"Dream, Dream, Dream! Conduct these dreams into thoughts, and then transform them into action."
- Dr. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam
31 Jul 2025
In a small village called Lamhi near Banaras, on 31 July 1880, a boy named Dhanpat Rai Srivastava was born. He would go on to become Munshi Premchand, one of the most respected, revolutionary, and soul-stirring writers in Indian literature. Premchand didn't just write stories; he wrote the truth of India at a time when colonial rule, social evils, and economic inequality were choking the life out of millions. Through his pen name Premchand, he gave hope and courage to generations. His stories didn’t carry glittering fantasies; they carried real pain, real people, and real India.
Premchand’s early life was full of loss and loneliness. His mother passed away when he was just 8, and soon after, his grandmother too. His father, a busy clerk, remarried, and young Dhanpat found no warmth in his stepmother. Alone, misunderstood, and burdened with emotional silence, he turned to stories and books. In the dusty lanes of Varanasi, he discovered Persian fantasy tales at a tobacconist's shop. He read endlessly, sometimes even selling his own books to survive. But inside him, something magical was growing: a fierce love for truthful storytelling.
At first, he wrote under the pen name Nawab Rai, and his collection Soz-e-Watan (1907) ignited nationalist fire in young Indians. But the British government saw danger in his words and banned the book, even burning copies. Threatened but not silenced, he took on a new identity, Premchand, and continued to write. This was no ordinary name change. It was the start of his transformation into the voice of the voiceless.
Premchand was not interested in palace tales or fiction. His characters were farmers, widows, workers, women, and children—people forgotten by power. His stories dealt with caste and social injustice (as in Karmabhoomi and Godaan), exploitation of peasants (seen vividly in Godaan, his last and greatest novel), child widowhood and women's struggles (Nirmala, Prema), poverty and hunger (Kafan, 1936), and political awakening and the freedom movement (Soz-e-Watan). Even though his stories were soaked in realism, there was always a human warmth and emotional depth. He didn’t blame individuals—he questioned systems.
In 1934, Premchand went to Mumbai to write for films, hoping the medium would spread his messages faster. He worked on Mazdoor, a film about workers’ rights. Ironically, the movie was banned after it inspired real-life workers to strike, including those at his own press! Premchand soon became disillusioned with the money-driven world of cinema and returned to Banaras, poorer but stronger in conviction.
Premchand continued to write even when he was sick and burdened by debt. His last masterpiece, Godaan, is often called the greatest Hindi novel of all time. The story of Hori, a poor farmer longing for a cow, is a heartbreaking yet beautiful portrayal of rural India’s dignity, dreams, and despair. In his final year, he was elected as the first president of the Progressive Writers’ Association, a movement that would later shape modern Indian literature. He passed away on 8 October 1936, but his voice never died. Even today, his stories are taught, translated, adapted, and revered.
Premchand was not just a writer. He was a compassionate observer, a reformer, and a dreamer. His life was marked by personal losses, financial hardships, and constant societal criticism, but he never gave up his mission to write stories that awaken truth, justice, and humanity. His own wife, Shivarani Devi, once a child widow whom he courageously married, wrote about him in her book Premchand Ghar Mein (“Premchand at Home”), offering glimpses of the gentle but determined man behind the powerful words. From schools to postage stamps, from Jamia Millia Islamia to his ancestral house in Lamhi, Premchand lives on. His story Kafan was first published in Jamia, the very place where an archive now preserves his legacy.
On 31 July 2016, Google honored him with a Google Doodle, a global nod to a man who never left India but whose heart held the entire subcontinent.
In a time of social media noise and shrinking attention spans, Premchand’s stories ask us to listen to the silent cries of those we ignore. He reminds us that literature is not just for escape; it is for awakening. Through his words, Premchand made millions feel seen, heard, and understood. That is the power of a true writer. That is the power of Munshi Premchand.