The life of Munshi Premchand : A Journey of written word, values and service
There are some people we meet in life without ever meeting them in person. The legendary Hindi and Urdu writer Munshi Premchand has been one such eternal companion in my life.
My first acquaintance with him was not in a library or any literary gathering but in a school classroom. Like countless students across India, I read excerpts from his books, 'Godaan' and 'Gaban'. I still vividly remember 'Poos Ki Raat', the unforgettable story of Halku, the poor farmer shivering through a bitter winter night, whose suffering was described with such simplicity that it pierced the heart. At that age, I could barely grasp it's intensity. Only much later did I understand the depth of the social reality it portrayed.
As the years passed, I returned to Premchand's writings not as a student preparing for examinations, but as a reader trying to understand India.
With every novel and short story, I realised that Premchand was not merely telling stories. He was holding a mirror before society. His characters were ordinary people, farmers, labourers, women, children, clerks, widows and the forgotten poor. Their struggles were not dramatic; they were painfully real. Their dignity was not proclaimed; it quietly shone through hardship.Perhaps Premchand remains timeless because he was not writing stories. He was building a mirror large enough to hold an entire countryside which reflected small acts of grace, grit or even little dishonesties. He wrote about the poorest of the poor not as statistics or as objects of pity, but as people with dignity, cunning, humour and an unbearable amount of endurance. He did not just write about the downtrodden. He wrote as if he had sat with them, eaten with them and understood exactly how the system was built to keep them where they were and he never romanticised poverty. Neither did he exploit it for sympathy. He portrayed human suffering with compassion while constantly reminding society of its moral responsibility. He believed that literature must awaken the conscience.
Looking back today, I realise that although I chose administration as my profession rather than literature, the ideals that guided my journey were remarkably similar.
During more than three decades in public service, whether working with women's self-help groups, improving rural livelihoods, strengthening education, implementing Jal Jeevan Mission, promoting Khadi and village industries, or working for vulnerable women facing desertion, I was constantly reminded that policies are ultimately about people. Every government file represented a human story. Every statistic concealed someone's struggle.
Perhaps this is where Premchand's influence quietly entered my life. As administrators, we often speak of efficiency, governance and implementation. Premchand reminds us that empathy is equally important. A society progresses not merely through economic growth but through justice, compassion and dignity for every individual.
Whatever little I have been able to contribute has been possible because I was blessed with values instilled by my parents, nurtured by my siblings and family, strengthened by my teachers, gurus, friends and constantly reinforced by the Bhagavad Gita and Sampradayam. They taught me that public service is not about power but about responsibility; not about authority but about accountability. If my writings today resonate with readers in little ways, they are only a humble extension of those values.
This year, on the birth anniversary of the legendary Munshi Premchand, I feel deeply humbled to receive the Premchand Samman. It is a recognition of distinguished literary contributions while serving the government with dedication and integrity and for carrying forward the enduring legacy of Munshi Premchand who demonstrated that public service and literary excellence can go hand in hand.
The Premchand Samman is not just an award ceremony but a culmination of the two-day Prem Utsav, where Premchand's stories are presented by IDEA through plays in twenty-one Indian languages, including Bodo and Santhali.
Before the award presentation, we watched two plays 'Bade Ghar Ki Beti' and 'Phan Ka Ustad'. While the first beautifully highlighted the importance of relationships, behaviour, understanding and humility, 'Phan Ka Ustad' surprised me. Like many readers, I had always associated Premchand with serious social themes. I had not realised how delightful his sense of humour was. The audience laughed throughout the play, yet the message came across effortlessly. It reminded me that humour can sometimes make us think more deeply than a serious lecture. That versatility is what makes Premchand such an enduring writer.
Receiving an award in Premchand's name also brings a quiet sense of responsibility.
Can our writing reduce someone's prejudice? Can it inspire compassion? Can it encourage one young person to choose integrity over convenience? Can it make society pause and reflect? If it can do even one of these, writing has served its purpose.
In an age dominated by social media, short attention spans and instant opinions, reading Premchand has become even more important. His stories teach us patience. They teach us to observe before judging. They help us understand lives very different from our own. They remind us that behind every social issue is a human being with dreams, fears and dignity.
Every young person in India must read Premchand not because he is part of the syllabus, but because he helps us understand the soul of India.
One cannot truly appreciate rural India without Godaan. One cannot understand middle-class aspirations and moral dilemmas without Gaban. One cannot remain untouched after reading stories like Poos Ki Raat, Idgah, Namak Ka Daroga or Kafan. They are not merely literary classics; they are lessons in humanity.
As I continue my own journey as a former civil servant, researcher, social worker and writer I hope to keep learning from the ideals that Premchand lived by, simplicity, truth, compassion and unwavering commitment to the common man.
Awards may recognise our work for a moment but values guide our work for a lifetime. That, perhaps, is the greatest lesson Munshi Premchand leaves behind. And for that, generations of Indians will continue to remain indebted to him.
R. Vimala, IAS Retired,
Former Resident Commissioner, Maharashtra & Secretary, GoM,
Social Change Catalyst,
Founder Anirvedshakti Foundation,
PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay
