Picture this. You’re 10 years old, practicing your vocal scales in a cramped one room house while neighbors bang on the walls asking you to keep it down. Your classmates call you names because of where you’re from. Every singing competition you enter ends with the same word: rejected. Your family keeps moving because nobody wants to hear your practice sessions.
Would you keep going?
Most people wouldn’t. But Maithili Thakur isn’t like most people. At 25, she just became Bihar’s youngest MLA, defeating a 63 year old political heavyweight by over 11,000 votes. And her story? It’s the kind that makes you want to screenshot it and send it to everyone who’s ever doubted themselves.
Because before the standing ovations and the 30 million combined followers across social media, before the political victory that has everyone talking, there were tears. Lots of them. There were doors slammed in her face. There were classmates who turned her identity into an insult. There were 17 different houses because practicing music was somehow a crime.
But here’s where it gets interesting. Share this with someone who needs to hear that rejection isn’t the end of the story.
When Your Roots Become Your Biggest Burden
Born on July 25, 2000 in Madhubani, Bihar, Maithili arrived into a family where music wasn’t just a hobby. It was oxygen. Her father Ramesh Thakur, a classically trained musician himself, saw something special in his daughter when she was just six years old. Her mother Bharti held the family together while her brothers Rishav and Ayachi joined the musical journey.
But talent alone doesn’t pay bills. When Ramesh lost his job, the family made a tough call. They packed their lives and moved to Najafgarh in Delhi, hunting for better opportunities. What they found instead was a decade of struggle that would break most families apart.
Here’s the part that hits different. They changed houses 17 times in 10 years. Not because they couldn’t pay rent. Not because they were troublemakers. But because neighbors complained about the music practice. A father trying to train his children. Kids trying to chase their dreams. And society saying your passion is too loud, too inconvenient, too much.
Imagine being told your gift is a nuisance.
The family could only afford single room accommodations attached to other people’s homes. Every riyaaz session, every practice hour became a source of tension. Maithili and her brothers were never naughty kids causing trouble. They were simply trying to perfect their craft. But in a country where pursuing art is often seen as impractical, their dedication was met with complaints instead of encouragement.
The School Where Being Bihari Became A Slur
Recognition for her talent earned Maithili free admission to a private school in Delhi. Sounds like a win, right? Not quite.
Surrounded by affluent classmates who discussed their next international vacation and weekend sleepovers, Maithili felt like an outsider looking in through glass. The cultural and economic gap was massive. But nothing prepared her for the casual cruelty that came with it.
They called her “stupid Bihari.” Let that sink in for a moment. Your identity, your heritage, your home state turned into a weapon. She revealed in an interview that being Bihari had become like a cuss word. When two girls from Haryana fought, they’d call each other Bihari to insult one another. The word meant backward, uncool, less than.
Maithili developed a phobia of girls her age. She feared their comments, their judgment, their casual dismissal of who she was. So she became a first bencher who never made friends. She couldn’t relate to their conversations about trips and parties. Her family wasn’t financially sound enough for those luxuries. She was ashamed to tell them she lived in Najafgarh, which was far from the posh neighborhoods they called home.
The loneliness must have been crushing. Being talented enough to get free admission but feeling too different to belong. Having a voice that could move millions but being too scared to use it among peers.
Don’t miss this next part about how rejection after rejection almost made her quit everything.
Six Times Reality Shows Said No
With raw talent and years of rigorous training under her father’s guidance, Maithili started auditioning for television singing competitions. These shows were launching pads for careers. One yes could change everything.
She got six nos instead.
Her first attempt was Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Lil Champs. The feedback? Too inclined towards classical music. She was rejected for being too good at one thing. In 2015, she tried Indian Idol. Her father encouraged her to stay true to classical roots. Another rejection. Same reason.
“Sometimes they don’t even tell you why you are rejected,” she admitted. “I used to feel extremely bad.”
