You Are Enough

𖹭 Azhar

Sitting at the bus stop, I was waiting for the bus to arrive soon, giving me a way to reach home. I sighed, looking at my phone, which was already dead, and I had no means to communicate with my family.

But for a change, there was a sense of peace in my mind, for I did not have to worry about my twin nephews, Yousuf and Vihaan, that they are alone at home, waiting for me.

They have their Ammi to take care of them. I took a deep breath, remembering my past.

Bhaijaan and Bhabhi had a car accident while returning from a distant cousin's wedding. The news hit like a thunderbolt, and the pain was unbearable, but there was no time to grieve. I was left alone to handle one year-old babies, Yousuf and Vihaan.

The initial days were tough. The house echoed with their cries and my silent sobs. The nights were long, filled with sleepless hours of tending to their needs, rocking them to sleep, and waking up at the slightest sound, fearing they might need me.

There were moments when I felt utterly helpless, wondering how I would ever manage without Bhaijaan and Bhabhi. But every time I looked into the innocent eyes of Yousuf and Vihaan, I found a new hope. They needed me, and I needed them to cope up with my sadness. I learned to juggle my job and parenting, often working late into the night after the children had gone to bed.

Gradually, days turned into weeks and weeks into months. It was difficult to handle them, but soon, I began to find joy in the little moments. The children started to grow. Their first words, their first steps-each milestone - was a bittersweet reminder of what we had lost and what we still had.

The sudden blow of wind made me shiver and I was brought out of my thoughts, remembering the reality of my life that I had her, their Ammi, the mother of my children to take care of them when I am away from home to work.

Soon, I saw the bus approaching and relief washed over me as I realized I would reach home soon to engulf my kids in bear hugs.

I came near our home. The name 'Raunak Manzil' was written in bold letters. I smiled that our home has indeed gained its meaning- the 'House of Joy' in its true sense because of Arihaa- the mother of my children.

It was rather late at night, past the children's bedtime, when children were asleep, as I thought so, tip-toing silently in the quiet home. Arihaa was awake as always, a habit we both had if anyone was not home.

I could hear the faint voice of Mira- our smallest one and half year toddler, who refused to sleep without me.

With footsteps approaching me, I heard Arihaa yawning before seeing her enter the dining area. She was tired and sleepy as well.

"Assalaam-Alaikum! Khana laga du?" (Should I set the dinner?) Arihaa asked, seeing me.

"Waalaikum-Salaam! I ate already -" my sentence hung in the air as Vihaan came down running towards me.

"Assalaam-Alaikum! Mere bacche.  (my baby) Why are you not asleep?" I asked with concern filled eyes, looking down at our son.

"I knew you would be back soon, Baba" Yousuf skillfully dodged my question as always while making himself comfortable beside me on the sofa.

"Pehele salam karo" (Offer your greetings first) I reminded him and he followed.

His mother chimed in, "Yousuf, Abbu thak gaye hain na (Your father is tired). Come here, let's sleep now. "