Journey of Sumeet

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PROLOGUE In the tapestry of life, there are individuals who radiate warmth, embody kindness, and leave an indelible mark on our hearts. Sumeet, a humble and loving lady, is one such soul who has traversed a path less traveled, overcoming challenges with grace and resilience. Her journey, chronicled in these pages, unveils a life filled with emotions, joys, and a deep understanding of the world around her. Born into a small family in a modest chaal, Sumeet's upbringing was colored by the myriad challenges life presented. The constraints that surrounded her, be it economic or societal, did not deter her spirit. While her academic journey may have been average, Sumeet's unwavering determination and relentless efforts allowed her to make the most of her circumstances. She strived to shine a light upon her dreams, lighting the way forward amidst the shadows. From the very beginning, it was evident that Sumeet had a unique perspective on the world. Her emotional understanding, her innate ability to feel deeply, set her apart. This empathetic nature became the compass that guided her actions, leading her to extend a helping hand to those in need. Whether it was comforting a friend in distress or supporting a cause close to her heart, Sumeet embraced the role of a compassionate ally, touching lives with her selflessness. As we delve into the chapters of Sumeet's life, we witness the tapestry of emotions she weaves. Her joys, sorrows, Page 2 of 53

triumphs, and struggles paint a vivid picture of a life well- lived, full of meaningful connections and personal growth. Through the lens of her experiences, we gain insights into the resilience of the human spirit and the power of love and compassion to navigate the complexities of existence. While Sumeet may appear to be an ordinary lady to the world, for me, as her husband, she is truly extraordinary. Her ability to face adversity with a smile, her unwavering dedication to her loved ones, and her unwavering commitment to making a positive impact in the world make her a source of inspiration. She has enriched my life in countless ways, and I am honored to share her story with the world. In turning the pages of this book, we embark on a journey of discovery, guided by the unwavering spirit of Sumeet. We witness the power of resilience, the strength of love, and the beauty of embracing one's true self. It is my hope that as you delve into these chapters, you find inspiration, solace, and a renewed appreciation for the extraordinary potential that resides within each of us. May the chapters of Sumeet's life ignite a spark within your own heart, encouraging you to embrace life's challenges with open arms, love unconditionally, and weave a beautiful tapestry of your own existence. With love, Jaswinder Page 3 of 53

:: My Life Chapters :: Chapter 1: The Upbringing. Chapter 2. Those days In chaal of Dudheswar. Chapter 3. My Education. Chapter 4. My Summer vacation. Chapter 5. My Marriage. Chapter 6. From conceiving to bringing the child to the world. Chapter 7. Dreadful times. Chapter 8. Disastrous day. Chapter 9. Bumpy roads of life. Page 4 of 53

Chapter 1: The Upbringing I was born on a humid day, the 25th of June, 1981 It might be about 28 to 30°C, quite windy and possibly it was also raining heavily on that day, in a humble neighborhood known as Dudheshwar, nestled within the bustling city of Ahmedabad in the state of Gujarat, India. Our home was in a small lane, affectionately called a \"chaal\" by the locals – Ashokpura chaal, where life thrived with its own unique rhythm. In this modest abode, I was welcomed into the world by a remarkable woman, my great lady, who possessed both inner and outer beauty. She would be the guiding light in my life, instilling within me the values and habits that would shape my character. Despite our lack of material abundance, she ensured that I received the best upbringing one could hope for. The key reason, why I admire her, is due to the fact she was beautiful & proudly speaking I resemble her. My eyes looks like her, when I laugh, also her innocence is what I like the most. Amidst the challenges and hardships that life presented us, our home was a sanctuary, even if it was not our own. We may not have had much in terms of possessions, but we were rich in love and care. My great lady, with her unwavering spirit and resourcefulness, made sure that all our concerns were met, reminding me that it's not the circumstances we are born into, but our determination to rise above them that truly defines us. Eventhough in her life, she Page 5 of 53

only dreamed to have her own home. She was truly devotee and would always recite the name of Waheguru. Her day started with early morning after the early activities, reciting Japji sahib till the evening Reheras sahib, not a single day I have seen that she was not connected to the name of Waheguru, a determined lady, reciting the name of Waheguru, what we called as “Gurusimran”, may that might be one of the reason I got this name. Names have a peculiar way of shaping our identity, of becoming intertwined with our very being. For me, eventhough my name was kept as “Gurusimran” after the procession, but never in my life I felt I am being called as as “Gurusimran”, I was always called by the name “Sumeet”. My name, \"Sumeet,\" carried a weight that was both a burden and a source of confusion. It was a name that I, as a young girl, resented, as it was commonly associated with boys. The story behind my name held a mix of irony and chance, weaving a tale that I would carry with me throughout my life. As I took my first breaths in this world, my father bestowed upon me the name \"Sumeet.\" Little did he know the impact it would have on my journey. In those early days, a kitchen mixer had gained popularity, bearing the same name. It was a coincidence that would forever be linked to my identity. The naming of a child is often a collective decision, influenced by family members and their perceptions of the world. In my case, it was my cousin brother, older and wiser, who first uttered the name \"Sumeet\" upon seeing my tiny Page 6 of 53

form. A name that resonated with my father, a name that he believed held promise and significance. But for me, the name Sumeet became a burden, an unwelcome companion throughout my life. I resented the fact that it was a name typically associated with boys, and I yearned for a name that would reflect my own femininity. It became a constant source of confusion and explanation whenever I introduced myself to strangers, forever having to clarify that Sumeet was, indeed, a female name. Over the years, I realized that my name was not just a label, but a part of my identity that I could embrace and redefine. I found solace in the fact that names have the power to evolve with us, carrying the stories and experiences that shape our character. Despite the initial resistance I felt, I began to appreciate the uniqueness of my name, recognizing that it held a tale that was entirely my own. In a world that often tries to categorize us, names can become both a shield and a sword. They carry with them preconceived notions and judgments, forcing us to constantly prove our worth beyond the limitations imposed by a few letters strung together. But as I grew older, I discovered that my name was not a limitation; it was an opportunity to challenge assumptions and break through stereotypes. Page 7 of 53

