Benjamin was in jail serving 30 years for robbing banks.
After serving about 12 years he is notified that his Uncle from Ludhiana has died and left him over $50000. Benjamin was so happy when the warden said he would put it in trust untll he was released.

The warden asked him if there was anything he wanted to buy before tying the money up. Benjamin said he had read a lot about computers and wanted a computer.

The warden said “sure” and got him a computer.

A brand new Compaq computer. After a few weeks the warden visitied him in his cell to see how he was doing. To his amazement he saw the computer smashed on the floor.

The warden asked Benjamin what happened. Benjamin said it didn`t work right and he got mad. He said it would not even complete the simplest task.

The warden asked him what he wanted the computer to do. Benjamin said he just wanted one thing from the computer. One simple task and it could not do it.

Benjamin said, “I hit the escape key and nothing happened, I hit the key again and still nothin, I am still here. I think I will sue Compaq.”

There was this burglary and the main burglar shouted to all the bank employees:
“Nobody move, money belongs to the government, life belongs to you”.

Everyone in the bank laid down quietly.

This is called “Mind Changing Concept –> Changing the conventional way of thinking”.

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When the burglars got back, the younger burglar (MBA) told the older burglar (who is only primary school educated), “Bro, let’s count how much we got”, the older burglar rebutted and said, “You very stupid, so much money, how to count, tonight TV will tell us how much we robbed from the bank!”

This is called “Experience –> sometimes experience is more important than paper qualifications!”

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After the burglars left, the bank manager told the bank supervisor to call the police quickly. The supervisor says “Wait, wait wait, let’s put the 10 million pounds we embezzled into the amount the burglars robbed”.

This is called “Swim with the tide –> converting an unfavorable situation to your advantage!”

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The next day, TV news reported that 50 million pounds was taken from the bank. The burglars counted and counted and counted, but they could only count 20 million pounds. The burglars were very angry and complained “We risked our lives and only took 20 million pounds, the bank manager took 30 million pounds with a snap of his fingers. It looks like it is better to be educated to be a thief!”

This is called “Knowledge is worth as much as gold!”

Benjamin was in jail.

Benjamin was serving a 30-year sentence for robbing banks, a life defined by concrete walls, locked doors, and the echo of his own thoughts. For 12 years, he had adjusted to the rigid routine, the harsh schedules, and the unyielding scrutiny of guards, all while trying to survive and stay sane. He had long ago accepted that freedom was a distant, almost abstract idea, a horizon he might never reach. Yet, even within the confines of his sentence, life had a way of reminding him that the world beyond the bars still existed.

It came in the form of a letter from the warden. His uncle from Ludhiana had died, leaving Benjamin over $50,000. At first, the words didn’t sink in. Money while behind bars was usually meaningless; the concept of wealth seemed hollow in a place where every day was measured by head counts and locked cells. But the warden’s next words sparked a flicker of joy in Benjamin’s chest: the money would be placed in a trust for him until his release. For the first time in years, Benjamin felt a pulse of hope—an unexpected reward from a family member he barely knew, a tangible connection to life outside the walls that had become his entire universe.

He imagined what he could do with the money: paying off debts, starting over, maybe even opening a small business. But along with happiness came a flood of memories and regrets. He remembered the thrill of the heists that landed him in prison, the friends lost along the way, and the moments he could never reclaim. The money was a bridge to a life he had only dared to dream of—a second chance wrapped in the bittersweet knowledge that it had taken tragedy to bring it. He realized he would have to plan carefully. The trust wouldn’t be a blank check; it was a tool, a lifeline that required foresight and discipline.

In the weeks that followed, Benjamin began to think differently about his future. He enrolled in courses offered in the prison, learning skills he had never taken seriously before. He saved small amounts from his prison wages, mentally preparing to combine them with the inheritance. His excitement wasn’t just about spending the money—it was about the possibility of using it as a foundation to rebuild his life. He spoke cautiously with a few trusted inmates, sharing bits of his plan and hearing advice, all while keeping the broader vision to himself. For the first time in over a decade, he felt a measure of control over his destiny.

Benjamin also wrestled with ethical questions. Part of him wondered if he deserved this windfall, whether the money somehow carried the weight of his past mistakes. But he decided that while he could not undo his crimes, he could choose to use this inheritance to create something positive. He drafted a detailed plan: pay off old debts, invest in education, and eventually find a legitimate way to earn a living. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to dream about redemption and stability. The inheritance wasn’t just wealth—it was a symbol, a tangible incentive to become someone he could respect upon leaving prison.

When the day of his release finally arrived, Benjamin walked out with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. The money, waiting in trust, was ready to help him step into the unknown. Every decision he made in the coming days, weeks, and months would be informed by the lessons learned behind bars, the guidance of his inheritance, and the determination to make a life that was finally his own. That simple act of family support, the foresight to leave him a financial lifeline, had changed not just his day—but the trajectory of the life he had long assumed would end in regret and confinement. For Benjamin, freedom was no longer just a physical release; it was a chance to reclaim himself.