The Story is written by Banu Priya Chinivasan.

I was sitting in a cosy chair, sipping a cup of coffee in a cafe in my neighbourhood. As I savoured my coffee, I heard an argument. I turned around and noticed a young girl with a sophisticated look arguing with her mother. The argument was so fierce that I could hear them quarrelling over issues related to her lifestyle. She reminded me of who I used to be a few decades ago.

    Everything under the sun seems normal until the world comes to a halt; that's when we might call it doomsday. For humans filled with love and compassion, doomsday isn't just the end of the world; it's also the loss of someone precious. However, for teenagers, the word 'precious' is meaningless until they realize the value of people in their lives, which can't be replaced by fancy gadgets or lifestyles meant to impress others.

As a teenager, I used to compare myself with other girls who studied with me. I admired the way they enjoyed luxurious lifestyles, owning the latest smartphones, branded clothes, and designer shoes. I grew bitter because I couldn't afford those things. Coming from a middle-class family, I often blamed my parents for not being able to buy me the things I wished for. I even yearned to vanish from this world instead of living in desperation.

I decided to end my misery by getting a part-time job to earn extra income. However, my parents were traditional and didn't allow me to work while still in school. For them, my sole focus should be on my studies. Consequently, I had no choice but to continue living a middle-class lifestyle. Regardless, I was determined to enjoy my teenage years and planned to apply for further studies away from my parents once I graduated from high school.

However, I never anticipated that doomsday would arrive in my life. I received a call from a policeman informing me that my parents had been involved in a car accident. While I was on the phone with him, my mind replayed the events that had occurred just minutes before. It was partly my fault for repeatedly trying to contact my parents to pick me up promptly after my extracurricular activity. I usually used public transportation, but that day my mother insisted on taking me to the hospital to visit my uncle, who was battling cancer. Despite my reluctance, my parents convinced me that supporting the sick was a norm and would aid their recovery. It didn't make sense to me, especially since I left the activity early to avoid my friends seeing my parents' old car when they came to pick me up.

After a while, I realized I was still on the phone and asked the police officer where my parents were. I rushed to the hospital and, upon seeing them in the intensive care unit, connected to tubes and intubation, I felt my world come to a standstill. At that moment, I understood that nothing in the world was more precious than my parents. I knelt and prayed for their recovery, even offering my own life in exchange for theirs. I couldn't fathom living without them.

It seemed my prayer was answered when a nurse informed me that my parents were medically stable and would be transferred to a regular ward the following day. I promised myself that I would never take my parents' love for granted and that I would care for them just as they had cared for me. They might not have provided me with extravagant luxuries, but they had given me a life filled with the essentials for comfortable living: shelter, protection, and love – things more valuable than anything else on Earth.

Now, I am a wise mother of five children, and I always remind them of the most precious aspects of life. I teach them to be grateful for what they have.