In every interaction, I learned to stand tall and assert my identity, ensuring that my name would be a testament to the strength and resilience I possessed. It became a badge of honor, a reminder that I was more than a label, more than a gendered expectation. With each explanation I provided, I carved a space for myself in a world that often attempted to define me. And so, the name Sumeet, once a source of disdain, became a symbol of empowerment. It taught me to embrace my uniqueness, to challenge societal norms, and to never be confined by the expectations placed upon me. As my journey unfolded, I learned that a name is not just a collection of letters; it is an opportunity to redefine ourselves, to leave our mark on the world and rewrite the stories that others may have written for us. And thus, my upbringing, intertwined with the story of my name, laid the foundation for a life filled with resilience, determination, and the unwavering belief that I could be more than society's limited expectations. Little did I know that this realization was only the beginning of a journey that would lead me to discover the true essence of my being. From a young age, I displayed an innate sensitivity, empathizing with the sorrows of others and feeling their pain as if it were my own. This emotional depth allowed me to connect with people on a profound level, extending a helping hand whenever and wherever I could. It was a quality that would shape my journey in ways I could not yet comprehend. Page 8 of 53

In the tapestry of my life, there were two remarkable women whose love and affection would leave an indelible mark on my heart. They were my maternal grandmother and my grandmother, my pillars of strength and my source of unwavering support. Their presence in my life would shape my character and guide me through the labyrinth of challenges that lay ahead. In the symphony of siblinghood, my younger sister Puneet played a significant role. She was not only my sister but also my confidante, my partner in crime, and my unwavering support. We shared our secrets, our dreams, and our laughter, finding solace in each other's company. And then there was my younger brother Taran, a soul whom I cherished with a love that transcended the boundaries of mere siblinghood. He was my little one, my precious gift from the universe, born nine years after me. In his eyes, I saw innocence and possibility, and I made it my mission to be his protector, his guide, and his confidante. I poured all my love into nurturing his dreams, encouraging him to reach for the stars, just as I had been encouraged. In the tapestry of my upbringing, these bonds formed the threads that wove together the fabric of my being. They instilled within me a sense of belonging, an unwavering support system that would fortify me in times of adversity. My journey was not one embarked upon in solitude, but in Page 9 of 53

the company of these remarkable souls who left an indelible impression upon my heart. Little did I know that the tapestry of my life would continue to evolve, revealing new patterns, new colors, and new chapters yet to be written. But within the depths of my being, I carried the As I navigated the trials and tribulations of adolescence, education became both a beacon of hope and a hurdle to overcome. Despite the financial constraints that loomed over my family, I managed to complete my 12th standard, or matriculation, with unwavering determination. I was driven by a hunger for knowledge and a thirst for a brighter future. The pursuit of higher education, however, demanded financial resources that were beyond our means. Undeterred, I embarked on a path that would not only support my dreams but also provide an opportunity for others to learn. I started teaching young children, sharing my knowledge and earning a modest income that would fund my university studies. Every day, I would cycle to the university, the wind in my hair and a fire in my heart. The road was long and arduous, but I knew that this was just a stepping stone towards a future I envisioned for myself. My dreams went beyond academic achievements; they encompassed finding a life partner who would be a pillar of support and a source of love. Page 10 of 53

With hope as my compass and resilience as my armor, I faced each day with unwavering determination. The struggles I encountered along the way only fueled my desire to succeed, for I knew that my dreams were not just my own; they were the culmination of the sacrifices made by those who came before me. As I pedaled through the streets of Ahmedabad, my heart filled with the anticipation of what lay ahead. I carried with me the dreams of a girl who had known adversity, felt the weight of the world's sorrows, and yearned for a life that held meaning and purpose. With each revolution of the bicycle wheels, I propelled myself closer to the realization of my dreams, holding onto the belief that one day, I would find not only success but also love. Little did I know that the path ahead would be filled with unexpected twists and turns, leading me to places I had never imagined. But within the depths of my soul, a flickering flame of hope burned bright, illuminating the darkest corners of my journey. And so, with the innocence of youth and the resilience of a dreamer, I embarked upon. Page 11 of 53

Chapter 2. Those days In chaal of Dudheswar Together, we embarked on countless adventures, one of which was our quest to taste the famous Sai Gola, a sweet and icy treat that cost a mere about 25 paisa. Despite the challenges we faced in procuring the necessary funds, we managed to savor every delightful moment, relishing not just the gola but the bond we shared. Outside the confines of the school, my neighborhood offered a canvas of childhood games and laughter. Satola, the game of seven stones, and stapu, the rhythmic hopping of a hopscotch board, were the favorites that brought us together. The lanes of Dudheshwar Road echoed with our laughter, as we navigated the challenges of the games with the exuberance only children possess. Amidst the routine of everyday life, there were moments that shone brighter, nights that carried a different kind of magic. Navratri, the festival dedicated to the worship of the divine feminine, held a special place in my heart. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the night sky became a symphony of colors and swirling skirts. The rhythmic beats of garba music beckoned, drawing us into a whirlwind of joy and celebration. For nine consecutive nights, I danced, my feet tracing patterns of devotion, my heart filled with a profound sense of connection to the nine goddesses, worshipping them during these nine days, dancing on the every rhythm of the garba music. Page 12 of 53

Music was an integral part of my life, the soundtrack that accompanied my journey. I developed a deep appreciation for Bollywood songs, particularly those from the vibrant decades of the 80s and 90s. Their melodies and lyrics resonated with my soul, weaving tales of love, longing, and the myriad emotions that define the human experience. I treasured my collection of these songs, nurturing it like a precious treasure. However, life has a way of teaching us lessons, often through unexpected means. One fateful day, my collection of beloved songs was shattered, demolished by the hands of my own father. It was a moment of heartbreak, a rupture in the tapestry of my memories. The loss of those cherished melodies left an ache within me, a longing for the past and a reminder that nothing in life is truly permanent. And so, my upbringing was a tapestry woven with moments of curiosity, connection, and loss. Each thread represented a fragment of my identity, a brushstroke that painted the portrait of who I was becoming. As I walked through the corridors of childhood, I held onto these memories, embracing the lessons they taught me and cherishing the experiences that shaped my soul. Little did I know that this tapestry would continue to unravel, revealing new patterns, new colors, and new chapters yet to be written. Page 13 of 53

