment company as a tailor. He had been happy with the earnings he had made in Dubai.

Three years prior, when Rafiq had wanted to go to Dubai to work as a tailor, he had not been able to arrange three hundred thousand rupees to pay the agent. He had run from pillar to post but to no avail. Rafiq had almost dropped the idea of going to Dubai, but Suk Bahadur had come to his rescue in the meantime. He gave him the required sum. “Take this money and go to Dubai. Your children will get free education until you start earning well there,” Suk Bahadur had said.

Rafiq had now returned to pay the money back. He also gave him a big packet of Dates dry fruit he brought from Dubai. “Dates are quite popular fruits in the entire Gulf region. I am sure everyone in your family will like the taste of this fruit,” Rafiq said with a broad smile on his face.

Rafiq cleared his throat and asked, “Suk Ba, first of all, thank you so much for your financial help. Without it, I wouldn't be able to go to Dubai. All of this became possible only because of you. I want to pay you back with interest.”

Suk Bahadur smiled and replied, “You can decide how much you want to give me. But remember, you don’t have to give me that interest. It’s better to use that sum to buy books, stationery and clothes for poor students whose parents cannot afford them.”

Most people liked Suk Bahadur in the village. He had been the epitome of kindness and benevolence. However, some people in the village strongly abhorred him, because he was from a lower caste. These individuals objected to him being treated with respect and on an equal footing with members of the upper caste. However, Suk Bahadur never cared what people thought about him.

One early morning, when Suk Bahadur had been listening to Radio Nepal, Rafiq came to him and asked hurriedly, “Haven’t you gotten ready yet?” Then suddenly, Suk Bahadur remembered that they had to go to the annual award ceremony program.

It had been a tradition set by the earlier mayors in the district to give away the awards and felicitate those who had made special contributions to society. The event had already become very popular not only in the region but also throughout the entire country. The interesting part of the event was that no one except the core committee of the mayor knew who would receive the awards, prizes, and felicitations.

The mayor, who had also been the chief guest, had lit the oil-fed lamp to begin the ceremony. Hira Maya Dura, president of a local Aama Samuha, was the first woman to receive the award for her outstanding contribution to uplifting the quality of life of many women in her area.

Rafiq had been with Suk Bahadur and said confidently, “Suk Ba, I hope one day you will be on stage receiving an award, and we will smear vermillion all over your face so much that even you cannot recognise yourself in the mirror."

“It’s a pleasant thought, but I know it will never happen, or maybe it’s not even possible,” Suk Bahadur replied.

In the middle of the program, the mayor walked up to the podium and declared, “Now we are going to give away ‘The Mayor’s Choice Award-2023’ to a very special person whose selfless service has won our admiration.” Suk Bahadur immediately guessed Rudra Prasad Bhattarai’s name for the award. “I am sure he is the most deserving person to receive such a prestigious award,” he said.

Rafiq was startled by his opinion, “Rudra Prasad Bhattarai is the person who always disliked you. He always talked about caste and recently denied you entry into the Kalika temple. You still think he should win?” asked Rafiq angrily.

“Rafiq brother, whether he likes me or not, that is irrelevant. He has done quite a bit for our society, so I thought of him,” emphasised Suk Bahadur, unaware that Bhattarai, who sat in his back seat, was listening to their conversation. Bhattarai felt a pang of guilt and cursed his behaviour. He was simply dumbfounded, and his eyes were moistened.

The mayor held the microphone in his hand and said, “The award goes to Suk Bahadur.” The crowd was stunned and looked bewildered and clueless. Suk Bahadur, too found it hard to believe that he was called for the award. Rafiq sprang to his feet and asked him to go to the stage. Perplexed and utterly confused, Suk Bahadur went to the stage.

Then something unexpected happened. One man waded through the crowd, reached the stage, and smeared vermilion on Suk Bahadur’s face. He was none other than Rudra Prasad Bhattarai. He did not only smear vermilion on Suk Bahadur’s face; he embraced him with both hands. Seeing this, everyone in the crowd rejoiced and clapped for a long time.