"Vyan, don’t go there!” I called out gently, watching him with a smile as he held onto the edge of the bench in the park.
He had just started walking, his little feet taking slow, careful steps in the park.
Vyansh had become the apple of everyone’s eye, adored by family and friends alike.
He looked at me with bright eyes, a grin forming as he called out, "Mumma! Mumma! Papaa! Papaa!"
His voice was full of excitement, and his little hands reached out for support as he gobbled his way around.
I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Are you looking for Papa?” I asked, crouching down and holding out my hands.
“Come here, my boy! Let's go home and talk to your father!”
Vayu had been posted in a new city, far from us, but he made sure to call daily to check in and talk to his little boy.
Every evening, Vyansh would eagerly wait, his tiny fingers grabbing at the phone as soon as he heard his Papa’s voice.
Sometimes he'd babble a mix of “Pa-pa-pa” and giggles, making Vayu laugh on the other end.
It was hard to believe that our little boy was already 1.5 years old.
Time had flown by. Though Vayu couldn’t make it home for some of the big festivals, like Diwali and Holi, but he had been there for Vyansh’s first birthday—a day that felt so special.
I still remember that birthday vividly.
I was at my parents' home with Vyansh, who was happily playing, when the doorbell rang.
I opened it, and there he was—Vayu, standing with a warm smile, a gift in one hand, and love in his eyes. Both Vyansh and I were surprised beyond words.
“Papa!” Vyansh squealed, stumbling forward on his tiny legs, reaching out for Vayu. I couldn’t stop the tears from filling my eyes as I watched my son light up at the sight of his father.
Vayu knelt down, scooping Vyansh up and hugging him close. “Happy first birthday, little one,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on his head.
After a long day at the hospital, I was exhausted. But as soon as I stepped through inside the house, there was my little Vyansh, his face lighting up with excitement.
He saw me, his eyes widening, and before I could even set my bag down, he ran over and practically leaped into my arms.
And so I took him to the park and now we're heading back home since it was past 7 already.
As soon as I stepped inside, I overheard my in-laws on the phone, saying, "She's just about to come; we'll talk to her."
I could tell they were on a call with Vayu, and a smile crept onto my face.
I gently settled Vyansh in Papa's lap and took a seat next to my mother-in-law.
Just then, Vayu's familiar voice came through the phone.
"Hey, Sunflower!" he greeted, his tone instantly lighting up my day.
"Hey, Vayu! How are you?" I replied, keeping my voice casual since we had an audience.
I could sense my in-laws smiling at our conversation, proud of the little routines that kept us connected, even when miles apart.
Vayu asked about Vyansh, and Papa gladly updated him on all the mischief he’d been up to.
After a few minutes of lighthearted chat, Vayu’s tone turned serious. “Sunflower, I want to tell you something.” I nodded, bracing myself.
“We want you to complete your MS now,” he said, his words both surprising and touching.
“Vyansh is already 1.5 years old, and let’s not delay your dream any longer.”
I hesitated, my mind spinning with worries. “But Vayu, he’s just 1.5 years old and needs constant care. How can I...?”
Just then, my mother-in-law interjected softly, “Don’t worry about that, beta. We’re all here to take care of Vyansh.”
Maa’s voice held both reassurance and excitement.
Vayu continued, “I’ll be back in a month or two. Once I’m there, we’ll head to Delhi together, and you can start your MS.”
His words were calming but I was still not convinced.
“And Maa can stay with you in Delhi and help take care of Vyansh,” he said confidently, watching my hesitation.
“You’ll have everything you need, Sunflower, and you’ll be right there pursuing what you always dreamed of.”
"And your dream is too important for me!"
My mother-in-law chimed in with a reassuring smile, “We’re all ready to support you every step of the way, hai na Vyan?”
And this little son of mine literally nodded as if he understood everything.
I felt a wave of warmth and reassurance settle over me as I looked around at the people who believed in me, giving me the courage to take this step forward.
•°•°•°•°•°•
It had been almost a year since I’d come to Delhi to pursue my MS in psychiatry, yet every day without Vayu and Vyansh felt longer than the last.
Vyansh had grown into the most amazing little boy, so full of curiosity and joy.
Some days, Maa would bring him to Delhi, and other times, my mother would take over, each trying to give him a home filled with love while I was away.
Whenever I talked to Vayu, I could hear the ache in his voice, mirroring mine.
“You’re doing great, Sunflower,” he’d say, always trying to lighten the weight of the distance.
“Remember, we’re all so proud of you.”
