"I Ran All The Way To The Hospital, My Son Bleeding In My Arms... Help Me Save Him!"

He fell from the terrace, 15 feet to the ground. That evening plays in my head again and again, every time I close my eyes. I had just come home from work, sat down to eat, and my wife was still in the kitchen. The kids were playing upstairs, laughing like always. Then, suddenly, a sound. A scream. A thud that felt like it hit my own chest. I ran out, heart pounding, and saw him lying on the ground, my youngest son. He wasn't moving, but he was bleeding. I picked him up with shaking hands. His body was so light, so helpless. I ran barefoot, not even knowing which way I was headed. My shirt was soaked with blood by the time I reached the hospital. I just kept saying, “Please, doctor. Save my child.”

At first, they admitted him. He stayed for six days. There was a small sense of relief when they said he was stable. But it didn’t last. After we brought him home, his condition began to worsen. His head would swell up again and again and he was always in pain. Every time he cried, it felt like something inside me was tearing apart. We took him to another hospital, where they did more scans. That’s when we found out the real damage; the skull had fractured badly. Blood was pooling inside, pressing against his brain. The doctor says surgery is the only way. And it has to happen within the next 10 days. There’s no time left.

I sell snacks and small items on the street. It’s barely enough to keep a roof over our heads. But the moment my son was hurt, I stopped thinking about anything else. My wife and I have already sold her wedding jewellery. We even sold the little piece of land we owned. I haven’t been able to go to work properly since. Most days, I’m either in the hospital or trying to figure out how to get more money. But no matter what I try, it’s not enough. I’ve already spent more than I ever thought I’d have to. And now, when the final treatment is in sight, I’m stuck. This surgery could save him, but I can’t afford it.

My other children—one boy, one girl—used to be full of life. The house would echo with their games and giggles. Now, they barely talk. My elder one has gone completely silent. He doesn’t even come sit beside me anymore. My daughter keeps asking, “When will he play again?” I don’t know how to answer her. Even my wife, who tries to stay strong, cries when no one’s looking. Our whole house feels like it’s holding its breath. We all want to be hopeful, but hope is hard when each day brings more worry.

But now, I’m at a point where I can’t go any further alone. I just want my son to live. I want to hear his laugh again. I want to take him out into the sun, watch him run around with his siblings, like before. Please, if you’re reading this, help us. The doctors say there’s still time—but only if we act quickly. Every rupee you give brings us closer to saving his life. I’ve done everything a father can. Now I’m placing my last hope in your hands.