There was a time when my father, Rajesh, 53, ran a small food cart in the lanes of Bareilly. The smell of his parathas filled the air, and his laughter filled our home. He worked from dawn till night, never once complaining. For him, every meal he served meant one more step towards our dreams, a better life, our own house, peace after years of struggle. But today, that same man lies in a hospital bed, weak.

I’m his son, Shikhar. A few months ago, we were told that my father had liver cirrhosis, his liver was badly damaged and couldn’t clean his blood anymore. Slowly, his body began to change. His skin turned yellow from jaundice, then darker. He can’t eat properly. He hasn’t slept a peaceful night in months. The man who once fed others now struggles to swallow a spoonful of food.

Doctors said he needs a liver transplant right away. I’m the donor. I didn’t even have to think twice, he gave me life once, now it’s my turn to give him his back. The surgery will cost a set of lakhs, something far beyond what our small food cart income could ever provide. Everything we had, our savings, a few borrowed rupees, has already gone into medicines and hospital visits. We’ve spent nearly ₹10 lakhs trying to keep him stable. But his condition worsens with each passing day.

At night, he sometimes whispers, “I just want one good sleep without this pain.” And I hold his hand gently, hiding my tears. Watching him suffer breaks something inside me. He can’t walk now. His eyes are tired, but his spirit still wants to live. He still dreams of buying that small home, of sitting beside my mother with a cup of tea, of seeing our family laugh again.

We are 5 in total - my father, mother, my two siblings, and me. And only he earned for us, right until his body refused to go on. Now everything stands still. We are fighting not just for his survival but for our family’s heartbeat.

If you’re reading this, I ask you with all my heart - please help my father get this transplant. Help him get back to the life he built with love and sweat.

He dreams of peace. Of home.

How to help:

Donate: Click on the ‘Donate Now’ button and contribute to Rajesh’s treatment.

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एक समय था जब मेरे पिता, 53 वर्षीय राजेश, बरेली की गलियों में एक छोटा सा ठेला चलाते थे। उनके पराठों की खुशबू हवा में महकती थी और उनकी हँसी हमारे घर में गूंजती थी। वे सुबह से रात तक काम करते थे, कभी कोई शिकायत नहीं करते थे। उनके लिए, उनके द्वारा परोसा गया हर खाना हमारे सपनों की ओर एक और कदम था, एक बेहतर ज़िंदगी, अपना घर, सालों के संघर्ष के बाद सुकून। लेकिन आज, वही आदमी अस्पताल के बिस्तर पर कमज़ोर पड़ा है।

मैं उनका बेटा शिखर हूँ। कुछ महीने पहले, हमें बताया गया कि मेरे पिता को लिवर सिरोसिस है, उनका लिवर बुरी तरह क्षतिग्रस्त हो गया था और अब वह खून साफ़ नहीं कर सकता था। धीरे-धीरे, उनके शरीर में बदलाव आने लगे। पीलिया से उनकी त्वचा पीली पड़ गई, फिर काली पड़ गई। वे ठीक से खा नहीं पाते। महीनों से उन्होंने चैन की नींद नहीं सोई है। जो आदमी कभी दूसरों को खाना खिलाता था, अब उसे एक चम्मच खाना निगलने में भी दिक्कत होती है।