Have you ever finished a project, handed over your best work, and then found yourself chasing the payment you were promised? If yes, you already know the frustration behind those dreaded words: “I’ll pay tomorrow.” They sound harmless in the moment, but for many professionals, they mark the beginning of endless delays, polite reminders, and mounting stress. I know this because I’ve been living that exact nightmare for the past two months.
The deal was straightforward: a project worth ₹30,000, split into two payments—half upfront, half on completion. The first 15K came in smoothly. The second half? That’s where the drama began.
The story began when a family friend told us about a woman who had lost her husband a few years ago. Among his belongings, she had discovered a diary filled with his handwritten poems. Both she and her daughter wanted to preserve his words and put them together in the form of a book. It was a project that carried a lot of emotional weight, and we agreed to help.
I took on the task of typing out 60 of those poems, while my mother worked with me to edit and compile them into a manuscript. It was painstaking, detailed work—every word, every line carried meaning, and we wanted to make sure the final product honored the man’s voice.
But working with the client—let’s call her Mrs. M—wasn’t easy. She was never on time for meetings, often arriving late or rescheduling at the last minute. Still, we accommodated her because the project mattered to her, and we wanted to see it through. Despite the delays and the extra effort, the book finally came together, ready for her and her daughter to hold onto as a memory of the man they had lost.
And then came the payment.
The agreement was clear: ₹30,000 for the project, with half paid upfront and the other half after completion. She had already paid the first 15K. But when it was time to settle the balance, Mrs. M hesitated. She asked for a reduction, and though the work had been completed in full, my mother, trying to be fair and considerate, agreed to lower the final payment to 13K.
My mother is the kind of person who sees the good in people, who tolerates far more than most would. But even she began to lose her cool. Still, being who she is, she didn’t want to sound disrespectful. So, I took it upon myself to write to her. Maybe I came off as crude, but enough was enough. And honestly, was this woman really calling ₹13,000 “too much”? Did she think tossing that excuse at us would make us back down, maybe even reduce the amount out of sheer frustration?
Mrs. M assured us she would transfer it within two days. Two days came and went. Then came a week, then two. Each time I reached out, the promise was the same: “Tomorrow.” But tomorrow never arrived. Instead, there was always a new reason—unfortunate incidents in the family, unexpected travel, “your charges are high, I should have checked before,” and the latest, “I’ll try, but not today, maybe tomorrow.”
And that’s when the question hit me harder: why do so many people treat payments as optional, when they would never dream of treating the work the same way?
Because while excuses keep piling up, bills don’t wait. And as much as one might empathize with someone’s personal struggles, it doesn’t erase the fact that work was done, time was invested, and promises were made. When a professional gives their word, they are expected to deliver—why should it be any different when it comes to payment?
That’s the part that stings the most. It isn’t just about money; it’s about respect. Respect for the effort that went into typing out 60 poems, editing them with care, and shaping them into a book that a family could hold onto as a legacy. Respect for showing up on time, honoring commitments, and valuing someone else’s labor.
And yet, here I was, left reminding, negotiating, waiting, and being told “tomorrow.”
Late payments don’t just hurt your bank balance.
They hurt your trust.
They kill your motivation.
They make you think twice before going the extra mile the next time.
Because once you’ve chased money you’ve already earned, you realize—this isn’t about money at all. It’s about respect.
And you ask yourself: why should anyone have to fight this hard for something so basic?
You wouldn’t walk out of a store without paying.
You wouldn’t eat at a restaurant and say, “I’ll settle tomorrow.”
Then why is it okay to treat a professional’s work like that?
This is what late payments do.
They don’t just delay money.
They insult effort.
They question credibility.
They take away dignity.
Excuses don’t make up for the time and energy already spent.
And honestly, it makes you angry. Do you then wait patiently till tomorrow, or tell them to pay whatever they can and close the chapter without being rude and breaking the relationship?
Work done deserves payment.
On time.
Every time. Anything less is disrespect.
And let’s be honest—how many times have you sat there, staring at your phone, wondering, “Should I remind them again? Or will I just sound desperate?”
Why should we feel guilty for asking what’s already ours?
The truth is, every delayed payment plants a seed of anger.
A seed that grows into frustration, into resentment, into a silent promise: “Next time, I won’t say yes so easily.” You didn’t just hold back ₹13,000. You held back respect.
Because why should I? Why should any professional keep giving their best, only to be treated like a charity case waiting for mercy? Work done is work done. The meter has already run. Yet somehow, asking for payment makes us feel like beggars instead of professionals.
And tell me—why is it that the same client who begs for urgent delivery suddenly disappears when it’s time to deliver the money? Where does that urgency vanish? Where do all those “please, please, can you finish this tonight?” messages go when it’s their turn to keep the promise?
We shouldn’t have to keep chasing. We shouldn’t have to write reminders that sound like threats. We shouldn’t have to dilute our anger just to “maintain professionalism.” Because if professionalism only works one way—ours—it’s not professionalism at all. It’s exploitation.
So, the next time you think about delaying a payment, ask yourself this: Would you like to be treated this way?
It’s never just the bank balance that suffers. It’s the human being behind it.