She cried. A lot. Each rejection chipped away at her confidence. The cumulative weight of being told you’re not good enough, not the right fit, not what we’re looking for started crushing her spirit.
It got so bad that she considered walking away from music entirely. “I wanted to quit singing and prepare for UPSC. I was good at studies,” she revealed. A young girl talented enough to dream of civil services, but passionate enough about music that giving it up felt like losing a part of herself.
Think about that. Six different platforms looked at this incredible talent and said no thanks. Six times the door closed. Six times she had to pick herself up and decide whether to try again.
Most people would have quit after two or three rejections. She kept going.
The Breakthrough That Almost Didn’t Happen
2017 changed everything. Maithili auditioned for Rising Star while still in school. This time, something clicked. Her soulful rendition of devotional songs, particularly “Om Namah Shivaya,” won hearts across the nation. She gained direct entry into the finals. The girl who had been rejected six times was suddenly a national finalist.
She finished as the first runner up. She lost the title by just two votes. Two votes separated her from the winner’s trophy. Some might see that as another near miss, another almost but not quite. But this time, losing changed everything in the best way possible.
Rising Star gave her national visibility. It validated years of struggle. It proved to everyone who doubted her that classical and folk music could resonate with modern audiences. More importantly, it proved it to herself.
Social Media Became Her Stage
After Rising Star, Maithili made a smart pivot. If traditional platforms were limited, she’d create her own. With her brothers Rishav on tabla and Ayachi on vocals and percussion, she started posting on YouTube and Facebook. This was before being a digital creator was mainstream, before everyone understood the power of building an audience online.
The trio sang Maithili folk songs, Bhojpuri classics, devotional music, and renditions from the Ramcharitmanas. They weren’t chasing trends. They were staying true to their roots while making traditional music accessible to younger, global audiences. The authenticity showed.
Their subscriber count exploded. Today, Maithili has 5 million YouTube subscribers, 6 million Instagram followers, and over 14 million on Facebook. That’s 25 million people who chose to follow her journey. The girl who was once ashamed to tell classmates where she lived now had fans across continents.
In 2020, the family finally moved into a bigger apartment in Dwarka, Delhi. They got it soundproofed. No more angry neighbors. No more moving houses. No more being told their music was a disturbance. The same practice sessions that once got them evicted were now attracting millions of viewers.
Success looked good on them. But it looked even better when recognition came from official quarters.
Awards And Recognition Started Pouring In
In 2021, the Sangeet Natak Akademi awarded Maithili the prestigious Ustad Bismillah Khan Yuva Puraskar for her contribution to Bihar’s folk music. This isn’t some random trophy. It’s one of India’s highest honors for young performing artists. The girl rejected from reality shows was now being celebrated by the nation’s premier arts academy.
She also received the National Creators Award, acknowledging her impact as a digital creator who captivated over 4 million viewers worldwide with performances that blended tradition with technology. The Election Commission of India named her the State Icon of Bihar, recognizing her cultural influence and deep connection to Mithila’s folk traditions.
Offices of filmmakers Karan Johar and Yash Chopra called. The same industry that once rejected her was now coming to her door.
But Maithili had bigger plans.
The Political Plunge Nobody Saw Coming
In October 2025, just weeks before the Bihar Assembly elections, Maithili Thakur joined the Bharatiya Janata Party. Political analysts were skeptical. She was 25. She had zero political experience. She was a singer, not a seasoned politician. The Alinagar constituency in Darbhanga had significant Muslim population and had been out of BJP’s hands for 17 long years.
Her opponent? Binod Mishra from RJD, a 63 year old political veteran who knew the game inside out.
It looked like a mismatch on paper. But Maithili brought something politicians spend careers trying to manufacture: genuine connection. People already knew her. They had grown up watching her videos. They played her songs at festivals. She wasn’t some outsider parachuted in for electoral gains. She was one of them who had made it big and was now coming back to serve.
