Since giving birth, I moved to my in-laws’ house so my mother-in-law could help take care of the baby. But after 15 days of staying there, every night my mother-in-law would sneak out in the middle of the night. Curious, I secretly followed her and was shocked by what I saw…
When baby Rohan was born, my life took a new turn. After the hardships of living in our small apartment in Mumbai, my husband and I decided to move back to my mother-in-law’s house in Malad for a while. The main reason was so that my mother-in-law could easily take care of the baby, and also to save money during these difficult economic times.

My in-laws’ house was an old three-story townhouse located deep in a quiet alley. My mother-in-law, Mātā Sushila, had been a widow for many years. She lived frugally, her whole life focused on her children. To me, she was an exemplary mother-in-law, though somewhat reserved.

But that peace began to crack with a strange phenomenon occurring at night.

The first night, when Rohan was crying, I was carrying him around the room and heard the heavy iron gate on the ground floor open. Through the window, under the yellowish streetlights, I saw the figure of Mātā Sushila. She was wearing a dark salwar kamees, her head covered with a dupatta, silently hurrying towards the end of the alley.

I thought she was going to buy medicine or something, and didn’t pay much attention. But then the second night, the third… precisely at eleven o’clock at night, she would sneak out of the house. And she wouldn’t return until three in the morning. Four hours each night.

Curiosity turned into fear. Every morning she was tired, with dark circles under her eyes. Especially the strange smell that lingered on her every morning – a pungent, foul odor mixed with the smell of disinfectant. My mind conjured up all sorts of terrifying scenarios: was she a gambling addict? Participating in a strange religious ritual? Or a secret affair?

By the tenth night, I couldn’t take it anymore. My husband, Arjun, a software engineer, would come home from work and sleep like a log, completely unaware of anything. I tried to subtly ask her, “Mātā ji, you look very tired lately. Did you sleep well last night?”

She startled, dropping her… her betel quid: “No… no. I slept well. It’s probably just the weather.”

On the fifteenth night, I woke Arjun up and told him everything. Just then, the iron gate creaked again. Arjun, bewildered, rushed out to follow his mother.

She didn’t go to the temple or the park. She walked quickly towards the notoriously chaotic Vashi wholesale market at night. Arjun followed, his heart pounding. She turned into a dark alley and stopped in front of an old, foul-smelling animal organ processing plant.

From a distance, Arjun saw his mother change clothes, put on rubber boots, and squat beside a pile of slimy cow and pig intestines and stomachs. Under the yellow light, her thin hands nimbly cleaned the intestines, which were full of feces and mucus. A large, obese man, the factory owner, shouted and threatened to deduct her wages. His mother could only bow her head, her voice trembling: “Yes… yes… I’m sorry, I’ll do it more carefully.”

Arjun stood there, numb. He called me, his voice choked with emotion: “Priya… Mom… Mom is working at the organ washing factory…”

At three in the morning, the work was finished. She received a 200 rupee note, carefully wrapped it, and tucked it into her breast pocket. When she arrived at the gate, Arjun emerged from the shadows.

“Mom.”

Mātā Sushila was startled, her face pale. Under her son’s pained gaze, she confessed everything. She pulled a savings passbook from her bra, in Arjun’s name, with 10 lakh rupees. Deposit date: 3 days ago.

“I know your company is having difficulties,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “The other day I overheard you on the phone… you owe someone 10 lakh rupees because of a failed stock market investment. You’re afraid Priya will worry and lose her milk… I heard everything.”

“I have some savings and I sold the last piece of jewelry your grandmother left you, I got 8 lakh rupees. I’m still short 2 lakh rupees… I don’t know where to get it. I’m afraid they’ll harm you, harm Rohan… So I took on extra work. People said I was too old, only this place would accept night shifts…”

“I’ve been working for a whole month… saving every penny, borrowing from my cousin in Pune, just to get the money I had the other day. I was planning to give it to you tomorrow… I’m sorry, I’ve embarrassed you, haven’t I?”

Arjun knelt at his mother’s feet, hugging her thin legs and sobbing uncontrollably. “Mother… I’m an unfilial son! I’m in debt, forcing you to go and have your intestines cleaned to pay it off!”

I stood on the balcony, listening to everything, tears streaming down my face. I ran down and hugged my mother-in-law. The foul smell now seemed to me like the boundless love of a mother, of silent sacrifice.

That night, Arjun confessed to me about the debt. We resolutely refused the 2 lakh from my mother-in-law’s hard-earned salary. Arjun promised to sell his high-end motorcycle to pay off the debt. We kept the money from selling her jewelry to take care of her health.

The next morning, I cooked a pot of fragrant chicken porridge. I ran out and took the broom from her hands.

“Mātā ji, from now on you mustn’t do anything anymore. Your job is to rest and play with the grandchildren. I’ve taken leave to stay home with you.”

I held her hands, calloused and cracked from chemicals.

“Mother, I’m sorry for doubting you. Thank you… for everything.”

Mātā Sushila smiled, a radiant, toothless smile.

“Daughter, don’t say that. I’m still well.”

Arjun stepped out and put his arm around his mother’s shoulder:
“No, Mom, you’ve done enough. From today, I’ll work twice as hard. I’ll repay you for these fifteen sleepless nights with the rest of my life.”

The early morning sun shone on the porch. In that light, his mother’s white hair seemed to glow. Fifteen nights she walked in the darkness of the Vashi market, all to bring light to her son’s future. And I understand that no darkness can obscure the light of a mother’s love. The story of that woman who walked in the night will forever be a lesson in sacrifice and gratitude in our hearts.