Parenting is never easy, but with a special child, it becomes a journey unlike any other. I’ve learned that acceptance, patience, consistency, and unconditional love are what truly create wonders. With Adi, progress wasn’t about milestones or charts — it was about celebrating the little steps, embracing the way he did things, and finding joy in every blessing, big or small.
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.
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.
“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.”
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.
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.