Chapter 3. My Education The school gates swung open, welcoming me into a world of learning, discovery, and endless possibilities. Going to school was an adventure in itself for an average student like me, a place where I found both joy and challenges that shaped my young mind. While I may not have been the brightest student, my interest in academics was tempered with a sense of curiosity that fueled my desire to explore the world around me. Within the walls of my school, a peculiar fascination gripped my heart whenever I encountered the animals that were caged in the courtyard. Their presence was a captivating reminder of the vastness of nature, even within the confines of an educational institution. The rabbits nibbling on grass and carrots, and the tortoise plodding along at its own pace, became my companions during recess. I delighted in their simple existence, finding solace in the gentle connection we shared. But even as I was drawn to these creatures, a sense of trepidation held me back from venturing too close. There was a fear, an unexplainable hesitation that kept me at a distance. Nevertheless, their presence remained a cherished memory, etched into the tapestry of my upbringing. Growing up, education was a constant struggle in my life. Financial problems haunted our family, and it greatly Page 14 of 53

affected my schooling. I vividly remember the day my parents made the difficult decision to transfer me and my siblings from Rachana School, due to its high fees, to Aroma School, a more affordable option. The move marked the beginning of a new chapter in my educational journey. Aroma School was considered an average institution in terms of education quality. Although it wasn't the best school in town, it was the best option available to us at the time. As I stepped into the halls of Aroma School, I carried with me a sense of uncertainty. I had never been exceptional in my studies, and Aroma only reinforced my lack of enthusiasm for education. My academic performance in Aroma School was mediocre at best. I struggled to keep up with the curriculum and often found myself disinterested in the subjects being taught. The school lacked the resources and teaching standards I had hoped for, but I persevered nonetheless. I knew that education was my ticket to a better future, so I pushed myself to overcome the challenges that came my way. Despite my lukewarm experience at Aroma School, I managed to pass my matriculation exams and secure a place in university. I had decided to pursue a Bachelor's degree in Arts (B.A) and was accepted into L.D. College in Ahmedabad. It was an opportunity that filled me with both excitement and anxiety. Page 15 of 53

University life presented its own set of challenges. As I embarked on this new academic journey, I faced the pressing need to support myself financially. To make ends meet and cover my expenses, I took up a job as a private tutor for primary school students. The income I earned from these coaching sessions not only helped me pay off my scooty loan but also provided some support to my family. Balancing work and studies was no easy task. There were nights when exhaustion threatened to overcome me, and doubts crept into my mind. However, I refused to let these hardships deter me from my goal. I knew that education was my way out of the limitations that financial constraints had imposed on my family. With determination and perseverance, I successfully completed my Bachelor's degree. The road had been rough, filled with countless sacrifices and obstacles. Yet, as I stood on the precipice of this achievement, I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. Despite all the struggles, I had emerged victorious, armed with the knowledge and skills that would shape my future. My education had taught me resilience and the value of hard work. It had been a journey of self-discovery, a path that led me to realize my own potential. While Aroma School may not have provided me with the best education, it instilled within me the drive to seek knowledge beyond its walls. Page 16 of 53

As I closed the chapter on my Bachelor's degree, I knew that this was only the beginning. Education was no longer just a means to an end for me; it had become an integral part of who I was. With each step forward, I carried the lessons learned from my humble beginnings, fueling my determination to create a better future for myself and those around me. Page 17 of 53

Chapter 4. My Summer vacation Every summer vacation held a special meaning for me, for it meant that I would embark on a journey to my maternal grandmother's house in Delhi. It was a time filled with anticipation and excitement, as my siblings and I looked forward to the adventures that awaited us. Travelling from Ahmedabad to Delhi was an adventure in itself, especially since it was our only chance to explore beyond the boundaries of our daily lives. Our journey to Delhi by train was always a thrilling experience. We would eagerly board the train, our hearts brimming with excitement. As the train chugged along, we would gaze out of the window, watching the ever-changing landscape pass by. The rhythmic sound of the wheels on the tracks provided a soothing background melody as we chatted, laughed, and played games with fellow passengers. Leaving the familiar sights of Ahmedabad behind, we would arrive in Delhi, greeted by the hustle and bustle of the city. Yet, nestled amidst the chaos, my grandmother's house stood as a sanctuary of love. As I stepped foot into her home, I was enveloped in a warm embrace, a cocoon of love that offered solace and reassurance. Those precious summer days spent at my grandmother's house were filled with laughter, mischief, and the joy of being surrounded by my cousins. We would gather together, Page 18 of 53

immersing ourselves in the world of indoor games, creating memories that would stand the test of time. In those carefree moments, the weight of societal restrictions imposed upon girls felt distant and inconsequential. Our spirits soared freely, unfettered by the expectations that society placed upon us. While the days were marked by endless play and exploration, there were moments of quiet reflection as well. One of my fondest memories was our visits to the Gurudwara Sahib, a place that held a special place in my heart. The moment we entered its premises, the air would be infused with devotion and tranquility. We would join the congregation, offering our prayers and seeking solace in the sacred space. It was within those sacred walls that I felt a deep connection to my faith, finding comfort in the rituals and teachings that nurtured my soul. But it wasn't just the spiritual aspect that made our summer vacations memorable. The culinary delights of Delhi added a flavorful touch to our adventures. The taste of chole bhature and paneer, savored in the company of my loved ones, remains etched in my memory. These simple pleasures brought us together, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences that would bind us forever. And how could I forget the tantalizing allure of street food? Aloo chaat and other mouthwatering delicacies became synonymous with the carefree days of my childhood, leaving an everlasting impression on my taste buds. Page 19 of 53

While our summer vacations were primarily centered around visiting our grandmother's house and spending time with our cousins, there was a sense of freedom and exploration that accompanied each trip. Delhi, with its rich history, vibrant culture, and bustling markets, offered endless opportunities for discovery. We would venture out with our family, exploring historical sites, visiting museums, and immersing ourselves in the city's vibrant atmosphere. These excursions expanded our horizons, exposing us to new perspectives and fostering a sense of curiosity about the world. As the summer days slowly slipped away, we would bid farewell to our grandmother and the enchanting city of Delhi. The train journey back to Ahmedabad was filled with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude for the experiences we had shared. Our hearts were filled with cherished memories that would forever remain etched in our minds. Looking back, those summer vacations were more than just a break from school or a change of scenery. They were an opportunity for growth, exploration, and the strengthening of family bonds. Each trip to Delhi allowed me to break free from the confines of my daily routine and embrace the joys of childhood. It was during those summer vacations that I learned the importance of family, the beauty of cultural diversity, and the endless possibilities that lay beyond the boundaries of my hometown. Those summers shaped me into the person I am today—a woman who values the power of family, cherishes shared Page 20 of 53

experiences, and embraces the beauty of the world around her. They laid the foundation for my journey of self-discovery and taught me that even the simplest moments can leave a lasting impact. Page 21 of 53

