JEBIN

       Jebin woke before the early dawn every day, long before the call to prayer echoed through the lanes she inhabited. The house was unbearably silent now—ever since her husband’s demise. She washed her face and whispered a short prayer, asking only for strength. Strength had become her true wealth, something she had learned to rely on far more than hope.

      Her husband had not left behind no wealth or property, only debt. His medical bills, borrowed money, unpaid dues - weighed her more heavily than the physical burden she carried. 

         Jebin was uneducated, she never held a pen with confidence, never signed her name without hesitation. But, life did not wait for her literacy. She has entered her married life with hope, yet, it twisted and worsened her fate instead.

         She worked as a nurse in many houses,though no one had ever taught her nursing, she learned by watching, listening, by doing. 

The people she cared for were aged, who were very old, frail and carrying mostly forgotten memories--bodies tied to beds, eyes fixed on ceiling, unexplainable pains buried within and counting days rather than years.

          In one house, she fed an old man and dressed his wounds- He no longer remembered his children, except Jebin.

To him, Jebin was his own mother, the only face his fading memory held on to.

In other house, she cared for an old woman, whose left hand and leg were paralyzed.

She fed her, bathed her, sit beside her and spoke to her with concern and patience. 

The old women often welled up with happy tears, as she feels comforted by Jebin's presence.

       In another house lived an old woman with a fading memory, tied to her bed, sleeping most of the time—no one knew when she was truly awake. Jebin cleaned and bathed her, changed her sheets, and even replaced her pads with quiet, gentle care.

Jebin kept the aged people’s rooms neat and clean, mopping the floors with scented disinfectant. She washed their clothes and attended to every detail with sacred patience and dignity.

       People often asked her, “Why do you work so hard? You could have returned to your parent's house.”

Yet, Jebin was too staunch in her convictions, she replied silence through her signature smile. How could she explain her measured life and hardships.

The debt was her responsibility. Her husband has trusted her even on his death bed, leaving it unpaid is like abandoning him.

There were the days the body and mind ached her so badly, she thought she would even collapse. Every night, the hunger sat beside her as a welcome guest. Yet, every month, she counted her money carefully, separating the little she needed from what she owed. Slowly and painfully her debt reduced little by little.

Life has taught her bitterness,but it burdened her more than the heavy load. Yet, her endurance has no end.

       As years passed, she carried struggles through emptiness, facing storms and thunder, trauma and torment  so on...

Then the final day arrived, she cleared all her debts quietly. Her mind rejoiced in relief, inhaling fresh breeze, weighed mind dissolved as mist in a gentle drizzle.

Her struggles had shaped her into endurance, so, freedom now felt unfamiliar for her.

That night, she knelt  before the Divine and whispered for strength and guidance not for ease and money. 

She had learned that money never truly eases the mind,

Endurance alone teaches resilence and patience.

The next morning, she returned to work.

      For Jebin,

service became her language,

endurance became her identity.

Together, they shaped her into someone steady, strong, and quietly wise.

When faith stands firm and hands keep working, even the heaviest debts—worldly or karmic--can be reduced.

Life does not ask everyone to rise, some are chosen to endure, and in endurance, they become noble.