The daughter-in-law slept in the in-laws’ house till 10 o’clock, the mother-in-law picked up a stick to hit her, but was stunned to see the scene on the bed…
After the wedding rituals were over, Mrs Sharma cleaned the house and got exhausted and went to sleep, while her son Amit and daughter-in-law Priya had also gone to their room a long time ago. But the next morning she woke up at 5 a.m. and started cleaning again as the house was stained with dust and oil. But it was 10 o’clock, his waist was bent, yet there was no movement from above.

Read more

00:00

00:00
01:31

Just then, he called out from below: “Bahu o bahu, come down and cook.” Bahu and bahu. There was no answer for a long time, so he called out again: “Daughter-in-law, get up.” ”

Since her legs were painful, she didn’t want to go up and down the stairs again and again, so she stood down and called out slowly, but still didn’t get any answer. She was also tired and angry, so she picked up a stick kept in the corner of the kitchen and went upstairs to teach the daughter-in-law a lesson.

As soon as she reached the top, she was panting: “What kind of daughter-in-law is this, newly married and knows no etiquette, lying in bed until the full afternoon.” Get up. After saying this, she removed the blanket, but she was surprised to see blood on the bed sheet…

Mrs. Sharma’s breath stopped as soon as the blanket was removed. The blood on the white sheet was as if someone had poured red ink. The stick slipped from his hand and fell to the ground. “Oh my God!” was all that came out of his mouth. At that moment, he began to feel all the rigidity within him was useless. He shook Priya’s shoulder with trembling fingers—”Daughter-in-law… Daughter-in-law!” No answer. Amit was sitting in the other corner of the bed, his face pale, his eyes swollen, as if he had cried all night.

“This… What’s all this?” the mother-in-law’s voice stuck in her throat. Amit said in a hoarse voice, “Mother… Priya was in a lot of pain since last night. I thought I’d be fine in the morning, but…” His words remained incomplete. Mrs. Sharma quickly touched Priya’s forehead—cold sweat, dry lips, breathlessness. He was suddenly ashamed of his morning annoyance.

He immediately said, “Call an ambulance!” Amit’s phone was in his hand, but his fingers were trembling. As soon as she got the call, Mrs. Sharma spoke to herself—”Send it quickly, my daughter-in-law is in a very bad condition. Within a few minutes, there was a rush in the house. Seema aunty of the neighborhood arrived, someone heated water, someone toweled.

The ambulance arrived. The doctors put Priya on a stretcher. As he was leaving, Amit looked at his mother—”Mother, I am scared. For the first time, there was such fear in his son’s eyes. Mrs. Sharma put her hand on his head—”Be courageous, son. ”

At the hospital, it was discovered that Priya had suddenly suffered internal bleeding—a rare complication, the symptoms of which had worsened at night. The doctor said in a stern tone, “It was necessary to bring it on time. If it was too late…” The sentence was left incomplete, but its meaning shook everyone.

The waiting hours outside the operation theatre were long. Mrs. Sharma sat on the bench. He remembered how, in fatigue, he had entrusted Priya with the task without asking; How in the morning he had spoken harsh words without knowing it. A voice echoed in his mind—she is a new daughter-in-law, but she is also human.

Suddenly Amit burst into tears. “Mom, I didn’t even ask her if she was in pain. Just thought… It’s a new marriage, there will be fatigue. Mrs. Sharma pulled him close to her. “Mistakes happen to all of us. But today we will learn. ”

Hours later, the doctor came out. “The operation has been successful. Now the danger is over. As soon as this was heard, tears flowed from Mrs. Sharma’s eyes. He thanked with folded hands—to the doctor, to God, and perhaps even to the part of himself that was breaking down and becoming better today.

Priya was kept in the ICU. When he came to his senses, he opened his eyes. Mrs. Sharma gently took his hand. “Daughter-in-law…” There was no harshness in his voice. Priya had tears in her eyes. “Mom… I thought I wouldn’t be able to get up in the morning. ”

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Sharma said. “I blamed you without knowing it. Today I realized that taking care of the heart is more important than running the house. Priya gave a weak smile. Amit folded his hands together—”The three of us will go together.” ”

A few days later, Priya returned home. The atmosphere at home had changed. Morning cleaning would now be done on time and in sharing. Mrs. Sharma laid down the rules—well before work, rest if tired. He also called the women of the neighborhood and said, “Think of daughters before daughters-in-law.” ”

One evening, Priya made tea in the kitchen. Mrs. Sharma said, “Today I will make it. Priya laughed. Amit joked, “Now in our house, the time-table is made from the heart. ”

A few months later, Priya recovers completely. In the same room, where the blood-soaked sheet had once frightened everyone, there were now new curtains. Mrs. Sharma herself took out the old sheet and donated it. He said to himself, “That day taught us that discipline is not driven by a stick, but by empathy.

One day, the new daughter-in-law of the neighborhood slept late. Someone taunted. Mrs. Sharma interrupted—”First ask how things are. “Everyone fell silent. Priya saw this from a distance and her eyes filled with tears.

The story ended not with a great miracle, but with a small habit—the habit of asking. It was no longer a crime to sleep in that house until 10 o’clock, and it was not a compulsion to get up at 5 o’clock. There was a rule—human first, then work. This was the lesson that a blood-stained sheet taught everyone, and which made a family stronger by saving it from breaking up.