Chapter 5. My Marriage Marriage, a cherished dream of every girl, held a special place in my heart. Growing up in an average family in a chaal (a residential community) in Ahmedabad, within the Punjabi community, the idea of marriage became prominent as soon as I reached adolescence. It seemed that as soon as a girl reached a certain age, both her family and society would set their eyes on finding her a suitable match. My parents, like many others, became actively involved in searching for a groom for me. I shared the common desires of every girl—to find a groom who would be affectionate, loving, and from a good family background. But I was aware that my family faced financial struggles, and every paisa (rupee) held great value for us. My mother worked tirelessly to make ends meet and provide for me, my sister, and my younger brother. Their efforts were fueled by the hope of securing a better future for her daughter. As I dreamed of my wedding day, I envisioned myself looking the best I could be. I wanted to radiate happiness and confidence as I embarked on this new chapter of my life. However, the constraints of our financial situation added an extra layer of complexity to my aspirations. I knew that the path to finding the perfect groom and planning a beautiful wedding would require careful navigation within our means. Page 22 of 53

In the midst of this search for a suitable match, I was conscious of my own desires and the importance of compatibility. I yearned for a partner who would understand and support me, and with whom I could build a strong and loving bond. My dreams extended beyond the superficial aspects of a wedding; they encompassed the lifelong journey of companionship and partnership that awaited me. As my parents, accompanied by one of my cousins, embarked on a journey to Vadodara to meet the prospective groom, anticipation filled the air. Upon their return, my mother eagerly briefed me about the boy they had seen. She described him as a descent, tall, and good-looking individual with a solid educational background. Her words ignited a sense of excitement within me as she described the way he looked and behaved, and therefore I eagerly awaited the opportunity to meet him in person. On the 9th of March 2003, I set foot in Vadodara, marking the beginning of a new chapter in my life. As I met the boy for the first time, a whirlwind of emotions engulfed me— feelings so profound that they defied expression. Every moment of the meeting was charged with excitement, as if destiny had conspired to bring us together. The encounter left me yearning for a positive outcome—an affirmative answer that would lead us closer to our union. Days turned into weeks, and on one fateful day, we received the much-anticipated \"Yes.\" It was a moment of pure joy and elation as we took a step forward in solidifying our Page 23 of 53

connection. With the confirmation in place, discussions about the wedding day began to take shape. After much contemplation and careful consideration, we finalized the engagement date as the 30th of June 2003, with the marriage to follow on the 1st of July 2003. As the calendar days counted down, I experienced a constant fluttering in my stomach—an indescribable feeling that words could hardly capture. Every passing day brought me closer to the realization that my life was about to change in ways I could only imagine. In the days leading up to the wedding, my fiancé and I indulged in the simple pleasures of courtship. We watched movies together, with the first film we enjoyed being \"Saathiya.\" This movie served as a catalyst, igniting the flames of companionship and setting the stage for our journey as a couple. The anticipation of the impending nuptials filled each moment with a mix of excitement, nervousness, and boundless joy. It was a time of profound growth and self- discovery as I prepared to embark on the path of marriage. The next chapters of my autobiography will reveal the beautiful moments, challenges, and transformations that awaited me as I ventured into the realm of wedded life. As the month of July in the year 2003 drew near, my heart brimmed with anticipation. The time had come for my Page 24 of 53

marriage, a significant milestone that would be adorned with a series of ceremonies and processions. Throughout my life, I had nurtured dreams of these grand occasions—imagining myself adorned with intricate mehendi designs, preparing in the finest beauty parlors, and donning the most exquisite dresses to look resplendent on my special day. However, due to financial constraints and certain restrictions imposed by my parents, some of my cherished dreams were not realized. The elaborate mehendi ceremony, which I had envisioned as a canvas of intricate patterns covering my hands and legs, remained a distant dream. Instead, with a heavy heart, I settled for a simple mehendi design—a modest representation of my husband's initial, \"J.\" Though it wasn't what I had imagined, it held profound significance for me, becoming a symbol of our bond. As the wedding festivities commenced, the air filled with excitement and anticipation. The entire month was an amalgamation of vibrant ceremonies and joyous celebrations. My marriage became a momentous occasion for my entire family, drawing relatives from near and far to the city of Vadodara, where the celebrations took place. Amongst the countless blessings and affection showered upon me, the love and warmth I received from my paternal grandfather and grandmother held a special place in my heart. Their presence added an extra layer of joy and significance to the occasion. Page 25 of 53

Every moment of my wedding day remains etched in my memory, evoking a sense of joy and nostalgia. However, as with any event, there were imperfections amidst the beauty. The photographer, unfortunately, failed to capture the essence of the day adequately, resulting in poorly taken photographs. Life, like the moon, has its patches of imperfections, but it is these imperfections that add character and depth to our journey. The imperfections of my wedding serve as a reminder that perfection lies not in flawless execution but in the cherished moments and the love shared between families. Nevertheless, amidst these flaws, there was a shining gem—a joint photograph of both our families. This image holds a special place in my heart, reminiscent of the ending scene of the movie \"Hum Saath Saath Hain,\" where unity and togetherness prevail. Page 26 of 53

Chapter 6. From conceiving to bringing the child to the world After the grand celebration of our wedding, I found myself immersed in the bliss of married life, cherishing each moment spent with my loving and caring life partner. Stepping into a new home after the marriage, following the Sikh traditions and rituals, filled me with an indescribable sense of joy. I was eager to embark on this new journey, understanding and discovering each other, all the while feeling a bittersweet sensation of leaving behind my childhood home—the place where I was raised alongside my dear sister, loving brother, and my father. I referred to my childhood home as my mother's home because it was my mother who had instilled in me the values and cultural understanding that would shape my life. She had worked tirelessly to nurture the qualities of a good daughter, aware of the societal limitations placed upon girls. This cultural upbringing, which can be viewed from different perspectives, had imprinted deeply on my being, and as a result, I held immense love and respect for my mother. Although I felt a twinge of sadness as I left my childhood home, destined to create a new life in my marital home, God has a way of bringing unexpected laughter into our lives. During one such moment, my uncle unintentionally provided comic relief when his black-dyed beard ran in rivulets due to the humid weather, presenting an amusing sight. These little Page 27 of 53

