I don’t know if words can fully express the whirlwind of emotions I’ve been carrying, but I’ll do my earnest best to try....
As a wife, I still find myself wondering whether I did enough, whether there was something more I could have done. In my heart, I know we faced our battles side by side, believing we would make it through together. I never imagined the storm that would follow, or how unprepared I would feel for its cruelty. Life has its bitterness, I always knew that, but I never expected to taste it so early, nor so deeply.
As a mother, I know I have to keep standing and fighting, not for recognition, but for the two young souls who look to me even for the smallest bit of strength. They try to hide their emotions so I won’t crumble, not realizing that their honesty, their willingness to share what they feel, is what actually keeps me going. No mother ever imagines her children facing such an immense, irreversible loss at such a tender age. Yet here they are, learning life’s hardest lessons far too soon.
Still, I feel a deep sense of gratitude that together we raised two young men who make us proud every day. Wherever you are, I know your heart swells with pride at who they are becoming. I see so much of us in them, the way they love, the way they carry themselves, the way they keep moving forward. We miss your presence, your touch, your voice… but somewhere within, we know you’re here, watching over us, loving us in ways we can still feel. And I know this isn’t easy for you either.
When Chinchin clung to me and quietly confessed how deeply he felt your absence, the first person I reached out to was Baapli, his ‘Mini Dad,’ as he lovingly calls him.
What followed was an impulsive, late-night decision for a small reunion, one we realized we desperately needed. We didn’t think twice about the ticket prices; all that mattered was being there for Chinchin. Behind the scenes, there was so much to sort out, getting permission to meet him, understanding the protocols, making sure nothing interfered with the performance or the performers. But despite the delays and last-minute adjustments, we made it. Our gratitude to the Band Family is endless. Thanking them, from the depths of our hearts, for everything they did for us.
And now, hold tight, because I’m going to take you through the whirlwind of surprises and emotions that unfolded that day…
As life unfurls its pages, I stand at the threshold of a new chapter;
one no heart volunteers to read,
yet each line insists on turning itself over.
In the storm of responsibilities, choices blur,
yet grace finds me in the presence of souls so gentle and bright,
lifting me, helping me rebuild the quiet joys of a sailor long gone.
Flooded with memories, from booking tickets to wandering new places hand in hand;
I searched for strength in the only role I knew I must hold:
a mother’s anchor.
My heart refused to move even an inch,
but my mind, trembling, pushed forth,
a small flinch toward courage.
Through tears, a vision emerged, two jewels in my world,
their excitement, Chinchin’s bubbling joy,
and the steady warmth of an elder brother.
Minute by minute, my pulse counted its way to the moment he would appear.
And then, he came running, arms flung wide, voice cracking with love:
“I love you, Mom, for being here with me.”
All he needed was laughter, and a spark of cheer,
something to show his friends that we belonged to each other
in the softest and strongest ways.
His friends refused to call me “aunt,”
asking instead if I could be their friend;
someone to laugh with, to be silly with, a safe place to land.
And in their trust, I felt my heart open again.
Their giggles roared, their chatter never paused;
and underneath it all, I heard the longing: for someone to whisper,
“Don’t worry, I’m here.”
Day drifted by in a whirl,
walking the markets with the kids,
rediscovering the joy of being childlike beside them,
weaving through rehearsals,
adjusting, readjusting,
living between stages and trucks,
loading, unloading,
following cues, swallowing stress.
They were warriors of multitasking that night.
Blistered feet, aching bodies,
none of it mattered
when I saw the stamina they held for each other.
We adults might crumble,
but they, they stood firm, never letting one fall.
As evening settled,
my heartbeat grew wild.
It was time.....time for the brothers to reunite.
Camera, direction, emotion, everything aligned.
And there he was:
the big brother,
the Mini Dad,
the everything he had ached for.
With a burst of pure joy,
he leapt into his arms,
clinging, pleading,
begging him not to leave.
His voice raw, trembling,
carried the weight of all he had held inside,
a desperation not to let go again.
Rules stood firm; he understood.
But promises rose softly between them to meet again before breakfast,
to stay by each other’s side until the flights carried us apart.
The day unfolded with promises made; soft vows held close to the heart.
He stood waiting, bright-eyed,
ready to welcome his little brother
at the breakfast table.
Time was brief,
but in those borrowed minutes
they laughed,
they talked,
they stretched every second
as if trying to hold the morning still.
He glowed with pride
whenever someone asked
who this younger brother was;
yet behind that proud smile
his eyes kept drifting to the clock,
knowing each moment was slipping away,
precious beyond measure.
Soon, the world called again, it was time for the performers to rise.
Off they went,
one back to the stage,
one back to the audience’s heartbeat.
And there he sat, amazed at how beautifully Chinchin had grown,
how seamlessly he had become part of the band’s spirit.
He cheered from the crowd,
holding on to every note,
every movement,
until the curtains finally drew closed.
And then came the part that never gets easier,
the quiet ache settling back into our bones.
It was time for the flights to take off,
yet our hearts refused to move,
unwilling to let the moment end.
Letting him go felt like tearing open a wound
that had only just begun to heal.
Tears slipped through despite every effort,
emotions too heavy to hide.
I tried to stand strong;
but the truth is,
it was their love, their presence,
that held me upright.
We counted the days even before they began,
promising ourselves that the next meeting
would arrive sooner than the sorrow could settle.
Carrying memories that washed over us
again and again,
we finally took our seats,
hearts overflowing with this emotional deluge,
yet grateful for every moment that had been ours.
