By Jairaj Chhetry
The streets of Fancy Valley, Tura, speak not through monuments or plaques, but through their quiet cleanliness. The absence of litter, the sense of care stitched into every pathway, tells the story of a woman whose labour is as humble as it is extraordinary. She sweeps not only dust from the lanes but apathy from the human spirit. Her name is Smt. Sushila Chetry, and at an age when many naturally seek rest, she has chosen a broom as both her companion and her calling. She stands as a beacon of selfless community service, a reminder that dignity resides in dedication.
Smt. Chetry cannot endure the sight of filth in or around her neighbourhood. It unsettles her deeply, not simply because untidiness offends the eye, but because it betrays carelessness toward the community one inhabits. With quiet persistence, she urges all who cross her path to do their part—never to litter, always to keep their surroundings as clean as possible. For her, cleanliness is not a private virtue but a collective responsibility.
A Life of Choice, A Quarter-Century of Service: What renders her work remarkable is that it is not driven by financial necessity. It springs instead from an inner conviction—an ethic of care woven into her very being. A mother of two accomplished sons—one, a postgraduate in agriculture now working in a school, the other a restaurateur—she has no cause to worry about survival or security. She could, with justification, have stepped back into the comforts her family provides. Yet she has not.
For twenty-five years—a full quarter of a century—she has been the silent sentinel of her locality, broom in hand. Her labour is neither perfunctory nor mechanical; it is devotional, a form of prayer enacted daily for the well-being of her neighbours. Hers is the rarest of commitments: service as a choice rather than an obligation, a discipline born not of want but of love.
The Profound Promise of a Single Day: The defining episode of her life came when she was already eighty years old. One morning, as she bent to her task, a passing professor halted, struck by the quiet determination of her effort. Watching her, bent with age yet unwavering in spirit, he felt compelled to ask:
“Aunty, with all due respect, your sons have given you comfort and security. At this age, why do you continue with such demanding work?”
Her reply was not laced with complaint, nor was it a plea for recognition. Instead, it was a line destined to endure—a crystallisation of wisdom formed over a lifetime of honest labour. With dust clinging to her clothes and resolve shining in her eyes, she answered:“I do not know whether I will live to see tomorrow. And so, I do not want to leave my work of cleaning the road of my locality until my last breath.”
In that one statement lies a philosophy far deeper than textbooks or lectures can convey. It is not the language of resignation but of fierce immediacy, an unflinching refusal to postpone responsibility.
An Urgent Call to the Youth: “I do not know whether I will live to see tomorrow.”
Allow those words to settle. They are not uttered in fear but in courage. They reject the culture of delay, the casual promise of “later,” which so often undermines meaningful action.
Her message resounds as a challenge to the young: do not wait for perfect conditions, for governments to intervene, or for others to take the lead. Begin now. The time to act is not tomorrow but today.
If every young person, with energy and passion untarnished by hesitation, were to embrace her creed, the transformation would be profound. Cleanliness, she reminds us, is not cosmetic but communal. It is not about what lies outside one’s door alone but about the respect we owe to shared spaces. For years she has urged all who meet her to treat the streets as their own—to refuse littering, to embody care.
A Legacy Beyond Applause: What Sushila Chetry of Fancy Valley, Tura, offers us is more than an example to be admired; it is a model to be imitated. Appreciation, though deserved, is not enough. Her life invites us to recalibrate our own—to live as if today were our last chance to make a difference.
In a world too often paralysed by hesitation, her voice breaks through like a bell: act now, serve now, clean now, live now. Hers is the highest form of leadership—the leadership of action without obligation.
Her work, modest in gesture yet monumental in meaning, is a quiet whisper to us all: make your corner of the world beautiful today. And in that whisper lies a call to build a cleaner, kinder, more compassionate tomorrow—one dedicated day at a time.
(The writer is retired Headmaster, Gorkha School, Tura and a state awardee in 2022)