incidents of joy reminded me that life is filled with both change and amusement. Adjusting to married life and leaving behind the familiar comfort of my parents' home, where I had spent twenty-one formative years, proved to be a gradual process. The notion that the new house I had entered was now my home required time to establish bonds, understand one another, and cultivate love. It wasn't easy to forget the love and care I had received from my parents, especially my mother, with whom I shared an undeniable resemblance, along with the fond memories of my beloved sister and brother. However, as they say in Indian Bollywood movies, \"the show must go on,\" and so, my life began anew in this second phase. Following the cultural processions that lasted for three days, we started with our new loving Journey on the 3rd of July 2003, which both wanted to have to understand each other and made it a remembrance forever. Our first destination was the Darbar Sahib in Amritsar, where we humbly bowed before Guru Maharaj, expressing gratitude for blessing us with a wonderful life partner and seeking blessings for the journey ahead. From there, we continued our travels via Chandigarh, making our way to Shimla—a place where we sought solace and shared beautiful moments, strengthening our bond, and making promises for the future. The blissful time spent in the cold Shimla eventually came to an end on the 21st of July 2003, marking our return to our new home city. I couldn't help but wish that our time together Page 28 of 53

in Shimla would never end, but as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Nevertheless, this marked the beginning of a new phase in my life—a new family that we would create together. The anticipation of starting a family grew within us, as we eagerly awaited the arrival of a new life—a child who would bring more joy and completeness to our lives. Our love for each other strengthened, and we embraced the responsibilities and challenges that lay ahead. We embarked on this path with hope, faith, and an unwavering belief in the beauty of parenthood. Little did we know the remarkable journey that awaited us— the trials, the triumphs, and the transformation that would unfold as we ventured from conceiving a child to bringing a precious life into this world. After a few months of marital bliss, my husband and I found ourselves settled in a room adorned with Feng Shui decorations and mud lamps at the entrance. Though these elements brought me a sense of comfort and positive energy, my husband wasn't quite at ease with them. Nevertheless, we continued to build our love and deepen our bond, cherishing the best moments of our lives together. At the beginning of 2004, due to a job change for my husband, we moved to a new city called Bharuch, approximately 80 kilometers away from Vadodara. We found Page 29 of 53

a small two-room rental home, and our landlords were friendly and accommodating. However, amidst our newfound stability, we felt an undeniable desire to bring a child into our lives, to strengthen our bond further and embrace the joys of parenthood. In March 2004, with the grace of Guru Maharaj, I received the blessed news of pregnancy. However, as the gynecologist we consulted was located in Vadodara, my husband thought it would be best for me to stay with either my mother or mother-in-law, especially since it was our first child. Although I longed to be with my husband and share every moment of this journey together, including the feelings and experiences that would accompany my pregnancy, I went to my mother's home after celebrating our first anniversary on July 1, 2004. Yet, in August, I couldn't resist the longing to be with my husband, so I traveled to Bharuch along with my sister. The reunion with my husband was a moment of desperation for me. There were countless things I wanted to share with him, despite our frequent phone conversations. We spoke at length on the day of my arrival in Bharuch. However, during the night as I slept, something unexpected happened—the rupture of the amniotic membrane. I sensed that things were not proceeding as expected, as it was still too early for the birth of my child—only the seventh month of pregnancy. Suddenly, time was of the essence. With the support of my mother, we rushed to the hospital where the landlord, who Page 30 of 53

was aware of the gynecologist, played a crucial role in assisting us. It was an emotionally and physically challenging time for me. My husband informed the relatives, and my mother-in-law hurriedly traveled from Vadodara to be with us. Despite abnormalities and complications throughout that night, my daughter was born—a beautiful, delicate baby girl with a lovely pink complexion. The joy of becoming a mother filled my heart, but the journey ahead was not going to be easy. Born prematurely, my daughter faced various health issues that proved difficult to diagnose in Bharuch, given the city's limited medical instruments and facilities for preterm infants. Thus, we made the decision to shift to Vadodara. Without wasting any time, my husband took charge, and we moved to Krishna Child Critical Center in Vadodara. Our baby was admitted to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) and received constant attention and care. After numerous tests, she was diagnosed with a condition known as Patent Ductus Arteriosus (PDA)—a condition where the opening between two major blood vessels in the heart fails to close after birth. In the womb, this opening, known as the ductus arteriosus, is a normal part of the baby's circulatory system. Every day was a mix of hope and fear for me as I witnessed the fluctuating emotions tied to my daughter's fragile condition. After a challenging struggle spanning 21 days, my precious baby girl left us. That day was filled with sheer Page 31 of 53

devastation and immense pain, overwhelming me with a sense of dread. It was an agonizing experience for my husband and me to bid her farewell and lay her to rest. The loss we experienced was indescribable, leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill. The grief weighed heavily on our hearts, and the pain seemed unbearable. Yet, within our sorrow, we clung to the love we shared, finding strength in one another as we navigated the difficult journey of healing and acceptance. Our daughter's short presence in our lives forever changed us, teaching us profound lessons about the fragility of life, the depths of love, and the resilience of the human spirit. Although she couldn't stay with us physically, her spirit and the lessons she imparted would remain etched in our hearts, guiding us through the challenges that lay ahead on our journey. After the heartbreaking loss of our first child, I was shattered and devastated. But my husband, ever the pillar of strength, held my hand and helped me rise again. The memories of our precious baby continued to haunt me, but together we found the courage to face the world once more. After a year of sorrowful journey, a glimmer of hope appeared—a second chance at conceiving a child. This time, our hearts were filled with both joy and concern. Page 32 of 53

