Epilogue
FIVE YEARS LATER
IRA
“Look how cute he looks in uniform,” I said, watching my little boy twirl around in his crisp school clothes. It was his very first day at Army Public School, and Iraaj seemed more excited than any other morning.
“He looks handsome like his father,” Prashant replied with a grin, flipping parathas on the pan. He had just come back from his night shift, and since I had the morning one, he was handling breakfast for the three of us. We balanced our duties with parenting, and somehow, we always made it work.
“He’s much more handsome, beautiful, and adorable than you,” I teased, grabbing Iraaj’s face and covering him with kisses.
“Mumma, stop!” he protested, wriggling out of my hold. He wiped his cheeks quickly, then adjusted his hair in front of the mirror. “You just ruined my hairstyle!”
“Hairstyle?” I repeated, raising a brow as I glanced at Prashant, who was trying hard not to laugh.
“Yup,” Iraaj said coolly, still fussing with his hair.
I shook my head with mock despair. “My baby just grew up,” I whispered to Prashant, then mouthed, What is this behavior? Turning back to Iraaj, I said aloud, “So you don’t want Mumma’s kisses anymore?”
Iraaj rolled his eyes with the kind of seriousness only a five-year-old could manage. “Mumma, I am not a baby now. I am a schoolboy.”
Prashant let out a chuckle from the kitchen. “Schoolboy saab! Already so big. Next year you will tell us you don’t want bedtime stories also?”
“No, Papa,” Iraaj answered quickly, his eyes widening at the very thought. “Bedtime stories are important. But kisses… too many kisses are… embarrassing.”
I gasped in mock horror. “Embarrassing? My love is embarrassing?”
Prashant came over, wiping his hands on a towel, and bent down to Iraaj’s level. “Beta, you should never be embarrassed of love. Mumma’s kisses are like secret blessings. You will carry them in your pocket all day.” He tapped Iraaj’s chest gently.
Iraaj tilted his head, pretending to think deeply. “Okay, one kiss. But only on forehead. Not cheeks!”
I quickly leaned in before he could change his mind and planted the gentlest kiss on his forehead. “Deal.”
He smiled proudly, showing off the tiny gap where his baby tooth had fallen out last week. That smile was enough to melt every bit of tiredness in me.
“Breakfast ready!” Prashant announced, setting the parathas on the table.
The three of us sat together, our little world tucked inside the small dining corner of our home.
Between bites, Iraaj told us about how he wanted to be the class monitor and how he would raise his hand in every question so the teacher noticed him.
Prashant winked at me. “Leader material just like Mumma.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “Just like Papa, always wanting to be in charge.”
Our boy giggled, stuffing his mouth with paratha. “Like both!”
And in that moment, with our plates full, hearts lighter, and laughter bouncing off the walls, it felt like the whole world outside could wait.
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Thank You
Thank you so much for supporting me and being a part of Ira and Prashant’s journey. It truly means the world to me.