"Wake up, we have to go back

home," she was very happy that day because last night was not that good

for her. She had to sleep away from her parents, and she never liked it. But

now she was going back home, so she was happy. Her Chacha was here for her and

her brother to take them back home.

As she reached her home, she saw her

maternal uncle and was even more excited. She shouted, "Mamaji, how are

you? Are we going to meet di and mamiji? Did they also come with you?"

She received only silence in reply.

When she looked around, she saw a lot of people sitting there. She was confused

but happy. She always liked crowds but was still unaware of what was going on.

Then, she was taken inside. The scene

in the room made her even more confused. A 5-year-old girl had never seen that

scene before in her life. That girl had never seen that scene ever before.

Her father was lying on the ground

with a white cover all over his body, except his face. Cotton was in his nose,

and his eyes were closed. She wondered how he could sleep in so much noise

around him with such calmness on his face. And what was that cotton doing in

his nose? She had a lot of questions, and the only answer she could get was

silence. Everything she saw was only making her confused. But the only thing

that made her forget all that was happening around her was seeing her mother

cry, surrounded by a lot of other ladies, when she went to the other room.

She could handle everything except this. Seeing her mother cry was never

acceptable to her. As soon as she saw that, she started to cry, holding her mother

around her small hand. She just wanted to calm her down. She asked in her

sobbing voice, "Why are you crying, maa? Who made you cry? Please don't cry."

Her Bua came and took her near her father. She was scared to see him like that.

She wanted to wake him up and ask him what was happening, why was

he sleeping, and why was everyone around her sitting with sad faces and eyes

filled with tears. Her Bua came to her that day and said only one line that

she could never ever forget, "Baccha, from today you will never be able to

see your father. You will never be able to have a conversation with him.

You can still talk to him whenever you want to. He wouldn't reply but will hear

every word you speak to him and will always take care of you."

She did not know how and why, but

those words gave her all the answers that could calm her down. Those words

always stayed in her mind. She saw everything that was happening while staying

beside her bua in silence. Her eyes were wide open, with a tornado of emotions

inside her, but her mouth remained shut, filled with the silence of acceptance

for the moments she was experiencing.

It's been years since her father passed away. A lot has happened with her between these years and she accepted everything the same way she accepted that day with silence and calmness.

And with all this she also accepted the fact that she has to grow up to be a mature girl.

Following her daily routine, today she came home from school and unlocked the door. There was a sofa near the entrance, and she took off her heavy bag, which weighed more than she did.

Glancing around her house with a peaceful quietness, the only company was the breeze from the back window welcoming her home. After changing her clothes and taking a shower, she went to the kitchen for lunch. Everything was prepared for her, and she fixed her plate before heading to the drawing room to eat. Everything was good, just as she liked it, except for the absence of someone beside her to share the meal with.

In the quiet corners of her life, she was a girl who hates the taste for solitary meals, a sentiment woven into the fabric of her routine. The simple act of eating by herself makes her feel a bit sad because she wishes she had someone to share the experience with. Even at home, where you'd expect comfort, she still feels alone. When she has lunch, it's like talking to no one, and her days, though full of things to talk about, are missing someone to listen to.

Yet, she found solace in the anticipation that, like every evening, her mother would return from work, and her grandpa would be back from the shop, ready to engage in conversations, as he always did.

After her father, her grandpa was the one who expressed love openly, giving her the nickname 'pagali,' meaning mad. In front of him, she could be childish and immature, just like any grandparent's love for their child.

Today, she was very excited because her summer vacation was starting tomorrow, and she would be going to her maternal uncle's house—the best days of every year.

The prospect of not being alone at home after a few months added to her excitement. She recently received the news that her entire family was soon going to meet a girl for her uncle, with the intention of marriage.

She had always believed that her uncle's marriage could bring a positive change for her, providing her with companionship when she returned home and that was going to happen, every day she thought of the same things wondering what she will do when she will come and how she will spend her noon talking to her about the whole school things and most importantly how she is going to have a great friend in her aunt.

All she knew was that she won't have to eat that lunch alone, thinking about all those things she finished her lunch and went to get ready for her tuition classes.

"Maa... Maa!" she called out eagerly, her voice filled with anticipation. She knew that returning from her tuition classes meant her mother would also be back from school, and that was always a comforting thought. Today, her excitement bubbled over as she began packing her bags, preparing for her trip to her maternal home the next day.

Her mother called out, asking if she wanted something to eat before gathering the clothes she wanted to take. Brimming with excitement for the holidays, she nearly emptied her entire wardrobe, tossing clothes into the suitcase with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Her mother entered the room and, seeing the pile of clothes, asked, "What is all this?" With a cheerful grin and innocent delight, she replied, "Clothes!"

Her mother shook her head and said, "That much! You're not staying there for a whole year. Pack just for a week."

Confused, she looked up and asked, "A week? But why only a week? Don't we have a whole month off? Aren't we going to stay there for the whole holiday?"

Her mother smiled knowingly and replied, "Don't you remember? We have to meet your youngest aunt-to-be and see if she is a good match for your uncle."

She didn’t say a word, but the wide smile on her face said it all— she was thrilled at the thought of her soon-to-be aunt joining the family and the joyful days ahead at her maternal house. She knew those days would be filled with happiness and warmth, and she was certain she was about to have some good days......

The next day...

"Wake up! You need to get ready fast, or we’ll miss the train," her mother urged early in the morning, shaking her gently.

Today was the day she had been eagerly waiting for, the one morning she never minded waking up early. The coming month promised the best days of her year, filled with laughter, family, and adventure. Brimming with excitement and happiness, she quickly got ready for the train, her heart racing with anticipation for the joyful days ahead.

Her mother had packed some of her favorite snacks, and they began their journey with her settled in her favorite window seat. The rhythmic motion of the train and the view outside filled her with peace and joy, but it was more than the scenery—it was the thought of being surrounded by people who truly loved her. People who treated her like she mattered, who lit up at the sight of her. Though she always had one constant in her life—her mother—there was something her mother never openly showed: affection.

Her mother's way of loving was quiet, unspoken, not expressed through words or gestures. She didn’t believe in grand displays of love. It wasn’t her love language. So, for this girl, receiving open expressions of love from others was rare—so rare that when she gets, it didn’t just make her happy; it overwhelmed her.