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

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...

  Chapter 8: Between Being Strict and Being Soft The complaint came on a Wednesday afternoon.  Neha was reviewing a report at her office when her phone vibrated.  A message from Kabir’s class teacher. “Kabir was talking during class and had a fight with his class fellow. Please discuss this with him.” Neha read the message twice.  Then once more.  She leaned back in her chair.  Kabir was usually cheerful. Talkative, yes. Mischievous, certainly. But fighting with a child?  That was unlike him. All evening, the message stayed in her mind.  During the ride home.  While cutting vegetables.  While checking his homework.  Kabir seemed normal.  A little too normal.  He chatted about a science project and a funny incident in the school bus.  As if nothing had happened. After dinner, Neha closed his notebook and looked at him.  “Kabir, aaj school mein kya hua?” Kabir avoided her eyes.  “Nothing.” “Teacher ka messag...

  Chapter 7: The Morning She Didn’t Want to Wake Up… But Did The alarm rang at 4:45 AM.  A soft chime.  Then again.  And again.  Neha opened her eyes slowly.  The room was still dark.  The ceiling fan rotated in the same steady rhythm.  Beside her, Kabir slept peacefully, one arm stretched across the bed, his hair falling over his forehead. For a moment, Neha did not move.  Her body felt unusually heavy.  Not the kind of tiredness that disappears after a good night’s sleep.  This was deeper.  The kind that settles in your bones.  The kind that makes even simple things feel difficult. She looked at the clock. 4:58 AM. In another few minutes, she would have to get up for the same routine i.e.  Tea,  Breakfast,  Tiffin,  Uniform,  Office,  Homework,  Dinner. And then… do it all over again. She closed her eyes for a while again. A thought crossed her mind.  👉 “Aaj bas nahi hot...

  Chapter 6: The Day She Broke Down Silently The day had started like any other.  Alarm at 5:45 AM.  Tea on the stove.  Kabir’s tiffin packed before sunrise.  Uniform ironed.  Water bottle filled.  School diary signed.  By 8:00 AM, Kabir was on the school bus.  By 9:20 AM, Neha was at her office desk. By evening, she had already answered dozens of emails, attended two meetings and corrected a presentation three different times.  Nothing unusual.  Just life. When she reached home, it was nearly 7:15 PM.  Her shoulders ached.  Her head felt heavy.  But the evening routine was waiting. Kabir’s homework. Dinner preparation. Laundry still folded in a chair. A school circular that needed to be signed. “Mumma, maths ka ek question samajh nahi aa raha.”  “Abhi batati hoon.” “Mumma, kal chart paper bhi chahiye.” “Thik hai.” “Mumma, mera compass box nahi mil raha.” “Bag mein dekho.” She moved from one task...

  Chapter 5: “Unke Papa Aate Hain…” It was Saturday evening.  The neighborhood park was unusually crowded.  Children ran across the grass chasing footballs.  Mothers sat on benches discussing homework and tuition schedules.  Fathers pushed swings, adjusted bicycle seats and pretended not to be tired.  The golden light of sunset spread softly across the playground. Kabir stood near the cricket pitch, holding his bat. “Mumma, fast ball daalna!” Neha laughed. “Main fast ball nahi daal sakti.” Kabir grinned. “Try toh karo.” She threw the ball.  It bounced twice before reaching him.  Kabir hit it anyway and ran dramatically between imaginary wickets. “Four!” A few children nearby laughed.  Neha clapped. “Very good!” After some time, Kabir joined a group of boys playing together.  Neha sat on a bench, watching from a distance.  Her office bag rested beside her.  Her hair was tied hastily.  The tiredness on her face...

Chapter 4 - Log Kya Kahenge Sunday afternoons were usually slower. No office. No school bus. No hurried breakfast. Just sunlight falling quietly across the living room floor and the faint sound of cartoons coming from the television.  Kabir lay on the rug, building a cricket stadium with his blocks. Neha sat nearby, folding freshly dried clothes into neat piles. T-shirts. School uniforms. Tiny socks that somehow always disappeared in pairs. For a few hours, life felt almost normal. The doorbell rang.  Kabir looked up. “Main dekhu?” “Ruko, beta.” Neha opened the door.  Her aunt stood there, smiling warmly, carrying a box of sweets. “Achanak aa gayi. Socha milte chalte.” “Come in, Maasi.” Kabir ran forward.  “Namaste Naani Ji” “Namaste Beta, Arrey, kitna bada ho gaya hai mera bacha.” Tea was served.  Conversations began with familiar topics. School. Weather. Health. Then, as often happens, the tone shifted.  Her aunt placed the teacup ...

Chapter 3 - The Night She Felt Like a Failed Mother The office lights were still on.  Most desks were empty.  A few screens glowed in the quiet space, the soft tapping of keyboards echoing more than usual.  Neha looked at the time. 8:12 PM. Her shoulders felt heavy. The same presentation. The same corrections. The same “just one more change.” She closed her eyes for a second.  Then opened them again.  Laptop screen still waiting. Her phone buzzed. tring tring........... She glanced quickly.  Kabir Calling… Her heart skipped.  She picked up instantly. “Haan beta…” “Mumma… aap kab aaoge?” His voice was softer than usual.  Neha looked at her screen again.  “Bas beta… thoda kaam hai… 30 minutes.” A small pause. “Main wait kar raha hoon…” Neha swallowed.  “Dinner kar liya?” “Dadi ne bola tha pr mei aapke saath karunga…” She closed her eyes again.  Just for a moment.  “Achha… main jaldi aati hoon.” “Pakka?” “...

  Chapter 2: The Empty Chair The school ground looked different that evening.  Too bright.  Too colorful.  Too full. Rows of white plastic chairs were lined up neatly, facing a decorated stage covered with red and yellow drapes. Fairy lights blinked slowly, even before the sun had completely set. Children ran around in costumes—some dressed as flowers, some as soldiers, some holding paper crowns slightly tilted on their heads. Parents were arriving in pairs.  Holding hands.  Carrying phones.  Looking for seats. Neha stood near the entrance, holding Kabir’s hand.  “Mumma, jaldi chalo… meri turn aa jayegi!” “Haan haan… chal rahe hain.” She adjusted her dupatta with one hand, while the other held Kabir tightly—almost subconsciously.  They found their row.  Second from the front.  Kabir quickly pointed— “Mumma, yahan baithte hain!” They sat.  Two chairs.  Side by side. One filled.  One empty. Kabir looked aroun...