My father, Narayan, is 65 and lives in Jaipur, a man shaped by many challenges but still full of quiet determination. After my mother passed away when my brother and I were young, he raised us single-handedly with patience and sacrifice. For years, whenever relatives encouraged him to remarry, he would smile and say he had everything he needed as long as he had his children.
But time has its own way of revealing what the heart carries. Once my brother and I married and settled into our own homes, we began noticing changes in him. He spoke less, spent long hours sitting by the window, and often looked lost in thought. The moment we walked in to visit, he would brighten, talking animatedly about the day. But as soon as we left, the house grew silent again.
