Tum Se Hi

The house was quiet. Or at least, quieter than the hospital had been.

For the first time in days, Vaneesha and Shubman were alone with their daughter—no nurses, no doctors, no monitors beeping, no visitors ringing the bell. Just the three of them in their cozy little Mumbai apartment, wrapped in the warm cocoon of new parenthood.

Eesha sat on the bed in her favorite oversized kurta, baby Aira nestled against her chest. Her tiny head moved gently with every breath, and her delicate fingers gripped a strand of Vaneesha’s hair with surprising strength.

“Yeh chhoti si jaan itni powerful kaise hai?” Vaneesha whispered, amused and emotional all at once.

Shubman peeked into the room holding two mugs of chai. “Woh meri beti hai, obviously.”

She chuckled softly, brushing a kiss onto Aira’s forehead. “Tum toh already proud dad mode mein chale gaye ho.”

He handed her the mug, sitting beside them. “Aree, main toh tabhi chala gaya tha jab uski heartbeat pehli baar suna tha.”

They sat like that for a moment—just sipping tea and soaking it all in. The weight of sleepless nights hadn’t hit yet. The adrenaline of becoming parents was still buzzing in their bones.

But that calm didn’t last long.

Aira scrunched her nose, turned red, and let out a loud cry that startled both of them.

“Okay, okay, okay! Main sambhaalta hoon!” Shubman panicked, placing the mug down and scrambling for the baby bag.

“Bacche ko milk chahiye, wipes nahi!” Eesha laughed, gently rocking Aira against her chest. “New dad alert!”

He stopped, blinked, then ran to her side. “Are you okay? Pain ho raha hai?”

“No, Shubh,” she smiled, “main theek hoon. Thoda thak gayi hoon bas.”

Shubman leaned in, kissing her temple. “Main hoon na. Tum bas rest karo.”

He took Aira from her gently, handling her with the nervous reverence of a man holding a crystal vase. “Aur tu... chhoti madam,” he whispered to Aira, “raat ko sone dogi na, please?”

Midnight.

The apartment, now dimly lit, echoed with soft lullabies and the sound of a fussy newborn.

“Tum so jao na, Eesha,” Shubman said, holding Aira over his shoulder and pacing the room.

Eesha was lying down, watching with sleepy admiration. “Mujhe laga tum cricket ke baad thak jaate ho... dekh rahi hoon, Aira ke liye toh tum marathon bhi daud jaaooge.”

“Cricket toh training tha. Yeh asli match hai,” he grinned.

The moment was tender. But then Aira let out a loud wail—again.

“Yeh kis type ka doosra innings hai bhai,” Shubman muttered.

They tried everything. Diaper? Check. Feeding? Check. Burping? Check. Nothing worked.

Around 2:45 a.m., Vaneesha sighed. “Mujhe lagta hai Aira sirf mujhe pehchaanti hai abhi. Tum so jao, Shubh.”

“Nahi,” he said firmly, “agar tum jaag rahi ho, toh main bhi jaagunga.”

Aira finally dozed off at 3:15 a.m.—on Shubman’s chest, with him sitting upright on the couch, barely daring to breathe.

Around 9 a.m., the bell rang.

Eesha opened the door to find Mumma Gill and Papa Gill, both holding bags full of food, baby essentials, and love.

“Hamari laadli aayi ghar!” Mumma Gill beamed, walking straight in.

Papa Gill’s eyes twinkled. “Aur Shubman kahan hai? Bachche ke diaper badalna seekh gaya kya?”

“Diaper toh badla, par neend toh gayi,” Eesha laughed.

Shubman stumbled into the living room, hair wild, shirt backward. “Mujhe neend… ka matlab bhi yaad nahi.”

“Beta, abhi toh shuru hua hai,” Papa Gill chuckled, patting his back.

Mumma Gill took Aira into her arms with the grace of a veteran. “Meri nanhi si pari. Kitni pyaari hai.”

Just then, another bell.

Mumma Kohli entered, her face lighting up at the sight of her daughter and granddaughter.

“Eesha! Meri bacchi!” she hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes. “Aur yeh toh meri carbon copy lagti hai!”

“She has your nose, Mummy,” Vaneesha smiled.

“And Shubman’s eyes,” Mumma Kohli added with a proud nod.

Then chaos resumed.

More bells. More hugs.

Virat, Anushka, Rohit, Ritika, and the kids came in next—each one loud, dramatic, and carrying gifts wrapped in colorful paper and love.

“Bas bas bas!” Rohit grinned, “Aira ki masti dekhni hai, lekin pehle mujhe chai chahiye.”

“Chai?” Shubman raised an eyebrow. “aapko chai chahiye? Bro, meri neend puri nahi hui do din se.”

“Welcome to the dad club,” Virat clapped him on the back.

Samaira and Vamika ran to the crib where Aira was now peacefully sleeping.

“Wow, she's so tiny,” Sammy whispered. “Can I hold her?”

“Only if you sit down and stay still,” Anushka instructed.

Vamika peered inside. “Mumma, can we get one too?”

Virat turned pale. “Ek aur?! Beta, pehle tu school jaa!”

The room erupted in laughter.

Even little Akaay and Ahaan, though clueless, were passed around for cuddles. The living room looked like a chaotic love explosion—pillows, toys, laughter, and a very calm, sleeping Aira in the middle of it all.

That evening, after dinner, as everyone was preparing to leave, Abhishek raised a glass of apple juice.

“Ahem. A toast. To Aira—who already has better hair than Ishan. And to the new parents, who, despite the lack of sleep and overflowing diapers, have created something beautiful.”

Ishan chimed in, “Aur haan, agar Aira kabhi cricket khelegi, toh main uska first coach hoon!”

“Bas kar,” Komal rolled her eyes. “She’ll be a genius, not just a cricketer.”

Nitish, tearing up slightly, added, “Yaar… yeh sab dekh ke lagta hai hum kitne bade ho gaye.”

Vaneesha smiled, her hand resting over Shubman’s. “Bade hone ka matlab hi yeh hai—pyar, family, aur thodi si sleeplessness.”

Shubman pulled her close. “Aur tum dono ne mujhe pura kar diya.”

Everyone raised their glasses.

“To love. To chaos. And to baby Aira.”

Later that night, when the house finally emptied and silence returned, Eesha and Shubman sat together on the couch again. Aira, swaddled in soft blankets, lay asleep in her crib nearby.

They looked at each other.

Exhausted. Underslept. Overwhelmed.

But so deeply, completely, unshakably happy.

“Tum sochti ho hum yeh sambhaal paayenge?” he asked softly.

“Main jaanti hoon hum sambhaal lenge,” she replied, resting her head on his shoulder.

And as they sat there—watching their daughter sleep, wrapped in the comforting hush of home—they knew the journey was only beginning.

But they were in it, together.

Always.

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