It’s been six months since Adi left us. Six months of silence where his laughter once filled our home. Some days I find myself lost in the memories of my pregnancy with him—the joy, the music, the little moments that belonged only to us. And then reality hits, leaving behind a void words can’t fill. Yet, in every prayer and every song, I still feel his presence, reminding me that our bond will always remain.
“This Rakhi felt so empty without you, Adi. Mamba placed her rakhi at the temple instead of tying it on your wrist, and my heart broke all over again. You were supposed to be here — for her, for us — but now I can only hope you’re watching over your sisters from wherever you are.”
Adu Baby, It’s been five months since you left us. Not a moment passes by when I don’t think of you. I miss you so much, can’t explain in mere words! You know what? Mamba has completely changed her room. We sold the bed, the table, everything. Since you left, she couldn’t bear to be …
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 quiet morning by the sea, the breeze, the sand, and Adi’s laughter echoing through it all. In this letter, I hold on to one of our simplest, happiest memories—one that still gives me strength today.
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 …