The Househelp

Chapter 1 : The boy with kind eyes

Isana works as a clinical psychologist in a MNC. Being a strong willed and independent woman she never relied on someone else to make decisions on her behalf......she stays in a 2BHK in the heart of Mumbai and her only companion is her househelp a young man with kind eyes and a warm smile.......despite all the hardships he faced his approach towards life still remained optimistic and that has always managed to fascinate Isana....

The monsoon rains had arrived, and with them, a sudden drop in temperature. The usually cheerful Shubman had been moving a bit slower over the past few days, his skin slightly pale and a faint cough escaping his lips now and then. Isana noticed the change but didn't press him-she knew he was too proud to admit when something was wrong.

One afternoon, Isana returned home earlier than usual. The house was quieter than she expected, and she found Shubman in the kitchen, trying to lift a heavy pot onto the stove. His hands trembled as he did so, and she could see the effort it took just to hold it steady.

"Shubman, are you feeling alright?" Isana asked, concern creeping into her voice.

Shubman flashed his usual smile, though it lacked its usual brightness. "I'm fine, ma'am. Just a little tired, that's all."

But as he spoke, his legs wavered slightly, and he quickly reached out to steady himself on the counter. Isana's eyes narrowed with worry. "You're not fine, Shubman. You're sweating and shivering at the same time. You should rest."

Shubman shook his head, his stubbornness shining through. "I can't rest, ma'am. There's too much work to be done."

She was about to insist he take a break when suddenly, his face contorted in pain. He swayed on his feet, the color draining from his face even more. Isana rushed forward just as he collapsed, his body going limp. She caught him in her arms, the weight of him pulling them both to the ground.

"Shubman!" she cried, her voice trembling with panic. She gently laid him down, her hands frantically checking his forehead. He was burning up, his skin hot to the touch. His breathing was shallow and uneven, and as she placed a hand on his chest, she could feel the rapid thumping of his heart beneath her fingers.

Isana's mind raced. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed how ill he truly was. "Shubman, wake up! Please!"

His eyelids fluttered weakly, and he tried to speak, but his voice was a mere whisper. "I'm sorry, ma'am... I didn't want to trouble you."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "Don't apologize, Shubman. You should have told me you were sick. You've been pushing yourself too hard."

His breathing hitched as he tried to smile, his usual optimism breaking through the haze of fever. "Didn't want to let you down..."

"You could never let me down," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

She carefully lifted his head, cradling it in her lap as she stroked his sweat-dampened hair. His body was trembling, and she could feel the fever burning through him like a furnace. The signs were all too clear-he had been hiding a severe illness for days, possibly longer. The combination of a high fever, chills, and that persistent cough indicated something serious, likely pneumonia.

Isana knew she needed to act quickly. She grabbed her phone with one hand, dialing the doctor as she continued to hold Shubman with the other. As she waited for the call to connect, she couldn't take her eyes off his pale face, twisted in pain even in unconsciousness.

"Stay with me, Shubman," she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency. "You're going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

The doctor arrived within the hour, and as they worked to stabilize Shubman, Isana stayed by his side, her hands never leaving his. Even when he was finally moved to a bed, she refused to leave him, her heart heavy with guilt for not noticing sooner.