I sat on the third-last bench in the last row of our classroom, right next to the window. It was the best spot in the entire room - not because I liked studying-I mean, who does?, but because from here, I could see the school playground.
There were flowers planted at some of the edges - yellow ones, pink ones, the kind Dadi always tried growing but failed every time because of me, who always unintentionally kicked the football on them which destroyed them. But I was always good at getting out of her anger with my puppy eyes.
Whenever class got boring - which was most of the time - I'd look out that window and imagine myself out there, playing football. Sometimes I actually did, during recess or P.T. with the senior boys or kids from other classes. Because honestly, the students in my own class weren't the biggest fans of me.
And... I kind of get it.
When your father is a teacher in the same school - and not just any teacher but Shourya Sir, the cold-faced, no-joke, straight-A teacher everyone's scared of - people automatically assume you're either a spy of your father... or a villain.
So either they act too sweet around me - like smiling so hard their jaws might crack - hoping I won't go running to Papa to complain.
Or... they just avoid me like I'm a walking homework assignment.
Scared. Distant. Awkward.
Honestly? I found it funny. I mean - me? Scary?
I have decent height, okay-ish hair (Dadi says it's straight and silky), and a face she calls "too cute to be taken seriously." I smile, unlike Papa, who smiles maybe once in a solar eclipse. So what exactly is so terrifying about me?
Anyway, even though my class didn't throw a welcome party for me every morning, I wasn't totally alone. I had one solid friend - Arav. He sat right behind me and played football with me, which already made him better than half the class.
Arav was the calm kind - like the "gets full marks in maths without making noise about it" kind. Super quiet, always lost in some book, and if he ever dropped his pencil, he'd apologize to the pencil.
But he was good. Real good.
Once, I saw a few boys messing with him behind the sports building. Not in a funny way. In a mean way. I told them to back off but not that they listened with just words, so leave that.
Since then, Arav started sticking close to me - not in an annoying way, but like one of those puppies who's scared of thunder and hides under the table.
That's how our friendship started. Not dramatic. Not magical. Just simple. Real.
And helpful - especially when I forgot to do my homework.
It was just a few days from our new academic year that started and it was already sucking really bad the reason you ask? The reason was standing exactly in front of me, teaching us now.
"Okay student, I need the homework done tomorrow. No excuses!"
Our English Sir, Mr. Nirav Narvekar, said in his usual angry tone, glaring around the class like a lion searching for prey.
He looked at a few students-especially the ones chatting at the back-but when his eyes landed on me, something changed. His stare got sharper, meaner, like he wanted me to mess up. Like he was waiting for one wrong word, one wrong move.
And I knew the reason why.
**Flashback**
It was a regular boring day. Sir was busy writing something on the blackboard even though the smart board beside him had the whole project already displayed. Most of the class was whispering or doodling or passing notes like usual.
I was sitting with my elbows on the bench, face resting on my palms, staring at the board with a look that said 'I already know all this.'
Thanks to my Dadi. She was an English teacher in her younger days, and now she's my personal grammar army. She teaches me all the time-except when Dadu interrupts us with his jokes or random cricket talks.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around to see Arav, looking pale and pointing to his right side with wide eyes.
I looked to the right and saw Yuvraj-the class's favorite troublemaker-grinning at me like some movie villain. But the moment his eyes darted beside me, his expression flipped. Fast. Like zoom! He sat up straight like nothing happened.
I slowly turned-and there he was.
Nirav Sir, standing beside my desk with that straight, serious face of his.
"Ved, stand up," he said.
I stood up quickly. "Yes, Sir?"
"What is the topic that is more important than the thing I am teaching you?" he said, his voice sharp, eyes flicking behind me toward Arav.
"No Sir," I answered calmly. "Nothing is more important than what you were teaching."
"Are you mocking me?" he snapped, his nostrils flaring like a bull in cartoons.
"Absolutely not, Sir," I said, still polite but firm.