“But it’s hard, Vayu,” I’d whisper, my voice barely holding back the ache of missing them both.
“I never imagined living without my boys would feel so… empty.”
He’d pause, a soft sigh escaping, before replying, “I know. But this is just one part of our story. This sacrifice—yours, mine, Vyansh’s—it’s going to make us stronger. Just a little longer, okay?”
I’d nod, even though he couldn’t see it, drawing strength from his words. “I just miss you both so much.”
There were countless nights when the silence of my room in Delhi felt unbearable, and I’d find myself in tears, missing the warmth of holding Vyansh in my arms.
The guilt weighed heavily; choosing my career over time with my son tore at me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
Some days, I’d question my decision entirely.
Am I being selfish? I’d wonder.
Am I missing out on moments I’ll never get back?
But in those low moments, a call or message from my family would remind me of the love and strength holding us all together.
My in-laws, always so caring, would assure me, “You’re doing this not just for yourself, but for Vyansh too. One day, he’ll see his mother as an example of determination.”
And Vayu—he had a way of grounding me.
“Sunflower,” he’d say softly, “Vyansh is growing up surrounded by love, and he’s proud of you. We all are. We’re right here with you, every step.”
Their words became my anchor, each one weaving a thread of resilience back into me.
Some nights, as I lay alone in Delhi, the guilt felt overwhelming, a weight pressing down that no comforting words seemed to lift.
I’d think of Vyansh and the time we’d spent apart, and a painful thought would creep in—I felt like I was failing as a mother.
I’d picture him growing up without me by his side, seeing milestones I wasn’t there to witness.
Sometimes, I’d sit with the phone in my hands, watching the videos my mom or my mother-in-law would send, with him toddling around, saying new words, discovering his world without me.
And as much as I tried to remind myself why I’d chosen this path, those doubts would still settle deep inside.
Is my dream worth it?
But then, during one of those moments, a call came from Vayu. He sensed my sadness instantly, his voice gentle.
“Sunflower, listen to me,” he said, his tone like a balm, “You’re building a future for all of us. And Vyansh will know that his mother loved him so deeply, she wanted to give him a reason to be proud.”
And every time my mother would hear the hesitation in my voice, she’d say, “Beta, you’re showing Vyansh that he can reach for his dreams too, just like his mother is. He’s not missing out on you—he’s gaining a role model.”
In those moments, I reminded myself why we were doing this.
And though the sacrifice was real for each of us, I knew that one day, we’d look back at this and be grateful—for the strength, love, and resilience that kept us together, even when miles apart.
2 years later
I clutched Vyansh’s tiny hand as we made our way through the airport, my heart pounding with excitement.
Where are we father son duo heading to?
Delhi!
To surprise my Sunflower and Vyansh ki mumma!
Yes, we were finally flying to Delhi, and I could already imagine Reya’s face when she saw us at her convocation.
And guess what?
She had topped in her entire college.
Can you believe it?
My Sunflower had worked so hard for this, and I wasn’t about to miss her big day.
Vyansh looked around wide-eyed, pointing at every plane that rolled by. “Papa, Pappa..!” he kept calling, his excitement contagious.
“Vyan..” I whispered, crouching down to his level. “We’re going to surprise Mumma, okay? She doesn’t know we’re coming yet!”
His eyes sparkled as he nodded, understanding just enough to mirror my excitement. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking back over the past year.
Reya had been away in Delhi, pouring everything into her MS, and we’d only seen her a handful of times. Each call we shared, she’d tell me how hard it was, how much she missed holding Vyansh.
And now, here we were. Finally, it was her moment.
As we were about to board the flight, my phone buzzed relentlessly as I glanced down, seeing a series of frantic messages from Reya lighting up the screen.
"Where are you taking my son?"
"Pick up my calls, Kashyap."
"Maa said you took Vyansh somewhere."
"Pick my FaceTime, asshole!"
I chuckled, knowing she must be pacing the floor, her brows furrowed and lips in that slight pout she always had when she was worried.
I tapped the FaceTime button, holding my breath, knowing the reaction I was about to get.
As soon as she picked up, her face filled the screen, eyes blazing with mock fury.
"Kashyap! Where are you?! And why do you have my son?"
“What do you mean by your son? He's mine too!”
I grinned, shifting the camera to show Vyansh gazing out the glass doors completely absorbed in the view.
"Relax, Sunflower. Vyansh and I are on an adventure."
Her expression softened just slightly, but her brow was still furrowed.
