Rambo: The Unsung Hero of Lamka

HE walks the streets of Lamka with two large yellow water cans balanced in each hand. His pace steady, his back straight, his expression calm. There is something both heavy and noble in the way he moves. The weight he carries isn't just water: it’s life, labour, and silent resilience.

His body speaks before he does. Shirtless under the sun, his dark skin is toughened by the outdoors. His chest is broad, his arms thick and muscled, wrapped in faded cloth bands, perhaps to ease the strain, or maybe just to hold something personal close. A red stripe marks his forehead, and a simple necklace rests against his chest. His long pants, rolled up just below his knees, are stained and dirty — a sign of hard work, not neglect. Each muscle seems to remember years of repetition, of lifting, walking, and fetching. This isn’t gym strength. This is survival strength.

His face is sunburned and weathered. A thin layer of sweat covers his skin, but there’s no sign of frustration or fatigue in his eyes, just a quiet acceptance. His eyes are sharp but soft. He has seen hardship, and maybe loneliness but still carries warmth. If you meet his gaze with kindness, you’ll find a smile that rises without force, a smile that says he’s not bitter about his burdens.

He does this every day. He hauls water from public taps or distant sources to the homes and places where he works, places that need it, without complaint, without a fuss. His job is thankless but necessary. And somehow, he finds pride in doing it well.

He said his name is Ramboo, with a shy smile, maybe a little amused at how far that name has travelled from action films to this quiet corner of Manipur. But in his own way, he is every bit the hero, strong, disciplined, and quietly fighting his daily battle.

I could only give him a small amount of money, just enough for a cup of tea. If I could’ve done more in that moment, on that sunny evening of May 4, 2015, I truly wish I had.

I hope to meet him again one day.

He doesn’t ask for anything. But he deserves everything: respect, rest, and recognition. More than anything, he deserves a life that’s a little lighter than the weight he carries every day.

We can all learn an important real-life lesson from his struggles: that strength isn’t loud, and dignity doesn’t need praise.

May his strength be honoured, and may God bless him with health, peace, and a better life.

~ BRUCE K. THANGKHAL

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