Gauri Kumari Sharma walked through the busy market place with a bright smile on her face. She greeted the Aunties and Uncles she knew and grinned at the children loitering near the sweets stall before they left for school. She took the Prasad from her Aarthi ki thal and offered it to the sweet-toothed kids. Gauri had braved the chill of morning Kashmir air to go to the Shankaracharya Mandir and thank her Shankar Ji for the happiness he was about to bestow upon her.

Gauri had come a long way in three years - and not just geographically. Initially when she left Mumbai she travelled back to her Maa, thinking that she would tell her the truth like ripping off a bandaid - swiftly and in order to minimise pain. Instead she got there to find her mother had little time left, and rather than confronting her with the agonising truth, Gauri chose to let her mother pass in the belief that her daughter's life was secure. As she gazed upon the burning fire of her mother, Gauri bitterly thought that she had once again chosen lies over the truth. What would Omkara Singh Oberoi think of her now?

The months following her mother's death were filled with crippling loneliness. For the first time she could remember (having no personal recollection from before the day her father had brought her home), she was well and truly alone. She had nobody in the world to call her own. A lesser mortal would have spent those months falling apart until they had no will to live, but Gauri Kumari Sharma used her period of mourning to build. To build herself up again. To build her vishwaas up again. To build a plan for what she would do with her life. Three months after her mother's death Gauri left Bareilly for Kashmir. As a child her earliest memory was a trip to Kashmir her father had taken her along on. She remembered the mountains and the polite, serene people, and what her father had told her on the way back: 'If there is jannat on this earth, then it is called Kashmir, beta. Coming here can make you forget the sorrows of your soul.' He had died shortly after but his words remained with her. Gauri's soul had plenty of sorrow she wished to forget.

Gauri had adapted quickly to her new surroundings, finding work as a singer at a local restaurant. Other than that she continued taking orders via phone and internet for dresses for idols and once the local ladies saw the finesse with which she could sew, she became the new seamstress for the village in which se resided - the old one having moved out to a larger town a few moths previously. In her spare time she volunteered at the local orphanage. This way she kept herself busy and loneliness at bay. It was in the orphanage that Gauri found a new reason for existence. From the time of her father's passing, Gauri had cared for her mother, not as a child, but as the adult in the relationship. Gauri had always fulfilled the role of the mother, and that was what was now missing in her life. The more time she spent with the children of the orphanage, the more she realised what could fill the void in her. She wanted a child. Someone to call her own. Someone to be her family. Someone on whom she could focus, on whom she could bestow the endless love that was stored in every fibre of her being.

With the new goal in mind to become a mother, Gauri worked with determination. She was not sewing and and taking extra shifts at the cafe to make ends meet - she was doing it all so she could prove her capability of being a mother before taking on the responsibility. Once her livelihood became more stable and she had gathered some savings, she put forward her request to adopt. The Head of the orphanage was kind but honest in telling her that as a single parent, with no great financial backing, the chances of her request reaching fruition were very low. But miracles were the result of vishwaas, and Gauri had endless vishwaas in her Shankar Ji, so today, two and a half years after arriving in Kashmir, her wish was going to be fulfilled. Late last night the orphanage had called to let her know that a newborn baby had been placed with them that evening by the hospital. The baby's parents had both died as the result of a car crash and the mother had drawn her last breath as the baby had been removed from her womb. She had no other surviving relatives, her parents having been orphans with no siblings. Due to the multitude of children and minuscule resources afforded to the orphanage, they could not take on a baby, and had nowhere else to put her. The Head of the orphanage remembered Gauri, and called her to give her the news.

That night Gauri had not slept in anticipation. She took a bus early in the morning to the temple and prayed for the birth parents of the treasure she was about to recieve. She wept for her own loss, for her baby's loss and swore that she would love the child more than anything or anyone. She would never let the shadow of being an orphan cloud her sunny life. She would be her Maa in every sense. With determination, Gauri left the Mandir and made her way back home to refresh before leaving for the orphanage to meet her daughter.