We returned to Vadodara, surrounded by our united family. My mother-in-law took extra care of me, and regular doctor's check-ups became a routine. Throughout the pregnancy, I didn't feel quite myself. Hormonal changes often bring about unusual aversions to food, and I was no exception. My husband, ever attentive, would leave the office early and ride his two-wheeler to bring me fresh fruit juice. His care and consideration filled my heart with warmth, and together we navigated the delicate path of pregnancy. Around the sixth month, concerns arose, but timely actions from the doctor averted any potential disaster. However, the road ahead was still long, stretching into the ninth month. Each day felt like a milestone, and I poured my heart and soul into ensuring the well-being of this precious life within me. My legs swelled, and I experienced continuous vomiting beyond the sixth month—symptoms that were not usual but bore the weight of a mother's love and determination. With every passing day, my husband and I grew more determined and confident. We braved the challenges with unwavering resolve. Finally, on June 25, 2006, in the eighth month, the day arrived when my labor pains began. Although we took extra precautions this time around, the nerves and concerns were still present. But with faith and courage, we faced the journey ahead. The momentous occasion of delivery arrived, and my child was placed in the hands of the doctor. My gynecologist, holding my baby in her hands, asked me, \"Would you not like Page 33 of 53

to know if you've given birth to a boy or a girl?\" Emotions and concerns swirled within me as I replied, \"If you tell me, I will listen.\" Desperation filled my heart, longing to know the gender of my child. And then the doctor uttered the words I yearned to hear, \"You have given birth to a boy.\" It was a victory, a battle won! Yet, the battle continued as my new baby boy was placed in the incubator due to his prematurity. But this time, the situation was better, and after three days, our child was handed over to us. Within a day, we were both discharged from the hospital, ready to embark on a new chapter of our lives. Our family was complete, and the overwhelming joy filled our hearts. Truly, the journey of conceiving and giving birth to a child is far from easy for any woman. I had been blessed with a precious baby boy—a world unto himself. My time and attention were now devoted entirely to him, for he had come into our lives after immense sorrow and pain. Sleepless nights and moments of forgetfulness became part of my reality as I dedicated myself wholeheartedly to my little bundle of joy. But through it all, the love and joy he brought made every sacrifice worthwhile. Our journey as a family had begun, and I embraced the profound responsibility of nurturing and guiding our son, grateful for the gift of motherhood and the strength that had carried us through. Page 34 of 53

Chapter 7. Dreadful times My mother, the pillar of my life, was a woman I cherished deeply. We shared a bond that extended beyond mere mother-daughter affection. With my resemblance to her, I felt an even stronger connection. Yet, she had endured a life of misery and hardship, a life that seemed undeserving of a beautiful soul like hers. Despite the challenges she faced, she held onto her faith in Waheguru (the almighty) and regularly sought solace in prayer and visits to the Gurudwara Sahib. However, fate had written a tale of terrible hardships for this virtuous woman. It was towards the end of 2015 when we received devastating news. Following some tests for a minor issue, it was revealed that my mother was battling ovarian cancer. The news was like a thunderclap, shattering our world into a thousand pieces. The cancer had progressed to the second stage, affecting not just the ovaries but also neighboring areas. The doctor predicted that she had approximately one and a half years left to live. Our hearts were heavy with pain, but we resolved to seek appropriate treatment and fight this battle together. As per the doctor's recommendation, my mother underwent a series of chemotherapy treatments. Each session came with its own set of adverse effects, ranging from nausea and vomiting to diarrhea or constipation. The most distressing consequence was the loss of her hair, including her scalp, eyebrows, and eyelashes. This was particularly heart- wrenching for my mother, a devout Sikh who had always Page 35 of 53

adhered to the tradition of not cutting her hair. Witnessing her transformation into a bald figure was like a cruel twist of fate, stripping her of her former beauty. It was during this time that the question \"why our mother?\" echoed constantly within myself and my siblings. Amidst my mother's ongoing treatment, another question loomed over us: what would life be like for my brother and father after her passing? Both my sister and I were deeply concerned about their future. Consequently, in the midst of this painful period, we began the search for a suitable girl for my brother, who was already 25 years old. Within our Sikh community, my father found a prospective match, but it came with its own challenge—convincing my mother to accept the proposal. We began extolling the virtues of the girl to my mother, with my father tirelessly explaining and pleading with her. My husband, who had established a loving bond with my mother, joined the efforts to gain her acceptance. Eventually, after much persuasion, we were able to secure my mother's approval. The marriage was decided upon, and we aimed to expedite the process, fully aware that time was running out. We wanted my mother to witness her son's marriage before her time was up—a dream every mother holds dear. My siblings, my husband, and my sister's husband rallied together, transforming the marriage into a reality. On May 16, 2017, my mother's marriage took place. We prayed incessantly to Waheguru, hoping against hope that my mother would be able to witness this joyous occasion Page 36 of 53

before her demise. The marriage became a bittersweet formality, tinged with the pain on my mother's face as she fought against the disease, desperately wishing to conquer time so that her son could have a good life after she was gone. After the wedding, my mother's health deteriorated rapidly. The cancer had already reached its fourth and final stage, manifesting symptoms such as loss of appetite, fatigue, fever, pain, and bleeding. She grew weaker by the day, and her energy diminished to the point where she had no strength left. Coughing became a frequent occurrence, and the doctor at the Rajasthan hospital where she was admitted suggested continuing her treatment from the comfort of home. With great effort and pain, we agreed to bring her back home for the remainder of her days. On the fourth day of June 2017, my mother experienced difficulty breathing. I rushed to a nearby medical store with my husband to fetch a steam inhaler, hoping it would alleviate her pain. However, upon my return, my worst fears were realized—it was all over for my mother. The steam inhaler would no longer be of use to her. I was aware that she was leaving us, but the moment was agonizing. I felt as though I had lost her warmth, her affection, and her love forever. The bond between mother and daughter had been severed, leaving an indescribable void within me. According to Sikh customs, a woman who passes away with her husband still alive should be dressed as a bride before Page 37 of 53

being taken to the cremation grounds. As we dressed her, memories of her former beauty flooded my mind, causing my sister and me immeasurable pain. It was a heart-wrenching moment, but we summoned the strength to accompany her on her final journey to the cremation grounds. There, we bid her farewell, her mortal remains consumed by the flames. That night, my sister and I sat together, reminiscing about the ups and downs of our lives. We discussed the sacrifices she had made, the dreams she had forsaken, and the unwavering love she had showered upon us. It felt as though she was still with us, bestowing her blessings before embarking on her heavenly voyage. The dreadful times we endured during my mother's illness and subsequent passing left an indelible mark on our souls. Yet, amidst the sorrow and grief, I held onto the lessons she had taught me. She had shown me the true meaning of sacrifice, resilience, and unwavering love. I vowed to carry her spirit within me, cherishing her memory and living a life that would make her proud. I cannot be like her, but the fact I have a pride of being a resemblance like her. After the devastating loss of my mother, my husband and I were gradually settling into the rhythm of life, experiencing its inevitable ups and downs. Our only son was growing, and with the passage of time, the bitterness of my mother's demise slowly transformed into cherished memories of her. Her absence was deeply felt, but her love continued to resonate within us. Page 38 of 53