"Adventure? Vayu, his routine... what are you doing?"
“Just wait and watch, Sunflower! Okay now it's time for boarding, bye bye!” Saying so I disconnected the call before she could get any hint about our adventure.
“Alright, Vyan,” I said as we lined up to board. “Let’s go make Mumma proud.”
As we took our seats, Vyansh stayed surprisingly calm, his wide, curious eyes glued to the view outside.
The hum of the plane’s engines didn’t faze him; instead, he looked entranced by the wings stretching out against the runway.
I leaned down, brushing a hand over his soft hair. “You want to sleep, Vyan?”
He tilted his head, those doe eyes shifting up to me. “Papa, Mumma?” he asked, his little voice filled with innocence.
I smiled, nodding. “Yes, little one. We’re going to see Mumma. And we’re going to surprise her, remember?”
He grinned and went back to staring out the window, kicking his little legs in excitement. It struck me how much he’d grown—how he was old enough now to understand that he was doing something special for his mom.
As the plane lifted off, he grabbed my arm with both hands, holding on tight. I whispered comforting words, and he quickly relaxed, mesmerized again by the clouds outside.
This kid, my son, was full of surprises. Just like his mother.
After an hour and a half in the air, we finally landed in Delhi.
Vyansh clapped his hands, excited to be somewhere new, though he probably didn’t fully understand what was happening.
We made our way through the airport, his tiny hand holding onto mine as he took in the bustling crowd with wide-eyed wonder.
Once we stepped outside, I hailed a cab. I buckled Vyansh in, his little legs dangling as he looked around, still filled with excitement.
"Papa, Mumma here?" he asked, almost whispering, as if he was savoring the surprise.
"Yes, buddy. We’re almost there," I replied, smiling as I ran my hand over his hair.
The cab ride was quiet, with Vyansh leaning against me, his head resting on my shoulder, tired but too excited to sleep.
I could feel his steady breathing as he fought to keep his eyes open.
Finally, we stood in front of her door. I glanced down at Vyansh, who clutched my finger with his tiny hands, his eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of excitement.
“We’re just a bell away, Vyan,” I whispered, lifting him up so he could reach the doorbell.
“Go ahead.”
He stretched out his small finger and pressed it once. Then, just like any other curious child, he grinned and pressed it a few more times, each chime filling the quiet hallway with playful echoes.
I chuckled softly, watching his pure joy at something as simple as a doorbell.
Just then, we heard footsteps approaching from the other side.
My heart pounded, knowing that any second now, Reya would open that door, completely unaware that her two boys had come to surprise her.
And the door swung open, and there she was—my Sunflower, standing there with pure shock lighting up her eyes.
For a moment, she seemed frozen, taking it all in.
But before either of us could speak, Vyansh squealed, “Mummaaaaa!” and wriggled out of my arms, launching himself straight toward her.
She spread her arms, catching him as he threw his tiny arms around her neck, his face nestled against her shoulder.
Her eyes, still wide, met mine over his little head, filled with joy and disbelief.
“You... you both…this was the adventure?” she whispered, voice choked with emotion.
“Of course, how come you think we can go somewhere without you?” I replied, a smile breaking across my face.
“And we didn't want to miss your big day for anything.”
As we stepped inside, I saw Vyansh, who nestled into her arms and drifted off instantly, as if her embrace was the peace he'd been searching for all along.
His tiny fingers gripped her kurta, his cheek pressed gently against her shoulder, and he let out a soft, contented sigh.
Reya looked down at him, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead, and her eyes shimmered with quiet happiness.
She held him close, swaying slightly, almost instinctively, as if no time had passed since she’d last cradled him like this.
She looked up at me with a gentle smile. “He must’ve missed me,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with emotion.
“We both did,” I replied, stepping closer and wrapping my arm around them both.
After three long years of juggling dreams and distance, we stood there, arms wrapped around each other, with Vyansh tucked safely between us.
It felt surreal, the weight of every sacrifice we’d made for our careers and for each other finally melting away in that moment.
Reya pulled back slightly, and looked at me, her eyes brimming with gratitude and love.
“We made it, Vayu. Our every dream..we did it all together.” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I pulled her closer, my voice barely a whisper, “Three years apart, fighting for dreams... but every part of me belongs right here, with you and Vyansh. You’re my home, Reya. Always have been, always will be.”
.
.
.
To be continued.
Second last chapter of the book!
Do vote and comment if you like my writings.
Belated Happy Diwali!
Love you!
Write a comment ...