"She hasn't slept in days — just watches over him, praying for a miracle."
"I Held His Hand When His Father Died.
Now I'm Watching My Son Slip Away."
My name is Sunita. Three years ago, COVID-19 snatched away my husband — the only pillar of our family. Overnight, I became both mother and father to our 7-year-old son, Harshit. I cleaned houses, I cooked in other people's kitchens, I did everything I could to keep him fed and in school. I told him, "Papa is watching over you from heaven, beta. Be strong."
But then, six months ago, Harshit started getting sick. Fever that wouldn't go away. Bruises appearing on his little body for no reason. He stopped eating. He stopped playing. The doctors ran tests, and when they told me the words — Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia — Blood Cancer — my world collapsed. Again.
My son is only 10 years old. He should be playing cricket in the park, not lying in a hospital bed with needles in his arms. He looks at me with those big, tired eyes and asks, "Maa, will I go to where Papa went?" And I have no answer. I just hold him and cry.
The doctors at Rajiv Gandhi Cancer Institute say he needs urgent chemotherapy that will continue for 2½ years. Every day we delay, the cancer grows stronger and my little boy grows weaker. His blood counts are dangerously low. His body can't fight anymore on its own. If we don't start treatment in the next few days, the doctors say he could slip beyond help.
I have spent everything I had. I sold the only gold I owned — my mangalsutra. I borrowed from everyone I know. But the treatment costs ₹15,00,000 (15 Lakh), and I am still so far away. I have no husband, no family, no savings, and no one to turn to.
Please. I am on my knees. Please don't let my son become another statistic. He has already lost his father. Please don't let him lose his life too. Even a small contribution can help buy him one more day, one more chance.
Sunita Devi
Harshit's Mother, Fighting Alone