But he wasn't listening. His voice got louder.
"Everyone says the same thing when they're caught talking! Do you think just because your father is a teacher here you can do anything you want? Then you are absolutely wrong!"
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.
"If you say you were paying attention, then..." he walked slowly to the podium, arms behind his back, acting like some king. "Tell me what I was teaching."
I took a breath.
Just then, the bell rang.
But he didn't move.
"I'm not going until you answer my question," he said, clearly enjoying the moment.
I could hear whispers around me:
"Math class now."
"Hope Nirav Sir stays, so that we don't have maths class."
"Ved is sooo dead."
I looked at Sir. I could've answered. I knew the answer. But I also knew he would not like my answer, more than my silence I saw him enjoying. And I didn't want to make things worse for my starting of the academic year.
So, I stayed quiet.
But just then-the door opened.
And the whole room went silent.
Papa- oops.
Shourya Sir walked in.
Tall. Calm. Serious face. White shirt. Watch on one wrist. Eyes sharp like he could read thoughts. The air felt different the second he stepped in, like everything straightened up around him on its own.
He looked around once, then locked eyes with Nirav Sir.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his voice deep and calm. "I was told I'd be using this classroom now."
There was a strange silence in the room. Everyone knew who he was. And everyone also knew who I was-to him.
Nirav Sir cleared his throat. "Yes, I was just finishing up," he muttered.
Then he looked back at me and smirked.
"Well, since your father is here, why don't you answer now and prove how much attention you pay?"
I looked at him once, then at Papa.
Papa didn't say anything. He just looked at me.
So I said, calmly, clearly, loud enough for all to hear, I couldn't help it now:
"You were teaching us similes and metaphors, Sir. Page 42. You gave examples like 'as brave as a lion' and 'the classroom was a zoo.' You asked us to write five of our own for homework. You also said the metaphor doesn't use 'like' or 'as'. That's how we know the difference."
There was a pause.
Nirav Sir's mouth opened a little, but no words came out.
I looked at him directly, but respectfully. I wasn't trying to win. I was just telling the truth. Not that he had done anything wrong to me, at least for now.
Then Papa looked at Nirav Sir-not smiling, not frowning-just quiet. He walked back and stood beside the podium, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
And in the softest whisper that only Nirav Sir could hear, he said something. Which no one heard.
And Nirav Sir?
He didn't say anything but.. but he looked terrified if I am right. He just turned away and walked out of the class. And I looked at him, desperate to know what he said to him but I knew he wouldn't tell me.
So I just took my seat with a sigh with everyone in the class but mine was different from theirs.
**Back to present.**
And from that day onwards... He never missed a chance.
No matter what I did-or didn't do-Nirav Sir always found a reason to call me out. Tie not straight? Late by a minute? Even if I blinked too loud, somehow, it bothered him.
It didn't bother me much after a point. I just got used to it.
The classroom buzzing broke my thoughts.
They all were busy- chairs screeching, paper balls flying, some kids huddled in circles gossiping, and others pretending to be busy flipping through math notebooks last-minute. The usual sight of the class.
But all of it - every single sound - froze the moment that door creaked open.
Click.
Shourya Sir had entered.
He didn't say a word, and he didn't need to.
The silence that followed was instant. Not the cheerful kind. No, it was heavier. Scary. Like everyone just sat up straighter without realizing it - as if the air itself adjusted to make space for him.
He walked in, that signature file in one hand, his watch glinting under the light. Not even a strand of his hair was out of place. His jaw looked sharper today - or maybe that's just how his presence felt when he wore all black.
He looked at us once. Calm. Composed. Unsmiling.
Not even a twitch.
I heard someone whisper behind me.
"Why does he never smile?"
"I swear, I've never seen him grin. Does he not have, like... a happy muscles?"
"And also he doesn't even need to scold us. Because his one look and we feel like we have committed a crime."
"I sometimes think that he stares into our soul and sees the marks of our last test."
I held back a grin. I'd heard all these theories before.
