Prem sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the flickering tube light. His head throbbed, not just from exhaustion but from the sheer weight of everything he carried. His father’s business was failing, his younger sister’s education depended on him, and his job barely covered their household expenses. On top of it, he had snapped at his mother that morning—something he never did.
“This is not me,” he whispered, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “I only ever wanted happiness for everyone. Why does it feel like everything is crumbling instead?”
He had always believed that if his intentions were good, life would reward him. But here he was—trapped in a spiral of stress, anger, and helplessness. The worst part? He had started reacting in ways he never imagined. Losing patience. Lashing out. Hurting the very people he wanted to protect.
That evening, he stepped out for fresh air, hoping it would ease the turmoil within. As he walked past the tea stall at the corner, he overheard an old man advising a teenager who had just failed his exams.
“You don’t get what you want, son. You only get what you deserve.”
Prem froze. The words struck him like a bolt of lightning. He had been wanting happiness for everyone, including himself, but did he truly deserve it yet?
A flood of memories rushed in—his shortcuts at work, his reluctance to communicate openly with his family, his frustration with circumstances instead of finding solutions. He had assumed that because his intentions were pure, life should just align with his desires. But was he actually doing what was necessary to deserve the peace and happiness he longed for?
He walked back home with a different kind of heaviness—one filled with realization. That night, he sat with a notebook and listed down everything he needed to change.
- Be more patient with family.
- Stop blaming circumstances; find solutions.
- Give his best at work without cutting corners.
- Make time for himself instead of drowning in stress.
Over the next few weeks, things started shifting. He consciously corrected his mistakes—woke up earlier, planned better, and communicated with kindness instead of frustration. When his father shared his worries, instead of shutting down, Prem listened. When his mother hesitated to ask him for help, he reassured her. And at work, he stopped avoiding the tougher responsibilities.
One evening, he came home to his sister grinning from ear to ear. “Bhaiya, I got a scholarship! My tuition is covered!”
His mother, who had been distant for days, patted his cheek. “You’ve been different lately, Prem. It’s like… you found your way back to yourself.”
He smiled, feeling something, he hadn’t in a long time—lightness. The struggles hadn’t disappeared, but something within him had changed.
Happiness wasn’t something he could demand from life. It was something he had to earn.
And now, he finally understood how.