❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
❤️☀️ Wearing vadamalli from their Onam collection @alekh_kochi Photo by @shoot_by_samfotogrpic
Fake smiles are for the camera, not my life 👀✨👀 MUH @rizwan_themakeupboy 📸 @stories_by_ajin_tom
Fake smiles are for the camera, not my life 👀✨👀 MUH @rizwan_themakeupboy 📸 @stories_by_ajin_tom
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Growing up, I always wanted a sister, someone to adore, dress up, put makeup on, a best friend to give all my love to. Then I got a brother. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I was honestly disgusted by his tiny face when he was born, mucus in his eyes and mouth. Eww, I said. But then I found myself loving him, raising him, teaching him everything I knew. I just wanted to love something so deeply, and there he was, my baby brother. I fed him, played with him, made him do chores with me, tricking him by saying Ambili Maaman would come visit us at night if we were good kids. I helped with his schoolwork, even stood up to his bullies. He was my everything. When people asked me who I loved more, Appa or Amma, I’d say, Eric. He was still a little boy, yet he became part of everything I did. He’d hang out with my friends. In school and at work, he became the one who led, who took initiative, so much like my Chachan, who is no longer with us. Eric was even named after him, Eric ‘Zacharia’, after T.S. Scaria, whom I also miss so much today. And then my little boy grew up. It started to ache to watch him become an individual. He was never that annoying teenager with temper issues, just someone too precious to let go of. But I had to, because that’s how life goes. They find someone to love, someone to share everything with, and you slowly begin to play a different role in their story. Everyone who meets him says, “That boy is surreal. He’s the most loving, mature, amazing person.” And I take pride, maybe too much pride, in having been part of his upbringing, in saying I raised him to be the man I wished to have in my life. Even though my best friend reminds me that it was all him, not me. Now he’s in Melbourne, working hard, building a life. I’m always proud. Sometimes aching. And because I don’t want to remember those emotions, I bury them deep, but the truth is, he’ll always be the centre of my universe. The one who taught me how to love so completely. My first baby. My first experience of motherhood. Happy birthday, Eric. ❤️
Eyes and all the things they see ✨ MUH @rizwan_themakeupboy 📸 @stories_by_ajin_tom
Eyes and all the things they see ✨ MUH @rizwan_themakeupboy 📸 @stories_by_ajin_tom
Grew up together pulling each other’s hair in class, picking fights, laughing. And now you’re getting married. It’s slowly sinking in. I just love going to my closest friend’s wedding, I have so much fun! But oh my god… we’re old!!! 😭😭😭😭 #Sangeet #TimeFlies
Grew up together pulling each other’s hair in class, picking fights, laughing. And now you’re getting married. It’s slowly sinking in. I just love going to my closest friend’s wedding, I have so much fun! But oh my god… we’re old!!! 😭😭😭😭 #Sangeet #TimeFlies
Grew up together pulling each other’s hair in class, picking fights, laughing. And now you’re getting married. It’s slowly sinking in. I just love going to my closest friend’s wedding, I have so much fun! But oh my god… we’re old!!! 😭😭😭😭 #Sangeet #TimeFlies