But the truth?
That was just how Papa was.
He wasn't rude. He didn't raise his voice. He just walked like every step meant something. Taught like every word had weight. He looked at you like you better be more than what you pretend to be.
He placed the file on the table, adjusted the duster next to the chalk, and turned to face us.
Still no smile.
And yet somehow, everyone sat with their backs straight, pencils poised, and not one dared whisper again.
Because he didn't need to smile to command a room.
He just had to exist in it.
And me? Sitting there at my bench, half wanting to smile, half pretending I didn't know what he'd do next - I couldn't help but think...
How does a person say so much, without saying a single word?
He picked up the chalk and started writing an equation on the board.
When he finished writing, he turned to the class and said, "Who wants to solve this?"
Nobody raised a hand. Of course.
Then he called, "Yuvraj."
I blinked. My eyes shot up from my notebook.
Yuvraj?
He sat up like someone had pushed him from behind. "Me?"
"Yes, you. Come," Papa said, stepping aside.
Yuvraj dragged himself up and walked to the board. I watched him closely. He looked at the sum once... then again... then again... and he just stared.
He didn't write anything.
"Sir..." he turned halfway to face him and shook his head with his hesitation in his eyes.
Papa stayed silent for a moment. Then, in his usual calm voice, he said, "Try it."
Yuvraj looked nervous now. He picked up the chalk like it was going to bite him and scribbled something random-like he was just guessing.
"That's incorrect," Papa said after a pause.
"I... Sir-"
"Five rounds of the school field," he said, without raising his voice. "Then come back."
Yuvraj looked stunned. But he didn't argue. No one did when Papa said something like that.
He nodded quietly and walked out of the class.
Everyone just stared. Some were smiling seeing him getting punished. Some confused. But all of them were silent.
But not my mind.
I knew that this sum was never thought in the class. Very sure.
And I knew why he did this.
Because of the things I told him yesterday.
I remember Papa was just listening. No big reaction. No lecture in return. He just nodded once and said what I didn't really expect from him but I was happy.
And that's all.
No follow-up questions. No threats to the principal -not like he would have.
And now... here it was.
He was the one who said that he couldn't misuse his power and see what he is doing right now? Big words Papa?
Yuvraj had no idea. The class didn't know either.
The class thought it was just a hard question. Some looked uneasy. Some whispered among themselves. Not knowing that Papa had never explained this sum. He just erased the board once Yuvraj left and turned back to the class.
"Open your books to page 67."
That was it.
No one spoke again. Not for the rest of the class.
He was teaching like he didn't even know me. Like I was just one of his student and not the same kid he had breakfast with three hours ago.
And that's what I find cool about him. If I want to be like anyone I will be like him-leaving the cold, scary and not smiling type of Shekhawat that only suits him.
"Ved, don't be distracted focus on the blackboard." Papa said in a normal tone while writing on the board.
"Yes sir!" I grinned back with a smile. I looked for my pencil but I felt like it was playing hide and seek with me suddenly as I find it wasn't on my book.
I felt a tap on my back, I turned back to Arav, he held my pencil in his hand-hesitately.
"Sorry but your pencil was lying down I just picked it up-" he explained while stammering.
"Thank you bro, you are my saviour," I winked at him, playfully and saw him blushing. I turned back in front so that my hitler teacher aka my father who turns hitler while teaching notices me talking and punishes me too.
But as I said, he is a good person and too innocent.
***
NIGHT - SHOURYA'S ROOM
The door creaked slightly as I pushed it open. The yellow lamp on the study table casts a warm glow over stacks of corrected notebooks and lesson plans.
Papers rustled softly as Papa-sat calmly, pen in hand, writing something of a sheet, his face unreadable as always with a glasses low on his nose. The room smelled faintly of ink and fresh paper, like it always did when he was working.
I stood at the door, watching him.
"You need anything, Ved?" he said without looking up.
I walked in slowly, my hands behind my back. "Papa... can I ask you something?"