As life carried on, we found ourselves faced with new challenges. My father-in-law's health began to decline, and it was a cause for concern within the family. Despite his ailments, he remained a resilient and strong-willed individual whom I deeply admired. The way he had navigated through his own hardships and the fortitude with which he faced life's adversities were a constant source of inspiration to me. My father-in-law's life was characterized by struggle and perseverance. He overcame numerous challenges, including those forced upon him, and managed to pursue his education. The stories he shared with me, both his personal experiences and the events he had witnessed, were not only factual accounts but also valuable life lessons that left a lasting impact on my heart. His resilience and determination in the face of adversity shaped my perspective and taught me the value of perseverance. However, on the night of March 11, 2018, just nine months after my mother's passing, a dreadful incident unfolded. My father-in-law emerged from the washroom in great pain, his face drenched in perspiration. My husband immediately sensed that something was terribly wrong and called for help. In a matter of moments, his eyes began to close, and he started to lose consciousness. Filled with panic and desperation, we summoned an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital. Unfortunately, his third stroke proved to be fatal, and we found ourselves engulfed in profound grief. The head of our family was no longer with us, leaving a void that would be felt by all. Page 39 of 53

His life had been an inspiration not only to me but also to all those who knew him. Despite the struggles he endured throughout his existence, he remained steadfast in upholding his principles and values. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs, even in the face of immense challenges, left an indelible impression on my life. As his daughter-in-law, I felt a special connection to him, and I will forever cherish the stories he narrated, the experiences he shared, and the teachings he bestowed upon me. The passing of my father-in-law marked a sorrowful and grievous moment for our family. He had been the pillar of our household, a man of unwavering resolve. His departure left an irreplaceable void, but his legacy of strength and wisdom would continue to guide us. The memories of his remarkable life would forever remain etched in our hearts. The year – 2017 and 2018 are the dreadful times, which have tested my resilience and the resilience of my family. We have experienced heartbreak and loss, but we have also witnessed the incredible strength of the human spirit. My mother's absence and my father-in-law's passing have taught me the importance of cherishing our loved ones and embracing the valuable lessons they leave behind. The journey continues, and we honor their memory by carrying their love and wisdom within us as we navigate life's challenges. Page 40 of 53

Chapter 8. Disastrous day After enduring the heartbreak of my father-in-law's passing, life had yet more challenges in store for us. My husband received a transfer to Bengaluru, and amidst the excitement of a new city, we embarked on another chapter of our journey. Settling into our rented house in Electronic City, we marveled at its spaciousness and the beauty of its surroundings. The society premises were adorned with lush greenery, creating a serene and inviting atmosphere. It felt like a place where we could truly call home. To my delight, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law traveled all the way from Vadodara to visit us in Bengaluru. I knew the journey had been arduous for my mother-in-law, but I was grateful for her presence in our new city. We spent quality time together, exploring nearby places and even visiting the Gurudwara in Bengaluru. The joy my mother-in- law found in bonding with her beloved grandson, Angad, was evident and heartwarming. These moments became cherished memories, and amidst the challenges that lay ahead, they served as a reminder of the love and strength within our family. As we embarked on our new life in Bengaluru, we faced parallel challenges. Just over a year later, my husband's company informed him of a transfer to Mumbai. Although we had concerns about this change, we held onto the belief that these tough times would eventually pass. We found solace in the fact that Mumbai would bring us closer to Vadodara, Page 41 of 53

our hometown. During one of his sales journeys, my husband selected a house in Malad West, Mumbai. Through a video call, he showed me the house and sent pictures, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. It seemed that destiny was calling us to this new city. On the same day, my husband secured admission for our son in a nearby school, signaling a rapid transition towards our new chapter in Mumbai. With our furniture and belongings packed, we bid farewell to Bengaluru and embraced the bustling streets of Mumbai. Despite the frequent moves, we had grown accustomed to adapting to new cities, and this time was no different. Our new home in Malad West offered a sense of comfort and promise. The society premises were truly remarkable, and we found ourselves living among renowned TV artists. It was a fascinating experience to witness these television stars walking in our midst, adding a touch of glamour to our everyday lives. The society boasted amenities such as a swimming pool, nestled in the heart of the towering high-rise buildings. On weekends, my son and I enjoyed the refreshing respite of the pool, creating special memories of our time together. Throughout the year, the society organized cultural events to celebrate religious occasions such as Ganesh Chaturthi, Navratri, and Dussehra. These festivities brought the community together, fostering a sense of unity and camaraderie. We immersed ourselves in the vibrant atmosphere, reveling in the music, dance, and shared traditions. Life in Mumbai had its own charm, and we found Page 42 of 53

ourselves embracing the joys that came with residing in this vibrant city. Despite the initial challenges we faced, settling into Mumbai became a swift process. We discovered a sense of resilience within ourselves, drawing strength from the lessons learned during our previous relocations. Our journey continued, and the allure of Mumbai captivated us with its diverse culture and endless possibilities. The society became our extended family, and the experiences we shared formed an integral part of our story. The day that would forever be etched in my memory as the most disastrous day of my life arrived unexpectedly on December 22nd, 2019. It was a day filled with joy and excitement, as my family and I embarked on a planned outing. Little did we know that this day would turn into a nightmare, haunting us with its painful aftermath. Leading up to that fateful day, my siblings and I maintained a close connection, regularly chatting and sharing our lives with each other. I had been in touch with my brother, urging him to come to Mumbai and stay with me. He welcomed the idea, longing for a change of scenery and the opportunity to spend quality time together. Eventually, he arrived in Mumbai, and we embarked on several enjoyable outings, exploring the city and creating beautiful memories. Page 43 of 53

