Arjun was fifteen years old. He was sharp and always full of anger. Since his father died few years ago, his life took a turn. The once playful and agile boy had become short-tempered and ungrateful. He blamed their condition, but mostly, he blamed his mother.
To him, his mother was weak, too quiet and simple. She worked as a housemaid in three homes just to be able to pack his lunch, keep their lights on, she tried her best to fill the holes left by his father, but Arjun never saw any of that.
All he saw was an old woman who couldn’t buy him a better phone, didn’t give him pocket money and told him to always be patient. And he hated all of that. His friends had better phones and clothes and their parents always took them on vacation. So why couldn’t his mum be like them?
One night after she’d told him not to waste food and reminded him how hard it was for her to get their meal, he talked back. “You don’t know what it’s like to be me, you wouldn’t get it. You just sit at home all day and act like you’re doing everything all by yourself. I wish I could be for a day, you would get to see who has the harder life.” And he stormed to his room.
That night, something impossible happened. He work up on a floor mat with a sore back and throbbing knees. His hands were rough and when he looked at the mirror, he was shocked. He was his mother.
He tried making breakfast, he burned his hand. He washed his own school uniform and his back hurt from squatting to wash them by hand. By 7am, he was mopping someone else tiled floor, listening to their insults and endless rants. The next house was worse, he cleaned, washed and cooked for a family. It tasted bad and he was shouted at. Even when one child dropped a plate, she was asked to clean it up.
By noon, his legs were tired. His stomach growled but there was no time to sit down and have a proper meal. And when she wanted to collect her pay for the day, they threw the money on the floor instead of handing it to him. Arjun picked up the change, it was only enough for one day’s meal. How was his mother able to afford buying his books and clothes?
And when he arrived home, he looked at his real self, seated comfortably on the couch. “Ma! Food!”
He cried like he hadn’t in a long time, he was truly ashamed of himself. He didn’t see the things she did for him and had added to his mother’s pain.
The next day, he was back to his room and his own body. He ran out to see his mother by the stove and he hugged her tight, for the first time in years.
“What happened? Are you hungry?” she asked, surprised.
“I want to help today, ma.”
And from that day on, everything changed. He stopped shouting, he studied even harder and didn’t ask his mother for things they couldn’t afford.
He’d lived her life for a day and experienced her pain. He began to respect his mother. Now, she was the strongest person he’d ever known.
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