He finally looked up. His eyes were sharp, clear, but soft when they saw me.
"Of course," he said, setting his pen down. "Always."
I walked closer, then stood in front of his desk.
"Why did you do it?" I asked.
He raised an eyebrow slightly, tilting his head sideways. "Do what? You're here about the math class I conducted today, aren't you?"
I blinked, surprised. "So you do admit it was intentional?"
He smirked. "I didn't admit anything. I'm just saying if someone happened to suffer from not doing their work and getting punishment... that's purely... mathematical karma."
I folded my arms. "Papa."
He leaned back in his chair, took off his glasses and twirled them a little, mock-thoughtfully. "Hmm... what would be unsmiling, cold, and very scary math teacher say to that?"
Self aware, he is. I see.
"You gave Yuvraj a question we never learned," I accused, narrowing my eyes.
"Oh?" he said, mock-innocently.
"Why did you punish him?" I raised my brows at him in question.
He looked at me, his gaze steady. "I wouldn't have punished him If he told me that this sum wasn't thought in the class. I was just making sure he stayed attentive in class."
"You did it for what I said yesterday, didn't you?" I asked, quieter this time.
His eyes held mine for a second.
"What did you expect me to do, Ved?" he said with a sigh. "Send a memo to the principal saying 'Yuvraj is mean, please confiscate his attitude?' or sit ideal?"
I chuckled.
He smiled, but there was a steel beneath it. "You didn't give me names. But you told me the truth. That's all I needed."
I smiled and climbed on his lap, "But you know, you were looking so cool at that time!!" I gave him a thumbs up while he hold me on his lap.
I heard him chuckle behind me, I looked at his study table, there were newspaper and many papers with some pictures of people.
"Papa, why do you have pictures of our teachers and all news articles about Yuvraj dad company?" I incurred him after reading one word on the newspaper which said something about Roy company-not that I would have understood much other than that even after reading the full thing.
He didn't say anything for a while, "Just... learning about them." his voice didn't have any emotions like he was talking to me earlier.
"Why Papa? Do you have to give exams on this topic?" I asked, my eyes turned into pity for him.
I hated exam if you don't know.
He just laughed at it and ruffled my hair, "Not me. But they might have too in future?"
"Then please give them the hardest question, okay?" I nodded slowly.
"Sure." I saw him smirking while his eyes held a look of amusement.
"It will be fun!" I smiled and got down from his lap while rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands.
It was time to sleep I guess. I yawned as I walked further.
"Then I should make you solve some questions to test the level, right?" I turned back at his words. My eyes wide open, the sleepiness flying away after hearing him.
I fake-gasped. "You wouldn't!"
He winked. "Try me."
"Goodnight, Papa." I ran from there while I heard his faint reply to me.
"Goodnight, Ved" he said.
∆∆∆
I knocked gently on the bathroom door.
"Vani, do you need help?" I asked, pressing my ear closer, trying to hear anything beyond the wood.
"No, Mumma. I can do it. You can rest now," came her soft reply.
Her voice was steady, but it didn't stop the anxiety building in my chest. She had recently started doing things on her own-small things, like changing her catheter, moving without my help. It made me proud. But also... terrified. My mind couldn't help but list every possible thing that could go wrong. What if she slipped? What if she hurt herself?
Just then, my phone buzzed from the nightstand. I gave the door one last glance before walking over and picking it up.
It was Shreya.
A close friend to me, she is also a doctor. She used to always visit us in between her work and sometimes she used to do a sleepover here with us. Which always ended up as a nightmare to me.
I smiled as I answered, "Hey Shreya! Finally found some time to miss us?"
"Haww di! Why would you say that?" she gasped, acting offended, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"So how are you? And what's with this sudden call-everything alright?"
"All great, Mumma," she said cheekily. I instinctively looked toward the bathroom again. The door was still closed.
"You really treat me like I'm a kid, di," she added dramatically. "Come on, I can totally take care of myself."
