Aanya was the firstborn—a title that carried more than just responsibility. It carried the weight of dreams unfulfilled, sacrifices unseen, and a promise she made to herself when she was still too young to understand its cost.

Her mother, a schoolteacher by profession and a warrior by heart, worked tirelessly. After long hours in the classroom, she rushed home only to continue tutoring neighborhood kids until the sky grew dark. By the time she finished grading papers, her eyes drooped with exhaustion—but there was always more to do.

Her father, a store in-charge, left the house before the sun rose and returned after it had long set. His hands were rough from years of labor, his back ached, but he never said a word about it. He believed his job wasn’t just to provide—it was to ensure that his family never felt the weight of his struggles.

Aanya saw everything. The tired smiles. The sacrifices. The dreams they set aside for her and her younger sister, Diya.

Diya was sweet and full of mischief. She was the kind of girl who would steal Aanya’s clothes, leave sticky fingerprints on her books, and still melt her heart with a single smile. If anyone deserved the world, it was Diya. Whatever Aanya had missed growing up—the new clothes, the fun school trips, the feeling of freedom—she swore her sister would never have to.

But life wasn’t fair.

She remembered the family gatherings, where her mother’s siblings arrived in shiny cars, their conversations buzzing with vacations and comforts. They lived lives her parents never allowed themselves to dream of. While her uncles and aunts gave their parents grand gifts, Aanya’s mother offered love—and yet, Aanya knew deep down that her mother wished she could give more.

Aanya wanted to change that.

She wanted her mother to know what rest felt like. She wanted her father to smile without the shadow of worry. And most of all, she wanted Diya to grow up never feeling the things she did—never having to wonder, Why can’t we have that too?

Most of all, she wanted to change everything.

When Aanya started college, she knew the only way out was forward. She didn’t have the luxury of slacking off.

While others spent weekends watching movies, she picked up part-time tutoring jobs. When her friends took vacations, Aanya stayed back, studying late into the night. Every sleepless hour wasn’t just about building a future for herself—it was about giving her parents the peace they had never known.

By her final year, campus placements arrived. Most students searched for the easiest path. Aanya searched for the strongest one—the job that would change everything.

When a demanding but well-paying company came to recruit, Aanya didn’t hesitate. The interviewer asked her, “Why do you want this job?”

She smiled softly, her heart full of the faces she loved. “Because my parents deserve a life where they can finally rest.”

She got the job.

The work was tough. Deadlines loomed. Sleep became a luxury. But every time Aanya felt like giving up, she thought of her mother staying up to finish tutoring while her father stood for hours at the store. If they could do it for her, she could do it for them.

Her first salary wasn’t much, but when she placed it in her mother’s hands, the tears in her mother’s eyes told her everything. It was the first time her mother didn’t have to carry the weight alone.

But Aanya wasn’t done yet.

For the next year, she worked tirelessly. The job was demanding—there were days she barely slept, nights she questioned if she could keep going. But every time she thought about quitting, she remembered her father, who never had the option to stop. If he could do it, so could she.

And then, one evening, after months of saving every spare penny, she did something that had always been a distant dream.

She bought them their first car.

When she pulled into the driveway, her mother dropped the laundry basket in shock. Her father stood at the door, speechless, the keys trembling in his hands.

“It’s yours,” Aanya said softly. “No more crowded trains or buses. No more walking for miles.”

Her mother tried to speak, but her voice broke into a sob. Her father ran a hand over the sleek red car, his eyes shining. For the first time, Aanya saw something new on his face—joy.

But Aanya didn’t stop there.

She took Diya shopping for things she had only ever dreamed of—new clothes, fancy shoes, and art supplies for her drawings. Every school trip Diya wanted to go on, Aanya made sure she didn’t miss.

Everything Aanya had to struggle for, she gave to Diya freely. She wanted her sister to live without ever feeling the heavy weight of “no.”

One evening, as they all piled into the car for their first family drive, Aanya watched her father laugh freely—no tension in his shoulders. Her mother reached out to hold her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’ve given us more than we ever dreamed, Kannamma”, she whispered.

Aanya smiled through the tears that burned her eyes. “I only did what you’ve done for me, Amma.”

Diya, the mischievous cutie, was quiet for a moment before whispering, “I’m going to do the same for you someday.” Aanya couldn’t believe that her sister was growing up so fast, and happy tears rolled down her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you will,” Aanya teased, ruffling her sister’s hair.

And as the car moved along the open road, windows down, laughter filling the air, Aanya realized that this wasn’t just a gift—it was a promise.

A promise that as long as she could, she would make sure her parents lived—not just survived.

Because for everything they had given her, this was the least she could do.