Her entire family campaigned. Her brothers sang folk songs at rallies. Her maternal uncles Nand Kishore Jha and Sumit Jha coordinated logistics. It was a family effort, just like everything they’d ever done.
Her promises were practical. Introduce Mithila painting as an extracurricular activity in schools. Rename Alinagar as Sitanagar. Focus on education, especially for girls. Create employment opportunities for jobless youth. These weren’t grand, impossible promises. They were specific, achievable goals rooted in understanding what her community needed.
Making History At 25
When counting began on November 14, Maithili led from the start. By the end, she had defeated Binod Mishra by 11,730 votes. At exactly 25 years old, she became the youngest MLA in Bihar’s history, breaking the record previously held by 26 year old Tauseef Alam in 2005 and later matched by Tejashwi Yadav who won at 26 in 2015.
More significantly, she brought BJP back to Alinagar after 17 years. The same number as the houses her family changed during their struggle years. Coincidence? Maybe. But it feels poetic.
Reacting to her win, Maithili said the political journey was “unexpected but deeply fulfilling.” She’d been confident of people’s support from the start, not because of arrogance, but because she understood her constituency. She’d lived their struggles. She represented their aspirations.
What This Story Really Means
Here’s why Maithili Thakur’s journey matters beyond one electoral victory. It’s proof that rejection is redirection. Those six reality show rejections? They pushed her toward social media, where she built an audience bigger than any TV show could have given her. Being mocked for being Bihari? It grounded her in her roots so deeply that her cultural authenticity became her superpower.
The 17 house changes that could have broken her family’s spirit instead strengthened their bond and determination. Every obstacle became fuel. Every closed door meant she had to build her own.
This is a Gen Z story for Gen Z times. Maithili didn’t wait for traditional gatekeepers to validate her. She created her own platform. She didn’t hide her background or try to fit into elite circles. She doubled down on being authentically herself. She didn’t follow the conventional career path. She carved her own.
And now she’s in a position to shape policy for thousands of people who see themselves in her story.
The Bigger Picture
At just 25, Maithili Thakur has accomplished what most people don’t in entire lifetimes. She’s a nationally recognized artist with over 30 million followers across platforms. She’s an award winning performer honored by India’s premier arts institution. She’s a political giant killer who defeated a veteran opponent on her first attempt. She’s Bihar’s youngest MLA ever.
But perhaps her greatest achievement is showing millions of young Indians, especially young women from small towns and marginalized backgrounds, that your starting point doesn’t determine your destination. Being different isn’t a disadvantage. It’s your edge.
The classmates who called her “stupid Bihari” are probably watching her take oath as an MLA and wondering what went wrong in their lives. The reality shows that rejected her are probably kicking themselves for not recognizing talent when it was right in front of them. The neighbors who complained about practice noise are probably bragging about once living next to Maithili Thakur.
What Happens Next?
Maithili’s real test begins now. Winning an election on a wave of goodwill and cultural connection is one thing. Governing effectively, delivering on promises, and navigating the complex world of legislative politics is entirely different. She’ll be the youngest person in the Assembly, likely underestimated by senior politicians who’ve been playing this game since before she was born.
But if her track record teaches us anything, it’s this. Underestimate Maithili Thakur at your own peril. She’s been counted out before. She’s been rejected, mocked, and dismissed. Every single time, she came back stronger.
Her story isn’t finished. It’s just beginning a new chapter.
Ready to get inspired? Share this story with someone who’s facing rejection right now. Drop a comment below telling us about a time you turned a no into a bigger yes. And if you’re from Bihar, tell us what Maithili’s victory means to you.
Follow for more stories of people who refused to let circumstances define their destiny. Because in a world that loves overnight success stories, we need to celebrate the 10 year journeys that make those overnight moments possible.
Maithili Thakur changed 17 houses before making history. How many times will you let rejection stop you from trying one more time?