"Oh really? Like the time you cooked dinner and almost burnt both my taste buds and my daughter's?" I rolled my eyes and started walking slowly around the room.
"But I did cover up the damage, right? I paid you eleven rupees in return. Did you forget?"
I stopped in my tracks, caught off guard by the memory. "Eleven rupees?" I scoffed. "That can't even get me strawberry juice these days!"
"Still you kept it, didn't you?" I could practically hear her smirking.
"And still I accepted your apology, didn't I?" I replied, grinning.
"Damn girl, then accept me too. I promise I'll take great care of you and your daughter." Her voice dipped into a teasing flirt.
"No thanks. I'm not ready to adopt a grown adult right now," I quipped.
"Here I am flirting and you're being such a mood-breaker," she huffed.
Her pouty tone made me laugh as I sat on the edge of the bed. But then-
"Mummaa!!"
My heart dropped.
I jumped to my feet, the phone slipping from my hand onto the mattress as I rushed to the bathroom.
I didn't even knock-I just opened the door.
There she was. My baby. Sitting on the toilet seat, trembling, eyes wet and terrified. One hand held a small mirror, the other still gripping the catheter.
And blood flowing from her v@gina.
My heart clenched at the sight.
I moved quickly, grabbing the soft cloth from the tray on the side table. I pressed it gently against her where the blood was coming from, trying not to panic-at least not on the outside. Inside, I was already breaking apart.
Vani was crying, shoulders shaking, her small frame curling in on itself.
I knelt beside her, wrapping my arm around her tiny back, pressing her gently to my chest.
"Mumma... it's burning inside," she whispered between sobs. "Did I... did I do something wrong?"
"No baby... no," I murmured, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. "You didn't do anything wrong."
I wanted to tell her it was just a small mistake. That everything would be okay. But the words choked in my throat. I couldn't. Because every time this happens, my own fear swallows me whole. What if this time it's worse? What if it leaves another big impact on her fragile body? What if it-
No. Not now. Not in front of her.
I kissed the top of her head. "I'm right here. You're okay. We'll take care of it, together."
She clung to me like she used to when she was a toddler, burying her face into my chest, her tears soaking into my kurti. I gently rubbed her back, murmuring small things I didn't even register, just so she wouldn't feel alone in the moment.
After a few minutes, her breathing started to calm, and the bleeding slowed. I gently wiped her tears and helped her change into clean clothes and made her lie on the mattress. Her hands were still trembling slightly, but she was trying to be brave.
Always trying.
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
I took a deep breath, wiped the tear trailing down my cheek, and looked at her again.
"Let's go to the hospital," I said gently, my voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't respond.
I knew she didn't want to go. Hospitals scared her. The smell, the cold metal, the white lights, the poking and prodding... they all reminded her of pain. Of everything she had to endure.
But it was my helplessness.
It wasn't a choice. It was a necessity.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Please say something," I added softly, though I wasn't even sure if I was pleading with her or the universe.
I waited.
Hoping maybe she'd say something, maybe protest or argue that she's fine. But.. she never did, not even now. Not even a shake of her head.
She nodded her head despite the hesitation I saw in her nod, "Will we meet Shreya Masi?" she asked after a while.
"Yes, we will, and I did talk to her before she was missing you so much," I smiled warmly after her reaction changed after the mention of Shreya.
"Really? I also missed her so much! Why didn't you let me talk to her, I have so many things to share which we both did in her absence." her voice turned joyful as she listed out everything, making me smile.
I just hope the results will be good. I thought to myself.
***
HOSPITAL
"Miss Sharma, as I told you before, it's just a normal thing. Her catheter went in the wrong place, which caused a little bleeding. That's all," Dr. Shah explained to me patiently - again - like she was trying to convince a kid to sleep without fearing the darkness of the room.
I knew she meant well. I knew she was trying to calm me. But how could I be calm?
