01/11/2025
Title: The Invisible Weight
Thirteen-year-old Aarav sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the glowing phone screen.
His friends’ group chat was filled with jokes, memes, and a photo of a classmate’s new sneakers — “Limited Edition.”
Someone tagged him:
“Aarav, when are you getting one? Oh wait, maybe next century ”
He forced a smiley in reply, even though his chest felt heavy.
At school, Aarav was the quiet one. He wasn’t bad at studies — just average, the kind of student teachers rarely remembered unless marks were due. His parents wanted him to “improve,” his friends wanted him to “fit in,” and he himself just wanted one thing — to breathe without feeling not enough.
Every morning began with a rush — school bus, homework not finished, and his mother shouting,
“You had time to scroll social media but not revise Science?”
He didn’t tell her he stayed online because it was the only place he felt seen.
But even there, likes and comments were silent competitions — who had better clothes, better marks, better vacations.
In class, the teacher announced a science project submission. Deadline: two days. Aarav’s group didn’t want him.
> “You’re too slow,” they said.
So he worked alone, spending his playtime building a rough model under a dim study lamp.
When he finally showed it, his teacher smiled,
“Good effort, Aarav. You actually tried.”
That small praise felt like sunlight after weeks of rain.
But just as he began to feel proud, he overheard someone whisper,
“Teacher’s pet.”
The laughter echoed longer than the compliment.
At home, his parents were loving but tired — meetings, calls, deadlines of their own. Dinner was silent. Everyone stared at screens — phones, laptops, TVs — a family connected by Wi-Fi, not by words.
One evening, Aarav’s father noticed him sitting outside, alone.
> “Rough day?”
Aarav nodded.
“I’m trying, Dad… but it’s like I’m running on a treadmill. Everyone’s faster. I can’t stop, but I can’t win either.”
His father paused — for once, the phone was not in his hand.
“You don’t have to win, son. You just have to keep walking — your path, your pace.”
That night, Aarav slept early — no screens, no noise.
The next day, he still faced teasing, deadlines, and the same noisy classroom.
But something small had changed.
He began to draw again — his favorite thing since childhood. He drew what words couldn’t say:
A little boy balancing books, a football, and a phone — under a sky of ticking clocks.
He titled it “The Invisible Weight.”
When the school displayed student art, his drawing hung on the wall.
Students stopped to look. Some nodded silently. A few smiled.
And for the first time, Aarav realized — he wasn’t the only one carrying that invisible weight.
Moral:
Every child today fights battles adults can’t always see — between expectations, comparison, and connection. What they need most isn’t perfection or pressure, but understanding, time, and the freedom to just be.
