The day he was born, her world shrunk. It resided inside his little body. Nothing else mattered. As long as she had him and he had her. Oh, what joy. And seven years down the line, nothing changed. They walked together hand in hand, having a heart to heart every evening. She introduced him to the birds, trees, animals and everything that he set his eyes on. Including the delicious samosa sandwich just outside the park. He introduced her to the purest form of love: motherhood. And as they sat there, on the pavement, enjoying the crunchy samosas mashed into a spicy grilled sandwich, his nose ran and her eyes watered. But they enjoyed it just the same. Lost in their own world, they paused their minds as they fed their souls—until a loud voice spoke from somewhere behind. “Why didn’t you come to work today? I had to do all the dishes by myself. And here you are eating this roadside sandwich? Have you no shame? You’re fired.” Angered by the words, he got up to contest this voice, and face it with his rage. But it was too late. By the time he could get up, the owner of the voice was gone. He looked at his mother and blinked thrice. As she saw that happen, she smiled. It was their secret code to the three magical words—I love you. Words could harm. But gestures could heal.