We were sitting in Dr. Nitya Shah's cabin - the same cabin I had entered countless times in the last ten years. The walls were filled with framed certificates and soft-coloured posters explaining things I now knew by heart. But still, I looked at them, trying to distract my overthinking brain.
Dr. Shah had been with us since I brought Vani in his hospital for her surgery, when she was just a few days old. She wasn't just our doctor. She was more.
She was the one who guided me when I couldn't even hold my baby without shaking. She helped me choose the right diapers, the right food, the right words when Vani cried and I didn't know how to respond. She had helped in every thing for which I could never be able to return her back in words or money.
She was a mother too. She understood the kind of fears I never dared to say aloud. The kind that kept me awake at night.
She didn't treat us like patients. She treated us like family.
"I know that, Dr. Shah," I finally replied, my voice quieter than I intended. "But I can't help it. Whenever I see her like that I feel so... helpless. I couldn't even stop my mind from thinking negatively. What if it wasn't a minor injury and-"
My voice cracked. I couldn't complete that sentence.
Because even the thought of something worse happening to Vani made my throat choke and my heart curled itself.
"Aarya," she said softly, reaching across the table to hold my hand. "You have to stay strong. I understand what you're feeling."
I gave a small nod, but my eyes burned.
"She cried last night," I whispered, my fingers tightening around hers. "She didn't cry loudly. She just... sobbed into her pillow thinking I couldn't hear."
Tears slipped down my cheek before I could stop them.
"I stayed quiet," I continued, "pretended to sleep because I didn't want her to feel like she's being watched every second. But I heard it all with a heavy heart."
Dr. Shah let out a small sigh and stood up, walking around the desk. She sat beside me and handed me a tissue, placing her other hand gently on my shoulder.
"You are doing more than most would, Aarya. I hope you see that."
"No," I shook my head. "I'm just... surviving, not doing. I watch my daughter suffer and act like everything is fine."
"Because that's the bravest thing a mother can do," she said, her voice firm now. "You don't run away. You show up - for every appointment, every session, every tear, every breakdown. That's not just surviving. That's love, Aarya. That's strength."
I looked away, wiping my face, still feeling guilty for panicking over a catheter incident when I knew there could be worse days ahead.
"She asked me again, a few days back," I said after a pause. "Mama, will I walk without a wheelchair?"
Dr. Shah's eyes softened.
"What did you tell her?"
I smiled bitterly. "I replied with the same lie I was good at like- Yes, and we will dance together."
"And did she believe you?"
I nodded. "She smiled. She said, 'Then you better be ready to lose from me.'"
Dr. Shah chuckled. I smiled too, but it faded quickly.
"Will she ever walk?" I asked, my voice so quiet it almost felt like a prayer.
Dr. Shah looked at me, serious now. "We can't promise that, Aarya. We can try everything - and I mean everything - to give her a chance. But you have to know that she has a permanent disability which can't be fixed, either."
I took a deep breath with a heavy heart and the cruel truth.
There was silence for a while.
I was still trying to collect my thoughts, when Dr. Shah spoke again, her voice softer this time, but filled with a quiet conviction.
"Aarya... I've been thinking about something."
I looked at her, unsure.
"I think it's time we consider sending Vani to school. Not just online. But in-person. Offline classes."
I blinked. "What?"
"I know you're scared," she continued, gently, "and trust me, I understand. But she's ten now. And the more she stays confined to the four walls of home and hospital, the more she might start believing that her world is only meant to be small."
I stayed silent. My heart was already racing.
"But what about-"
"I know your concerns," she cut in calmly, "bathroom issues, the catheter routine, managing the stairs, handling the questions, the stares... all of it. I've seen it with other children, Aarya. And that's exactly why I'm suggesting something else."
She pulled open her drawer and took out a file, sliding it toward me.
"There are schools - good ones - designed specially for children with disabilities. Not just for Myelomeningocele, but for any child who needs extra care."
I hesitated while keeping my thoughts, "I know that the special school will be great for Vani disability but.."
