The Battery of a Mobile Phone and the Life of Parents
Dr Shabir Choudhry, London.
05 October 2026.
One day, a father said to his son:
“Son, I know that your mobile phone has become one of the most important things in your life.
You look at it before you go to sleep. If you wake up during the night, you reach for it. And when you open your eyes in the morning, your phone is often the first thing you look at.
You check on your friends, talk to them, laugh with them and share jokes and moments of amusement.
And when your phone’s battery falls to twenty per cent, you become anxious. You start looking for a charger. You cannot truly relax until that little battery symbol tells you that your phone is back to one hundred per cent.
But, my son, there is something I want you to think about.
You were born long before that mobile phone entered your life.
Your mother and I brought you into this world, raised you with love, worked hard for you, sacrificed our own comforts and gave up many of our wishes so that we could fulfil yours.
Have you ever stopped to think about your father’s battery?
My eyes are now running on perhaps twenty per cent. I need an operation.
Have you noticed the wrinkles on your mother’s face? They have become deeper with the passing years. Have you noticed that her health is no longer what it once was?
You worry when your phone’s battery is low.
But have you ever worried about ours?
If you lose your mobile phone, you can walk into a shop tomorrow and buy a new one—perhaps an even newer and better model.
But when your mother and I leave this world, you will not find us in any shop. There will be no replacement model. No new version. No second chance.
So, my son, charge your phone before its battery runs out.
But before your parents’ batteries run out, spend some time with them too.
We do not need your money. We do not need expensive gifts.
· We need your time.
· We need your attention.
· We need your love.
So, son, make time for your mobile phone if you wish—but make some time for us as well.
Because one day, you may finally realise how precious we were to you.
But by then, we may no longer be there for you.”
The son remained silent for a moment and then replied:
“You only know how to complain. Everyone has to die. Your own father died too.”
The father fell silent.
His eyes filled with tears.
After a moment, he said sadly:
“You are right, son. My father died too.
But perhaps I have understood something today that I should have understood much earlier.
We often realise the true value of our parents only after they are no longer there.
And by then, no amount of regret can bring them back.”
He said nothing more.
The room fell silent.
And in the darkness, only the faint light of the mobile phone charger remained.
