I saw mom as a strong and independent human. But yesterday I realized how frail she can be. Her pale skin, the wrinkled face and the sleep-deprived eyes, surrounded by dark circles. Did she always look like this, or did I never pay attention? The doctor asked me yesterday - What does her diet consist of? Any changes in her health in the past week? At what time does she leave for work? I didn't even know what work she does!

I knew that I was self-centered and I didn't care for the people around me. I never tried to learn more about them. That's how I have survived before. But after spending all this time with her, I have realized that she was different and cared for me selflessly. I was worried about her yesterday as she laid unconscious on the bed. I kept looking at the clock, possibly more times than I do so during a botany lecture.

'Rise and shine young man. I have made a sandwich for you. Make sure you eat it! I am back to my prime and my health bar is full, thanks to the doctor's help. So don't waste time worrying about me and go buy those textbooks and START STUDYING!!' said the note placed next to the breakfast.

She had left for work early in the morning as usual. Isn't she supposed to take a few days of bed rest? I guess she wasn't lying about it just being a stroke.

I grabbed the money she gave me yesterday and stepped outside. I had spent the whole afternoon reading random stuff on the internet and I found out that there are thousands of other ways to earn good money and have an easy life rather than paying a hefty sum for education and getting a job. It's just that parents are unaware of these methods and can't trust them with their child's future.

At the bookstore, I bought four volumes of Physics, Chemistry, Zoology, and Botany each, which surprisingly cost more than a whole month of living expenses. Each book was heavy enough to be used as a weapon. It was getting dark. The street lights illuminated the avenue as I walked towards the home.

"Hey, Asura." A hoarse voice called out my name. I looked around and noticed an obese man in a bakery waving his hand. He wore an apron and had spots of flour all over him. Confused, I headed towards the bakery.

"You have become so tall, the last time you came here with your mom you were about this tall." He placed his small round hand at the level of his fat waist, "Hehehe. It seems that you don't remember me. Your mom buys bread every day on her way to work. She talks about you a lot. About how proud she is that you passed the entrance exam for a prestigious college and are now preparing for the NEAT exam. My son is too dumb for something like that. Hahaha." He laughed once again joggling his huge belly,

"Here take this, a gift from me." He handed me a pack of freshly baked bread. I thanked him and put the bread in the bag along with the books.

Something kept bothering me. Does she only eat a piece of bread for breakfast? And why would she buy bread from this bakery, when the bus stop is just a minute away from home. It doesn't make sense. The place she works at is in Mulund, which is six kilometers from Thane. Wait. This path falls on the route from Thane to Mulund. Does she walk all the way to work!? No. That's not possible.

When I entered my society, the watchman approached me, "You live in room no. 202, right? Your mails and bills are piling up. Make sure you pick them up on your way."

I checked the mailbox and it was stuffed with letters and mails. I picked out the ones that were addressed to our apartment. It was still 7 pm and mom doesn't return home until 11:30. My shoulders were sore from the weight of the bag filled with rock-heavy books. I threw it away with a swinging motion on the floor and dove into the bed.

I opened the mails and I was appalled to see that we haven't paid the water bill, electricity bill, and taxes for the last 4 months. I knew that we were struggling financially but I didn't know that our condition was this bad. After the father's death, she took all the financial responsibilities upon her shoulders. How can she always put a smile on her face while being under this enormous pressure of debt?

I noticed a piece of crumpled paper on the floor next to the bed. I unfolded it. It was a prescription, probably given by the doctor yesterday. Why is it discarded away like this? Doesn't mom need this to buy the medicines? I was just about to call mom to ask her about it when my phone suddenly rang.

I answered, "Hello?"

"Hello. Am I speaking to Asura Singh?" a female was on the other side of the phone.

"Yes. Who is this?" I asked.

"I am speaking from the Fortis hospital and I feel extremely unfortunate to inform you that your mother has passed away."