“Mamba turned 18 last week—a milestone she once dreamed of celebrating in a big way. But this year was different. With your absence, her priorities changed, and all she wanted was a quiet day. I tried to make it special for her, knowing that’s what you’d have wanted too. Through the cakes, the laughter, the shopping, we kept talking about you. You were there in every moment, just not in the way we wished.”
“Leaving our old home felt like losing Adi all over again. Every corner held his laughter, his footsteps, his presence. In this new home, I place his red chair on the balcony and imagine him there—watching, smiling, still with us.”
“This year, all we had were the memories—of every birthday we celebrated with you, every little joy you brought into our lives. Still, I baked a cake for you, because your birthday will always be a blessing we cherish, no matter what.”
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.
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 …
Hi Adu Baby, A few days ago, we went to watch Sitare Zameen Par, Aamir Khan’s new film. I didn’t really know what it was about, but Deta and Mamba were keen, so I went along. I’m so glad I did. Throughout the movie, I kept thinking of you. I couldn’t hold back my tears. …
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, …