"But?"
I looked down at my lap as I started, "But I don't want her to believe she is not normal. I might sound selfish but I want her to have a normal life like a normal kid has. I know you might feel like I am ignoring the condition she is in but is it okay if I say no?"
"I have nothing against special school or the children studying there, I just.. just can't afford to break her hope." I added.
"I get you.. and I have prepared another file which might help you." my head snapped at her after listening to her words.
I blinked, surprised. "You mean... a regular school?"
She nodded. "Yes. A regular school. With other children, where she can make friends, share her lunch, laugh loudly at silly jokes like how you want to see her."
My heartbeat quickened. "But-how? You know her condition. The catheter care, the restrooms, how will she manage? What if she falls sick? Or gets hurt? Or worse... what if someone says something cruel? She's so sensitive, Nitya... she might smile outside but she'll break inside and never tell me."
Dr. Shah leaned forward and held my gaze. "Aarya... I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't believe she could do it. And more importantly, if I didn't believe there was a place that could hold her with care and dignity."
She opened her drawer, pulled out a file, and gently slid it across the table toward me.
"I want you to consider the 'Pathway International High & Higher Secondary School'."
I frowned. "Isn't that a popular CBSE school in town?"
"Yes," she replied, "and one of the most inclusive ones I've seen. The reason is personal - the school director, Mr. Sanjeev Rana, has a daughter who had a spinal cord disability. Just like Vani but she had a different case. Years ago, when she started school, he realised how poorly-equipped most institutions were."
She took a breath and continued, "So he changed that. He redesigned the entire infrastructure - ramps at every entry point, wide-door restrooms with disabled access, trained school nurses, emotional counselors, and even a separate quiet room for students who need rest during the day."
I flipped through the brochure in my hand - bright classrooms, happy faces, and then a photo of a wheelchair-accessible playground. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"I've personally worked with a few of their staff," Dr. Shah added, "They are empathetic and trained. And best of all, they treat the children like children - not like cases or charity."
I stayed quiet, overwhelmed.
"She deserves more than just surviving through screens and hospital beds, Aarya. She deserves birthday parties with her classmates, best friends, school competitions, and the joy of living beyond the fear of her body."
"But what if..." I paused, my throat heavy. "What if she doesn't feel like she fits in?"
Dr. Shah smiled gently. "Then we hold her hand till she does. And if not there, then somewhere else. But first, let's give her the chance to try."
My eyes welled up. "I've always been scared, you know? Of letting her go too far. Because I know the world isn't kind."
"But this is how we teach the world to be kind- by showing them who our children are," she said. "Not broken. Not less. Just different. And just as worthy."
"She'll meet kids of her age. Maybe for the first time... she'll feel like she belongs." Dr. Shah added.
That line hit me. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
I clutched the file, my hands trembling. "I hope I am not being cruel to her or being a bad mother."
"No Aarya, you are the best mother I ever crossed paths with, you are even greater than me." she squeezed my shoulder in encouragement.
Maybe it was time to stop protecting her so much... and start preparing her for the world - one step at a time.
And maybe, just maybe... this was that step.
I stepped out of Dr. Shah's cabin with the file clutched to my chest and a hundred emotions swirling in my mind. The conversation still echoed in my ears - the hope in Dr. Shah's voice, the possibilities wrapped inside the file, the idea of a normal school, of Vani going out into the world on her own.
I wasn't sure if I was ready.
But maybe... maybe this was good for her.
As I turned the corner toward the waiting area, I stopped in my tracks, spotting her from a distance - my baby. She was in her wheelchair, facing someone, and her hands were animated in mid-air as she spoke, her eyes bright, her smile untouched by worry.
Sitting beside her, almost cross-legged on the floor, was Shreya. A junior doctor in the hospital and one of the very few people who managed to connect with Vani on a level even I couldn't always reach, sometimes.
"And then I told him," Vani giggled, "you're not supposed to put the stethoscope on your nose!" Shreya laughed heartily.
