Heal With Rabia | Healing After Loss, Single Parenting & Self Growth

  “A parent can love a child completely and still fail to be present every time. Sometimes, love is not measured by being there for every moment, but by never stopping yourself from trying.” The message came at 9:42 on Wednesday morning, just as Arjun was entering the conference room for an important client presentation. He glanced at his phone before putting it face down on the table. It was from Ananya's school. Parents' Activity – 10:30 a.m. School Auditorium. Please ensure one parent is present. He had promised her the previous night that he would come. He had even checked the distance between his office and the school twice, convincing himself that if the meeting ended on time, he could make it. But the client had arrived early, his manager had asked him to lead the presentation, and now there were twelve people sitting around the table waiting for him to begin. He thought about stepping out and calling his manager, but the presentation was already underway. For the next...

  “Sometimes life doesn't ask you to choose between two important things. It simply puts both in your hands and waits to see how you manage.” The phone began ringing at 8:17 on a Tuesday morning, just as Arjun was trying to convince Vivaan to finish his milk. He glanced at the screen and immediately recognised his manager's number. For a moment, he considered letting it ring. His shirt was still unbuttoned at the collar, Ananya's school bag was lying open on the sofa, and Vivaan had managed to smear milk across his own cheek. But work had been waiting for him for weeks, and Arjun knew he couldn't keep using grief as an explanation forever. He wiped Vivaan's face with a towel, picked up the phone and answered. "Good morning, sir." His manager's voice was direct. "Arjun, I need you in the office early today. The client meeting has been moved to eleven." Arjun looked at the clock. It was already past eight. Normally, that would have meant twen...

  "Sometimes the greatest acts of love are the ones no one notices—until the person doing them is no longer there." Three weeks had passed since Meera's funeral, but mornings inside the house still refused to believe she was gone. Outside, life had already resumed its familiar rhythm. The school bus arrived at the same time every day, office traffic filled the roads, and neighbours exchanged cheerful greetings over cups of tea. Inside Arjun's home, however, every sunrise felt like another examination he had never prepared for. The alarm rang at 5:30 a.m., but Arjun had already been awake for several minutes. Sleep had become light and uncertain ever since Meera left. He quietly switched off the alarm before it could wake the children and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. His eyes wandered across the room until they rested on Meera's framed photograph. She was smiling exactly the way she always did—calm, effortless, as though she knew everything would someho...

Chapter 13: The First Night Without Meera The house was full all day with  Relatives,  Neighbors,  Friends,  Voices,  Prayers,  Sympathy,  Tea, cups,  Footsteps,  Questions etc.  Silence that never truly became silence because people were always around. But by evening, everyone had left o ne by one.  The house that once felt small suddenly felt enormous,  Empty,  Unfamiliar.  Arjun stood in the middle of the living room.  For the first time since the hospital...  there was nothing left to do.  Nowhere left to go.  No formalities to complete.  No people to attend.  Just home w ithout Meera. A pink hair clip still rested on the side table.  Her coffee mug was near the kitchen sink.  Half a packet of biscuits she liked remained open.  Her shawl still hung behind the bedroom door.  Every corner carried her presence.  Every object carried her absence. "Mumma kab...

  Chapter 12: The Day Everything Changed The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and uncertainty.  White walls,  White lights,  White silence.  Everything looked clean.  Everything felt broken. Arjun sat on a steel bench outside the emergency room.  Eight-month-old Vivaan slept in his lap, unaware of the chaos surrounding him.  His tiny fingers were wrapped around Arjun's shirt. Ananya (six year old) sat beside him.  Pink frock.  Two neatly braided ponytails.  Holding her mother's dupatta tightly in her hands. "Mumma kab bahar aayengi?",  She had asked the question four times already. Arjun had given four different answers.  None of them true.  Because he didn't know the truth himself. A few hours earlier, Meera had complained of difficulty breathing, t hen dizziness, t hen panic.  Everything had happened so quickly.  One moment she was at home.  The next, they were rushing to the hospital. The doc...

  Chapter 11: When Life Offers a Second Chance Not every story after loss looks the same.  Some people choose to stay alone.  Some dedicate themselves entirely to their children.  Some build a new career.  Some move cities.  Some immerse themselves in work a nd some...  choose to marry again . When Neha's journey began, the biggest question in her life was not how to love again.  It was how to survive the next day.  # How to answer Kabir's questions. # How to attend school functions alone. # How to explain puberty. # How to be both comfort and discipline. # How to become enough for a child who suddenly had only one parent. For her, that path felt right.  For someone else, it may not.  And that is the truth many people forget. There is no single correct way to rebuild life after loss.  No universal formula.  No perfect roadmap.  No guarantee that one choice is better than another.  Yet society often behaves as if ...

  Chapter 10: Things No One Notices About a Single Mother People noticed many things about Neha.  They noticed whether she smiled too much o r too little.  They noticed if she wore bright colors again.  They noticed if she came home late from work.  They noticed if a male colleague dropped her home after office meetings.  They noticed whether she attended family functions alone.  And sometimes…  they noticed things that were never their business to notice.  But there were many things no one ever saw. No one noticed how she quietly checked Kabir’s school diary at midnight after finishing office work.  How she ate cold dinners because she always fed him first.  How she searched parenting articles late at night before discussing difficult topics with him.  How she learned to explain “father conversations” while carrying her own grief silently.  How she stood outside his classroom during PTMs pretending to be confident…...

Chapter 9: The Questions She Didn’t Know How to Answer Kabir was growing faster than Neha had expected.  Every few months his shoes felt tighter.  His school trousers seemed shorter a nd his questions were becoming more thoughtful.  Less about toys and cartoons.  More about growing up. One Sunday evening, soft rain tapped gently against the window.  The room smelled of freshly washed clothes.  Neha sat on the bed folding towels while Kabir stood before the mirror, combing his damp hair after his bath.  He tilted his head, studying his reflection. “Mumma…” “Haan beta?” “When do boys become teenagers?” Neha looked up.  For a moment, she simply watched him.  His shoulders were still small.  His face still carried the innocence of childhood.  And yet, time was moving quietly forward. She placed the folded towel aside and patted the bed beside her.  “Come here.” Kabir sat cross-legged next to her.  “Why are you asking?” He shru...