However, it was on that disastrous day when everything changed. We had decided to visit the Pagoda temple, located at Gorai Beach, a popular spot for locals in Mumbai. Knowing the heavy traffic in the city, my husband had rented an Activa scooter, hoping it would ease our travel. We set out after having breakfast, filled with anticipation for a delightful day ahead. Gorai Beach can be reached by two routes. One option is to take a longer road route, which usually takes about two hours due to traffic congestion. The other, shorter route involves crossing the backwaters via a ferry that operates regularly. We chose the latter, intending to save time and make the most of our day. With our Activa scooters, we boarded the ferry, excited about the adventure that awaited us. Upon reaching the Pagoda temple, we spent time immersed in its serene surroundings. We sat in contemplation, capturing beautiful moments in photographs that would later become bittersweet reminders of the events that unfolded. As the day progressed, we realized it was getting late, and we decided it was time to head back. My husband led the way, riding his scooter, with my son and sister-in-law as passengers. I sat behind my brother on the other scooter. Little did we know that tragedy lurked around the corner. A young man, heavily intoxicated, recklessly drove his Enfield motorcycle on the wrong side of the road. Unaware of the impending doom, my husband's scooter collided with the Page 44 of 53

oncoming bike. The impact was severe, causing my husband and son great harm. My sister-in-law managed to escape with minor injuries and scratches, but my son and husband bore the brunt of the collision. In the chaos and excruciating pain that ensued, my son lay on the road, screaming in agony, while my husband, struggling with his own injuries, mustered the strength to stand. Despite the intense pain, he managed to lift the Activa scooter off my son's leg, realizing the severity of his injuries. My son's foot was in a gruesome state, with flesh exposed and his tibia bone dislocated and broken. The sight was horrifying, and my heart sank. Amidst the chaos, a police officer arrived at the scene. We called for an ambulance, and with the help of the authorities, we managed to transport my son and husband to the nearest government hospital. However, upon arrival, we were confronted with a disheartening reality. The hospital lacked the necessary instruments and resources to properly diagnose and treat their injuries. In that critical moment, I had to make a difficult decision. Realizing the urgent need for specialized care, I made the painstaking choice to transfer my son and husband to a private hospital. The government hospital staff assisted me in preparing the necessary documents, understanding the gravity of the situation. Every passing minute felt like an eternity as I anxiously waited for the ambulance to arrive. Finally, with my son's agonizing screams piercing my heart, Page 45 of 53

we embarked on another arduous journey, traversing the congested streets of Mumbai. The government ambulance that transported us to the private Wockhardt hospital lacked a working siren, further adding to our distress. The three-kilometer drive through heavy traffic took a harrowing 25 minutes, during which I felt an indescribable pain, witnessing my loved ones suffering. Finally, we arrived at Wockhardt hospital, and the medical team swiftly began their assessment of my son and husband. My son's condition was critical. His foot's skin had been completely peeled off, with flesh exposed, and his tibia bone required immediate attention. In a grueling surgery that lasted for hours, doctors inserted a rod and screws to stabilize his broken bone and relocated his dislocated foot. It was a race against time to save his foot and ensure proper healing. Throughout the night, I remained on edge, consumed by worry and fear. Meanwhile, my husband faced his own ordeal. His ligament had suffered severe damage, adding to the complexity of his injuries. On December 25th, 2019, he underwent surgery to address the ligament failure. Unfortunately, the procedure did not go as planned, and a subsequent surgery was scheduled for a month later. As the days turned into weeks, my son's bone began to heal, aided by the screws and rod inserted during surgery. Page 46 of 53

However, his foot's skin remained a significant concern. The doctors informed me that the healing process would be prolonged and grafting might be necessary. But they reassured me that, despite the challenges, he would eventually regain the ability to walk. The road to recovery was long and arduous, and my son and husband remained unable to stand on their feet, becoming a constant reminder of the devastating events of that day. With Christmas and New Year approaching, our plans for celebration were shattered by the aftermath of that disastrous day. Instead of joy and festivity, our lives were consumed by pain, worry, and hospital visits. Throughout this challenging period, my brother and brother-in-law stood by my side, offering unwavering support and strength. My sister-in-law and mother-in-law also came to Mumbai, sharing in our burden. After spending 25 days in the hospital, my son and husband were finally discharged. However, the road to recovery was far from over. My husband faced the daunting task of navigating the daily commute to the office, often using crutches. To ease his journey, I would pick him up from a nearby location, helping him navigate the difficult spot that consumed a significant amount of time due to heavy traffic. A ray of hope appeared when my husband's request for a temporary transfer to Vadodara was granted. The city offered a more manageable commute and the support of our extended family. He was granted a two-month transfer, Page 47 of 53

providing some respite from the challenges of Mumbai. Simultaneously, we applied for leave for my son from school, concerned about the impact on his studies. However, fate had a surprising twist in store for us. As the world grappled with the COVID-19 pandemic, Mumbai and the rest of the country were plunged into a complete lockdown. The rising number of cases necessitated stringent measures to curb the spread of the virus. This unexpected turn of events offered an unexpected silver lining. It provided additional healing time for my son and husband, allowing them to continue their medication from the safety of our home. Hospital visits became less frequent, and we adjusted to the new normal. During this period, we managed to schedule one skin grafting procedure for my son amidst the lockdown, despite the heightened tension and strict hygiene requirements. The COVID-19 situation compelled us to remain in Vadodara, which ultimately provided a sense of stability and the opportunity to remove the fixation screws from my son's ankle, which had been inserted during his initial surgery. Nearly nine months had passed since that disastrous day of December 22nd, 2019, and our family had finally made significant strides toward recovery. My husband and son were now able to walk again, albeit with residual pain and occasional reminders of the traumatic event that had changed our lives. The scars, both physical and emotional, Page 48 of 53

served as a constant reminder of the strength and resilience we possessed as a family. Looking back, I couldn't help but marvel at the support and love we received from our siblings, extended family, and friends throughout this arduous journey. Their unwavering presence and encouragement helped us endure the darkest moments and find solace in the hope for brighter days ahead. Although that fateful day had left an indelible mark on our lives, we were determined to rise above the pain and embrace the future with renewed strength and gratitude. Page 49 of 53

Chapter 9. Bumpy roads of life. After the disastrous day that left us reeling from physical and psychological pain, we slowly began to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. Yet, just as we yearned for a respite, COVID-19 cast a shadow of uncertainty over our already burdened existence. The world was in turmoil, and the effects of the pandemic seeped into every aspect of our daily routines, adding another layer of challenge to our struggles. During this time, many companies faced a downturn, including my husband's. As the tides of fortune turned against him, he encountered a series of issues at his job. Simultaneously, his health began to falter, leaving him with limited options. It was amidst these trying circumstances that an unexpected opportunity presented itself—an overseas assignment in Qatar. The suggestion to take this foreign assignment came abruptly in August 2020, offering us no time for deliberation or preparation. My husband was thrust into a situation where he had no choice but to accept the job. We were fully aware that this decision would disrupt the delicate balance of our lives, plunging us into an unfamiliar and uneven path. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, we made the heart- wrenching choice to temporarily live apart, with my husband residing in Qatar while my son and I remained in Vadodara. We hoped that time would eventually bring stability back into our lives. Page 50 of 53