"You're brutal! My poor Nagu." Vani said.
<Nagu—her pets name.>
"He deserved it," Shreya pouted dramatically.
"But you love him," Vain narrowed her eyes and they laughed when Shreya nodded her head very aggressively.
I smiled without meaning to.
Watching them together always warmed something in my chest. There was no pity in Shreya's gaze, only genuine amusement and affection. That was rare.
"Excuse me, ladies," I said, finally stepping closer.
Both turned toward me.
"Mamma!" Vani stretched out her arms. I leaned down to hug her tightly.
Shreya stood up and smiled. "She's been keeping me entertained for the last twenty minutes. Are you ready to take her home, or should I bribe her with ice cream and adopt her?"
"Let's save adoption for another day," I chuckled, brushing Vani's hair back. "But thank you, Shreya. Really."
"Thank you? Really? I am offended." Shreya pouts dramatically while facing away from me.
"Okay okay I am sorry, but if you ever get time come home," I suggest with a warm smile, "but but but no horror movies!"
"Why are you scared when I am here?" She flirt in a different voice while keeping her hands on my shoulder.
"That's the first reason why I am scared." I said nonchalantly brushing her hands off me.
"Again rejected! Humph but I won't give up." she stamped her feet on the floor, making Vani giggle.
"Okay now we'll go, you also go back to your shift." I turned to her, grabbing the handle of Vani's wheelchair.
"Yeaa, see you very soon," She smiled gently, hugging both of us and left.
***
LATER AT NIGHT
The house was quiet. Vani had just finished her dinner, and I tucked her into bed, carefully adjusting her legs on the cushions she preferred.
She was still humming the jingle from the cartoon she watched earlier when I sat beside her on the bed.
"Vani?" I said softly.
"Yes Mumma..?" she turned to me, her voice already slower with sleep.
"I spoke to Dr. Shah today about something,,," I began, keeping my tone light.
She blinked her big eyes, instantly more alert. "About what Mumma?"
"About something important." I paused, gathering myself. "What do you think about... going to school?"
She frowned. "I already do online classes, mumma."
I nodded. "Not that kind. I mean... a real school. With a building, and classrooms, and teachers you meet face-to-face. Friends. Lunch breaks. Holidays."
Her eyes widened. "Like-proper school?"
"Yes." I pulled the file out from my bag and laid it on the bed beside her. "There's a school. With ramps, and nurse rooms, and everything you might need. The director's own daughter had something similar to you, so he made sure no kid ever feels left out again."
Vani was silent for a moment.
Then, she whispered, "Will I be the only one like me?"
But you are one of them baby. You are not separate.
I smiled and shook my head. "Maybe. Maybe not. But you are one of them Vani. You are not separate from any of them."
"And most importantly -you will enjoy being in an open playground." I added.
She stared at me for a few more seconds. And then suddenly - her eyes lit up.
"Will I get a uniform?"
I blinked. "Um... yes?"
"Can I have a pink water bottle? With sparkles?"
I laughed, tears rushing to my eyes from the sudden wave of emotion. "You can have two."
She grinned wide, grabbing my hand with both of hers. "Will there be a library?"
"There will. I think it will be bigger than what we have in our apartment."
"Then I want to go. Please, mumma. I want to go."
"We have to go there to take admission very soon because the academy has already started weeks ago." I tried to play with her, trying to scare her.
"No, let go tomorrow." She sat straight getting all worked up.
"Okay okay ma'am, but not tomorrow on Monday," I nodded with a smile and kissed her forehead.
I thought she wouldn't like that idea. But it's good that she doesn't.
She laid back, her smile still intact, and closed her eyes - as if already dreaming of the new world waiting for her.
I stayed with her until she drifted off, her breathing soft and steady. In the dim nightlight, I looked at her - so full of hope, of innocence, of quiet strength.
And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to believe:
Maybe she will really start opening up and be more happy.
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