“Cleaner’s son clears IIT.”
“Sweeper’s daughter cracks NEET.”
“Rickshaw puller’s son becomes IAS officer.”
Every now and then, headlines like these flash across newspapers and social media, celebrated with awe and pride. They are often seen as proof that meritocracy still lives—that anyone, from anywhere, can rise to the top.
But beneath the applause, there’s a question that gnaws at me:
What about the rest of us? Did we descend directly from the heavens?
Why are we so astonished when someone from a working-class background excels academically or professionally? Have we internalized the belief that brilliance is the birthright of only a few—those born into privilege, resources, and opportunity?
The truth is far simpler, and far older. We all come from the same human lineage. Go back far enough, and you’ll find us—your ancestors and mine—huddled in the same cave, tending to fire, foraging for food, and learning to survive. Class, caste, and status came later, layered upon us by history and hierarchy. They were not natural—they were constructed.
Some of us had the ladder placed beneath our feet. Others had to build it, rung by rung, while being told they didn’t belong on it.
So when a sweeper’s daughter cracks NEET or a rickshaw puller’s son clears the Civil Services, it’s not a miracle. It’s a return to the original human potential that existed before systems of exclusion were built.
And yet, these stories are treated as exceptions. As extraordinary.
But ask yourself—shouldn’t they be the norm?
These young men and women didn’t succeed because they were gifted. They succeeded in spite of the barriers that tried to hold them back. And for every one such headline, there are thousands who never make it—who never even get the chance to try.
If we truly believed in equality, stories of academic excellence from underprivileged backgrounds would not shock us. They would not need bold fonts or front-page treatment. They would be as common, as unremarkable, as the children of bureaucrats and businessmen making it to the top.
The day we stop being surprised by a rickshaw puller’s son becoming a doctor or a sweeper’s daughter becoming an engineer—that will be the day true equality begins. Until then, let’s not glorify a few who managed to beat the odds. Let’s focus on dismantling the odds themselves, so that talent, not background, becomes the only headline worth reading.
Because we didn’t arrive from different heavens.
We all came from the same cave.