A Mother, A Memory, A Promise

The summer heat had settled in, and the long-awaited school vacations had begun.

“Aadya, beta, enough playing for now. Come, let’s go home and eat something,” pleaded Kiran, a young and graceful mother whose eyes always softened at the sight of her daughter.

“Mumma, please… one last game. Pakka!” Aadya begged with the cutest puppy face, and as always, Kiran had to surrender to her little drama queen.

“Okay, fine. I’m waiting right here. Come soon,” she smiled. Aadya squealed in excitement and sprinted back to her friends.

Kiran watched her with a heart full of warmth. Aadya was a miracle — a blessing she received after years of longing and prayers. Her daughter was her little angel, the joy that lit up both her and Vivek’s world.

The children decided to play blindfold. It was Aadya’s turn, and she giggled as her friends tied a cloth over her eyes and spun her around. Arms outstretched, she stumbled playfully, trying to catch someone.

Kiran kept watching — and suddenly, that simple blindfold pulled her back into a memory she had buried deep within her soul.

Years ago, on a similar summer afternoon, Kiran had been playing blindfold with her cousins on the terrace. She was young, carefree, laughing — until she grabbed someone’s hand. Delighted at winning, she tried to remove the blindfold, but the hand she had caught tightened around her wrist.

Before she could scream, she was pulled into the dark storeroom on the terrace.

When the blindfold slipped off, she froze.

It was her uncle — the one she trusted, adored, and never feared. But that day… he was no uncle. He was a monster.

In that suffocating moment, Kiran lost something she could never reclaim — her innocence.

Her breath quickened in the present. The memories she had pushed into the shadows surged up again — raw, painful, unforgiving.

Just then, Aadya’s shriek of delight snapped her out of it.

“Mumma! I won!” Aadya cheered, tossing the blindfold into the air before running into her mother’s arms.

Kiran hugged her tightly.“Yes, beta… we won.”

Because she truly had won — not that day long ago, but later.

Kiran had not stayed silent. She was not the timid child her uncle expected her to be. With the support of her parents, she spoke up. Her voice sent him behind bars. Her courage compelled their entire family to cut ties with him forever.

Kiran healed — slowly, painfully — but she healed. She grew into a strong woman, a protective mother, a loving wife, and a daughter determined never to let her past define her.

And today, watching her daughter laugh freely under the open sky, she knew one thing for sure:

Her story had not broken her. It had built her.

#shortstories #life #Strongwoman #flashfiction