“What Fault Is His? Why Must an Innocent Child Suffer Like This?!” cries the mother.

Every night before I sleep, I look at my son and ask God, “What wrong did we do? What sin did we commit that our child has to suffer like this?”

 He’s only 11… but his life has been full of pain since the very beginning. From the moment he opened his eyes, pain has been his only companion. His body is weak, his stomach keeps swelling every day, and his eyes… his eyes speak a thousand words he cannot say.

He cannot walk. He cannot talk. He cannot even call me Ma. I keep waiting, every single day, that maybe today he’ll try to speak, maybe today he’ll respond when I touch his face. But he just stares at me, silent, helpless, in pain. And that silence… that silence kills me a little more every day.

Sometimes, I try to feed him, holding the spoon carefully because even a small movement hurts him. His little body trembles, his face tightens with pain, and tears roll down his cheeks. I wipe them, pretending to be strong, but inside, I’m breaking!

What is his fault? What has this innocent child done to deserve such a cruel life? He has never hurt anyone, never even spoken a word, yet he’s trapped in this body that keeps punishing him every single day.

When people see him, some look with pity, some with questions in their eyes, as if we did something wrong. But tell me, what mother would ever choose this for her child? I carried him in my womb with dreams, hopes, and love, never imagining I would watch him suffer like this. It isn’t our fault. It isn’t his fault. It’s just fate… a fate that I wish I could change.

There are days when I have to choose between staying beside him or earning for the family. But how do I leave him? If I go to work, who will take care of him? He cannot even move on his own. He needs me for everything,  to feed him, to bathe him, to clean him, to help him breathe through another painful day. His father works as a daily-wage labourer, earning barely ₹5,000 a month. 

Over the years, we somehow managed to spend ₹10,000 for his treatment, every rupee gathered through struggle. But now, the doctors at Sheetal Chaya Hospital in Jabalpur say his condition has become serious. His stomach swelling needs urgent attention, and his neuro-motor condition is worsening.

The treatment cost is ₹8.5 lakhs. For us, it feels impossible. For a family that lives day by day, that amount feels like an unscalable mountain. Every night, I sit beside him and hold his hand. Sometimes, he looks at me with those big eyes, full of pain, but also trust. 

As if he believes I can save him. And that’s what keeps me going. I don’t want to lose hope. I don’t want to lose my son. I just want him to live a life without pain, to breathe freely, to smile without crying.

I have seen other children his age running, shouting, playing in the streets, their laughter echoing in the evening air. And every time, I close my eyes and imagine, maybe someday, my Mayank will too. Maybe someday he’ll walk. Maybe someday I’ll hear him call me Ma.

I’m not asking for much. Just for my child to live. Just for a little mercy. Just for one chance to save him. Because no mother deserves to watch her child suffer like this… and no child deserves to live in so much pain!” cries Mayank’s helpless mother.