Six years later

Ishika Sharma

Sunday . Sunday's are so much blessing for a corporate slave like me . I try to sleep like an orange cat on an average afternoon, So that  I can be charged for the coming week .

Key word try . Because --

" Mamma!!"

Suddenly the door opens and a little 5 years old munchkin comes inside while screaming

Yeah , My 5 years old son , Ishaan, comes inside my room , breaking my dream of having a lazy Sunday morning. I try to ignore his voice. But he screams louder .

" wake up mamma !! "

" Aan !! go to grandma , let mamma sleep !!!! " I whine dipping my face more into my soft pillow

" No mamma , wake up . It's morning!! everyone will buy new Chikorita plushie . Wake up. " He screams and this time he climbs up the bed and sits on top of me.

This boy and his obsession with Pokémon especially with Chikorita plushie. Every child in his age gets obsessed with Pikachu. But Ishaan , He seems to find another Pokémon cuter than Pikachu . Just - Just like--

" Mamma !!! " He whines while keeping his head over mine .

Huff . This boy's very stubborn. I wonder why's he like that. I turn around and face the dressing table mirror.

" Okay , okay , I'm up . You climp down , We'll go after I freshen up. "

as soon as I say those words I hear his loud cheerful happy scream . He immediately gets down . He jumps happily.

I sit up on the bed and a smile forms on my face seeing his happy face . My boy has been silent since last two weeks, As I was busy . But now he'll not back off , as today's my day off .

" Oh, Ishika . It's good you wake up . "

I look at the source of the voice and find my Mom standing at the doorway. Ishaan goes to her immediately.

" My pancakes are ready . Come quickly. Aan is too excited today . " Affectionately hugging Ishaan with her one hand she said to me .

Ah , this seems the reason behind my Son's stubborn nature . His over pampering grandma . I wonder where my strict mom went .

" Yeah , yeah Mom . I'll take your grandson out today. " Running my fingers through my braided hairs I say .

Mom rolls her eyes and takes Ishaan in her arms . Then talking to him sweetly she takes him to kitchen to feed him .

I stretch my limbs and let out a yawn. Seems like, I need to postpone my becoming an orange cat plan . My boy needs my time.

I take a deep breath and finally push myself out of the cozy comfort of my bed. The smell of pancakes and jasmine tea fills the air, and I feel my exhaustion slipping away, just a little. Ishaan’s excitement is contagious, and even though I’m not fully awake, there’s something about seeing him so happy that  stirs a bit of energy inside me.

I head to the bathroom, splash my face with cold water, and quickly change into something comfortable .

When I step out of my room,  I find my dad sitting on the couch, flipping through the newspaper with a neutral expression.

" Morning, Dad, " I say, my voice a little softer than I mean it to be. His gaze flicks up. Only for mere a second .

" Morning. " He replies then focuses back into his newspaper.

Did I expect him to speak to me more affectionately.

Yes .

But do I deserve it ?

According to him . No .

According to me ....

I - I should go towards kitchen. Aan and Mom is waiting for me .

I step toward the kitchen, but Ray is already darting out to meet me, a big smile on his face.  Mom , washing dishes . I quickly have my breakfast. then Ray and I head out to buy Ishaan’s plushie.

Sometimes later

Ishaan happily walks beside me as I stroll through the grocery section with my cart, half full with necessary items. I’m trying to keep it quick, knowing we still need to make our way to local fruit store. But Ishaan doesn’t seem to mind. He’s holding his new Chikorita plushie tightly in his hands, occasionally glancing down at it as if he’s afraid it’ll disappear. His joy is contagious, and I can’t help but chuckle every time he looks at me with his sparkling eyes.

“See, Mamma? Chikorita is so beautiful!” Ishaan says, his voice practically bursting with happiness.

I chuckle hearing his happy voice. “Yes, sweetie, it really is beautiful. I’m glad you like it.”

We now reach the dairy section of the store, and I stop for a moment to check the prices. As I grab a carton of milk, I catch sight of a young mother a few aisles over. She’s standing by the baby formula section, her eyes scanning the prices with a worried expression on her face. I notice the discomfort on her newborn’s face—her baby keeps crying softly in her arms. It’s clear the little one is upset, and the mother looks overwhelmed. Her clothes are worn out, and the exhaustion in her eyes is undeniable.

My heart clenches as I watch her, and I feel a sense of solidarity with her. The look in her eyes tells me that she’s probably struggling. I can only guess how hard it must be for her to try and figure out the best option for her baby when money is clearly tight.

I take a breath, trying to steady myself. I know what it’s like to be stretched thin. But I also know the power of a little help, the difference it can make when someone offers a hand, even in small ways. I glance over at Ray, still holding his plushie and smiling, completely unaware of the situation unfolding just a few feet away.

“Aan , baby, stay here near the cart, okay?” I say gently, crouching down to his level. “I’m coming after talking to that aunty. Be a good boy, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

Ishaan nods obediently, his face lighting up as he responds, “Okay, Mamma!”

I ruffle his hair affectionately before I make my way toward the young mother. I try to make my approach as nonintrusive as possible, not wanting to startle her but also wanting to offer help.

“Excuse me,” I say, my voice soft but clear. “I couldn’t help but notice... I know it can be really difficult sometimes to balance everything. If you need any help, I’d be happy to assist you.”

The young mother looks up at me, her tired eyes wary at first, but as she takes in my expression, something shifts. There’s hesitation, yes, but also a flicker of relief. She looks down at her baby, whose cries have quieted but not stopped.

“Are you sure?” she asks, her voice laced with doubt. “I don’t want to impose…”

“No, no, you’re not imposing,” I assure her gently. “I’ve been there before, and I know how hard it can get sometimes. We all need help every now and then. I'm a mother myself who needed formula milk because my breast milk wasn't sufficient. If it’s okay with you, I can cover the cost of whatever you need. It’s not much, but I hope it’ll help.”

The young mother’s eyes begin to well up with tears, and she quickly wipes them away, embarrassed. “Thank you… thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

I smile softly, feeling a warmth in my chest. “It’s nothing at all. You’re doing your best, and that’s all that matters.”

As she begins to pick out the formula she needs, I step back for a moment, letting her focus. My heart still aches for her, but knowing I’ve made a small difference in her day helps ease the tightness in my chest.

With a small smile pestI turn around . I started to walk towards the place where I left Ishaan standing. I'm sure he would be bore af right now and would be talking to his plushie , complaining about me . I chuckle imagining his pouty face .

But as I go closer I noticed a figure standing near Ishaan. My eyes widen and I froze at my place . The first thing that came to my mind was

" Ishaan--- my Ishaan!!! "

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