When Iraj came to me, I thought I knew what motherhood is. I dreamt of little chubby hands, first words, first steps, nursery rhymes, laughter and cuddles. And motherhood blessed me with the unexpected gift of autism.

Iraj was my little boy, one of my beautiful twins.

In those days, I would get occasional signals that something was not quite okay- sometimes he would respond to his name and sometimes not; sometimes he would get engaged in his world of lights, fans, spinning objects, and numbers, while other times he would communicate with us.

At first, I did not know what it all meant, and I did not know the meaning of the word autism. But that did not stop the questions: "Why does Iraj not respond to his name?", "Why can he not imitate others?", "Why does he love spinning things?" "Why is Iraj different from other children?" and "Is it all because I am not able to fulfil my duties as a mother?"

I had no answers.

But then, I had my Iraj, and I decided to learn all I could about him. We went through the evaluations, therapies, occupational and speech therapies. I would come back home wondering if it was all going to help him learn to talk and play with us.

Sometimes it was tough.
Sometimes Iraj did not want to learn.
Sometimes he forgot what he already knew.

Sometimes I would look at other children playing and interacting and wonder why my child could not do what seems to be the most basic thing in the world.

But then Iraj would surprise me with some really significant progress that made me wonder how I ever doubted him.

One day he followed instruction after instruction.

"Pick the ball."
"Put it in the box."
"Give me the car".

For others, this might have been just "following instructions", but for me, he had given me something more important- hope.

Then came the words.

"Mama, Papa, Pani, Bye".

Then came phrases like, "Pani pina hai", "Pani khatam".

Iraj is still learning, but he gives me so much whenever he can.

Iraj's world is full of numbers, shapes and colours.

Iraj loves numbers.

He can recognise numbers better than any other child I have met.

He loves his number 5- sometimes I have seen him collecting 5 things around the house or writing the number 5 over and over again just for fun.

But then Iraj taught me to understand his way of learning and interacting.

Sometimes instead of forcing him to learn, I would think of ways where he could teach me.

A number could become a learning material, a game could become an activity to teach him imitation, and I could explore the world with him. Playing with dry atta, sand, chalk or whatever we have at home could become a learning activity.

But then, the bad days came, the days when he would spin things, ignore his name, not want to learn, and just play with whatever he wanted.

Sometimes it got so bad I would get frustrated and cry. But then there were days when Iraj would surprise me. He would greet people, imitate, play telephone, learn colours and shapes, follow instructions and tell me what he wanted.

The little man who I thought was busy living in his world of numbers and lights was now showing me glimpses of his heart.

Iraj taught me to understand that he did not need to change for me, but I needed to change for him.

I needed to help him be the best that he can be.

Another thing I have realised is that autism is not a race.

There is no finishing point where everyone needs to arrive.

Each person is different.

They have their own pace and their own path.

So we celebrate little victories because they are as important as the big ones.

To me, victories are when he looks at me, asks for something, follows an instruction, learns a new word, communicates, laughs or even reaches out for my hand.

Sometimes victories are when he plays with himself quietly and is happy being the way he is.

Iraj taught me so many things about autism, but he has also taught me about being a mother. When I took him for his therapies, I thought I would be the one teaching him. But in all that time, he has been my teacher, teaching me countless lessons about patience with him and myself.

He has taught me that victory is in every little step, that life is a wonderful journey and that autism cannot define who my child is.

Iraj is my little curious boy.

He loves numbers.

He likes being playful sometimes and serious at other times.

He has his interests, his likes and dislikes.

He is a unique little individual with a world of his own, and I like to explore it with him.

Iraj has also taught me to be better at what I do.

I am not perfect, but Iraj comes to me with a smile and tells me that he likes being around me.

I am a mother who goes to therapy with her child and learns something new every day. I am also the mother who tries and tries again and again because yesterday's therapy did not work.

I am the mother who sometimes cries because it is getting too hard, but gets up again the next day and tries something new with my little man.

Iraj and I have a beautiful journey ahead, and I am so grateful for this experience. But then again, this is our story and only our story. We may not reach the end of our road, but I know I will find my way with the next step.

One word, one activity, one smile, one victory at a time.

This is my story.

This is Iraj's story.

This is the story of a mother who learned that sometimes the tiniest steps can lead to the most beautiful victories.

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