Siddharth Bagchi is known as DJ Sid in the vibrant music scene of Mumbai. It was a demanding job, but his passion for melodies kept him going. He is a young and talented music composer in his late twenties. He has a lean, athletic build, a result of long hours spent dancing during his DJ performances and occasional gym visits when his schedule permits. His sharp jawline and expressive dark eyes often carry an intensity that reflects his deep connection to music. His tousled black hair adds a casual, carefree edge to his otherwise focused personality.
Siddharth is usually dressed in trendy yet comfortable clothes—graphic t-shirts, bomber jackets, ripped jeans, and sneakers—reflecting his vibrant career as a DJ. He often accessorizes with a pair of stylish headphones slung around his neck and a silver bracelet gifted by his mother, which he considers his lucky charm.
Though Siddharth enjoys the limelight, his success hasn't made him arrogant. He remains grounded, carrying a sense of gratitude toward his humble beginnings in a small village in West Bengal. His warm smile and approachable demeanour make him well-liked among his colleagues.
Passionate, hardworking, and empathetic, Siddharth believes in the transformative power of music and the importance of human connection. These qualities make him not only a celebrated artist but also a compassionate individual who values love and relationships above all else.
One day, he had been on his toes since morning, composing music for a private music company. By the time the clock struck three, his stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything since dawn. Deciding to grab lunch, Siddharth stepped into a nearby restaurant.
The restaurant was warm and inviting, with bright decorations and a festive atmosphere. Colourful streamers hung from the ceiling, and the tables were adorned with fresh flowers. The air inside the restaurant was filled with laughter and joy. Mothers and children occupied every table, celebrating Mother’s Day with cakes, balloons, and heartfelt moments. Siddharth suddenly realized he had completely forgotten about the occasion. The thought of his own mother struck him like a lightning bolt. He hadn’t contacted her in months.
His mother, who lived in a remote village in West Bengal, had always been his pillar of strength. After losing his father at the tender age of ten, it was his mother who worked tirelessly to raise him. She encouraged his passion for music, sacrificing her dreams so he could pursue his own. The guilt of his prolonged silence weighed heavily on him as he sat down and placed his order.
As Siddharth waited for his food, his eyes wandered across the restaurant. It was beautifully decorated with streamers and floral arrangements. He watched children giggling as they fed cake to their mothers, and a pang of nostalgia hit him. He remembered how his mother used to stay up late during his exams, feeding him warm food while encouraging him to do his best.
The restaurant had large glass walls that offered a clear view of the busy street outside, allowing sunlight to flood the space. It was a lively and cheerful place, perfect for special occasions. Siddharth stared outside the glass walls, lost in his thoughts, when his eyes fell on something unusual. A little girl stood outside the restaurant, her tiny hands pressed against the glass, staring longingly at the food inside.
She looked no older than thirteen, with delicate features and big, expressive eyes that shone with an unmistakable hunger. She wore a clean, beautiful frock that appeared new, the kind of dress children wear for special occasions. Her neat appearance didn’t suggest poverty, but there was something deeply sad about her face.
Her small figure seemed out of place in the joyful, colourful atmosphere of the restaurant. While other children inside laughed and fed their mothers, this girl stood silently outside, separated by the glass as if she didn’t belong to their world of happiness. Siddharth couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her gaze was filled with a mixture of longing and sorrow, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hadn’t felt before. Something about her presence felt heavy, almost haunting, and Siddharth felt compelled to find out more about her.
Siddharth's curiosity piqued. Just as he got up to approach her, one of the restaurant staff members chased her away.
Siddharth quickly inquired the staff. "Who is that girl? Why did you send her away?"
"Sir, she has been roaming around here for three days," the staff replied nonchalantly.
"She peeks into the restaurant and distracts the customers. She never orders anything, so I ask her to leave."
Siddharth felt a surge of anger. "Did you ever think of offering her food?"
"No, sir," the staff stammered, taken aback by Siddharth's tone.
Unable to suppress his emotions, Siddharth immediately ordered a plate of delicious food for the girl and ran outside to find her. She hadn't gone far. He called out to her and gently led her back into the restaurant.
Placing the food in front of her, Siddharth smiled warmly. "Here, eat as much as you want."
To his astonishment, the girl shook her head and pushed the plate away. Her eyes filled with tears.
"Why don’t you want to eat?" Siddharth asked softly, his voice filled with concern.
The little girl burst into tears. "Today is Mother’s Day," she said between sobs.
"Everyone here is eating with their mothers. I lost my mother three years ago during Corona. I don’t want this food. I want her back. Only she used to feed me. I can’t stay without her."
Siddharth wanted to know the little girl’s story. There was something about her that tugged at his heart. Out of curiosity, he gently asked, "What's is your name? Why do you come here every day? Where is your father?" What happened to him?"
The girl hesitated at first, her tiny fingers fidgeting with the hem of her frock. But seeing the kindness in Siddharth’s eyes, she began to speak, her voice trembling with emotion.
“My name is Ananya. During the corona time, my mother and I both got very sick. We had Covid. My father left us because he was scared of getting the virus. The people in our neighbourhood locked us inside our house. They said we would spread the disease. My mother tried to take care of me, but she was so weak. She told me to stay strong, but one day, she didn’t wake up.”
Her voice broke, and she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Siddharth’s chest tightened with pain as he listened.
“I cried and cried, but no one came to help. Later, some Party Volunteers came and rescued me. They took me to an orphanage. That’s where I live now. But I miss my mother so much. She used to feed me and hug me when I was scared. On days like today, when everyone is with their mothers, I feel so alone.”
Siddharth’s heart shattered into a million pieces. The pain in Ananya’s voice mirrored the guilt he felt for neglecting his own mother. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, his voice trembling.
“I can’t bring your mother back, but I promise you this—you will never feel alone again.”
The girl looked up at him, her tear-streaked face searching for sincerity in his words. Siddharth smiled through his own tears.
"Let me be your friend," he said. "And if you'll allow me, I'll make sure you're never hungry again."
For the first time, the Ananya’s lips curved into a faint smile. Siddharth asked her to take a small bite, assuring her that her mother would want her to stay strong. Reluctantly, she ate.
As the girl ate, Siddharth made a decision. He would take care of her, support her, and give her a life filled with love and music, just as his mother had done for him.
That evening, Siddharth called his mother, apologizing for his negligence and promising to visit her soon. With his newfound purpose, Siddharth realized that Mother’s Day wasn’t just about celebrating the bond with one's biological mother—it was about honouring the spirit of motherhood, compassion, and unconditional love that exists in every corner of life.
And for the first time in years, Siddharth felt truly at peace.
