Just four songs — that’s all Adi wanted, day after day. They played on loop, filling our little apartment with his laughter and happy little dances. Even now, when I hear them, I’m right back there… in those strange, uncertain days, holding on to the love and small joys that kept us going.
Alone in a new city. Two kids. A world locked down. And yet, somewhere between the chaos and the quiet, I found strength I didn’t know I had. This is a story of surviving — and learning to live fully, even when the world outside felt like it was falling apart.
We had just settled into life in Singapore and had begun to truly enjoy it. It was clean, safe, and incredibly convenient. I could take Adi out in his pram without worry, and my daughter moved around the city on her own or with friends. Life had found its rhythm—and we were happy. But soon, …
The last time we flew, you were running around the airport with endless curiosity, headphones on, lost in your music — calm and content, unlike any other child. Little did I know that would be our final journey together. Every mile since has carried the quiet ache of your absence.
Writing to you keeps me going, Adi. On the good days and the hard ones, these letters are my way of staying close to you. In my dreams, in my heart—you are always there.
A fever, a silence, and a fight we weren’t ready for. Our happy moments from the trip didn’t last long. By the time we got home, Adi had a slight fever. I gave him paracetamol, and it came down. He was a bit cranky but seemed better after some rest. I kept monitoring him and …
From Singapore, travelling to Indonesia was so easy. A short ferry ride of about 45–60 minutes, and we’d be in another country. In the first weekend of May 2019, we decided to go to Bintan, Indonesia. We had booked our stay at the beautiful Angsana Resort. The ferry ride was smooth, and both my kids …
Adi was doing fairly well with regular medications, therapy, and check-ups. There were good days when he didn’t have any seizures, and then there were those other days — the ones with the absence seizures. During those moments, we felt so helpless. There was nothing we could do except wait for it to pass. The …
Adi was now a very active toddler. My days were spent taking care of him and managing the home. On the surface, everything seemed okay. But in my mind, thoughts about his health and future never stopped. They kept me awake most nights. There were times I’d lie frozen in fear, overwhelmed by the unknown. …
Thankfully, the medications began to work, and the seizures were under control to a large extent. It pained me every single day to give him those medicines. But I kept telling myself—at least they’re working, and for that, I should be grateful. Soon after, we moved to Singapore. Life settled into a routine. Sid went …