It had been two months since they came back from Yuvika’s home…

and more than a month since Vamika started teaching at the school where all three of her sons studied.

Her mornings now ran on a new rhythm —

a busier one, but fulfilling in a way that made her heart feel full.

Vamika woke up before everyone, as usual.

The maids were already up, preparing breakfast in the kitchen.

She didn’t have to cook, but she always packed the tiffins for her sons herself,

carefully choosing which child would like which sabzi,

who wanted extra paratha,

whose fruit had to be cut smaller,

who preferred bananas over apples.

Three sons, Three different preferences…

and Vamika remembered every single one.

After packing their tiffins, she woke the boys one by one:

one was always grumpy,

one needed to be carried to the bathroom, still half-asleep,

and the youngest always clung to her neck for five minutes before agreeing to get ready.

She brushed their hair, buttoned their shirts, tied their shoe laces,

fixed their belts, wiped their faces…

all while the maids packed their water bottles and placed their school bags at the door.

By the time the boys finished gulping down their breakfast,

Vamika was already dressed in her simple cotton saree for school,

her hair tied in a neat low braid,

bindi small and elegant.

And then, like every morning,

all three of them held onto her saree pallu or her wrists

as they walked out of the house together.

She was a primary teacher since she hadn't completed her graduation, she was still pursuing it.

Being a teacher — even only up to Class 5 —

was something she never imagined for herself.

Her classroom felt alive:

colourful charts,

tiny chairs,

small shoes tapping eagerly,

little voices calling her “Ma’am! Ma’am!” with excitement.

Her sons would often peek into her class during recess,

three heads lined up at the window,

pretending she didn’t see them.

She always saw them.

And smiled.

The principal once told her:

“Aap class mein bohut shanti le ke aati hain.”

["You bring a lot of peace into the classroom."]

Those words had stayed with her for days.

When she returned home in the afternoons,

the maids would serve lunch,

and the boys would rush to her,

each wanting to talk about their day first.

Yudhveer had become quietly proud of her.

There was a new softness in the way he looked at her,

a respect that deepened with every passing day.

Sometimes he teased:

“Madam ji aaj kitne bacchon ko daanta?”

["Madam, how many kids did you scold today?"]

Sometimes he simply stared at her,

watching the confidence glowing on her face,

as if admiring how far she’d come.

Her life was no longer limited to the walls of the haveli.

She had a role, a purpose, a place of her own.

And that small step — teaching children —was mending things inside her she didn’t even realize were broken.

These few things had changed many things in their household —

not just because Vamika had started teaching, but also because of the private promise she and Yudhveer had made to each other…the promise of trying for a daughter.

And in these two months, there wasn’t a single night when Yudhveer had let her sleep without pulling her close, without holding her as if she belonged only to him.

Every night, without fail,

he kissed her, touched her, cherished her, and made love to her with a longing he could no longer hide.

And every night, he emptied himself inside her — not out of hunger alone,

but out of the deep, aching desire to finally have the daughter he had dreamed of for years.

Sometimes he whispered against her neck:

“Is baar beti hi hogi…”

["This time it will be a daughter…"]

Sometimes he would rest his head on her chest afterward, wrap an arm protectively around her waist,

and murmur half-asleep:

“Tu dekhna, humari paas choti pari aayegi.”

["You’ll see, our little angel will come."]

And Vamika…Vamika let him, welcomed him, held him, and met his desire with her own growing wish to become a mother again.

The nights had become theirs —

soft, warm, slow, filled with whispered hopes, and an intimacy deeper than anything they had shared before.

Every morning, she woke up a little sore,

a soft ache blooming low in her body —

the kind of ache that reminded her of how deeply he had loved her just hours ago.

Sometimes she had to gently slide his heavy arm off her waist.

Sometimes she flushed just looking at the washroom door —that washroom which held too many memories.

But every morning, she started her day with a shy smile she tried to hide,

because she knew exactly why she felt this way…and she knew Yudhveer would never let a single night go to waste

as long as their dream of a daughter remained just beyond reach.

___________________

That morning, school felt unusually bright.

Vamika had finished two periods already, and now it was time for Class 5— Yagya’s class.

As she walked in, the children greeted her cheerfully.

“Good morning, ma’am!”

And Yagya, sitting in the front row, puffed up with pride every time his mother took his class.

She began teaching Maths, writing a simple addition sum on the board.

Her chalk moved smoothly… until the room suddenly tilted.

A wave of dizziness washed over her — sharp, unexpected.

She blinked hard.

Ignored it.

Continued writing.

But the dizziness came again — stronger, heavier —and before she could steady herself, her knees wobbled.

The chalk slipped from her fingers.

She swayed.

And just as her body tilted dangerously—

four tiny pairs of hands rushed towards her.

“Ma’am! Ma’am! Kya ho gaya aapko?!”

["Ma’am! What happened to you?!"]

Her vision blurred; the children’s faces became hazy circles.

She couldn’t answer.

Little Yagya was the fastest.

“Maa!” he gasped —

the word slipping out instinctively, fearfully.

He reached up, clutching her arm tightly,

and two other kids held her from the other side.

Slowly, carefully, they brought her to the teacher’s chair.

She sat down, breathing unevenly, one hand on her forehead.

But Yagya was already unscrewing his water bottle with trembling fingers.

He placed it against her lips carefully.

“Maa… yeh piyo.”

["Mom… drink this."]

She managed to take a sip.

The cool water steadied her slightly.

Yagya’s little face twisted with worry.

“Aap yahin baitho, Maa.”

["You sit right here, Mom."]

She nodded faintly, still dizzy.

Then he turned to three of his friends — his voice shaky but strong.

“Meri maa ka dhyan rakhna… main abhi aata hoon!”

["Take care of my mom… I’ll be right back!"]

And he dashed out of the class, running as fast as his small legs could carry him, panic making him even faster.

Yagya rushed towards the principal’s office, his tiny feet thumping against the corridor tiles. His breathing was uneven, eyes wide with panic.

The principal, who was checking some files, looked up immediately.

“Yagya? Aap yahan kya kar rahe hain?”

["Yagya? What are you doing here?"]

Yagya, still huffing, said,

“Mujhe baba ko telephone karna hain.”

["I need to call my father."]

The principal’s brows knitted.

“Sab theek hain na beta?”

["Is everything alright, child?"]

Her worry deepened because this wasn’t just any child—he was the sarpanch’s son. She didn’t question further. She simply stood up, brought the landline towards him, and said softly,

“Lo beta, phone karo.”

["Here child, make the call."]

Yagya’s fingers trembled as he dialed the number for his father’s office. After two rings, Yudhveer picked up.

“Baba… baba… maa ki tabiyat theek nahi hain… aap unhe lene aa jaiyen!”

["Father… father… mother is not well… please come to pick her up!"]

Yudhveer instantly stiffened.

“Kya hua usko?”

["What happened to her?"]

Yagya swallowed, voice shaky.

“Pata nahi… lekin wo behosh hone wali thi…”

["I don’t know… but she was about to faint…"]

For a second, Yudhveer felt his heartbeat stop. The entire world narrowed to just those words.

“Beta, tu maa ko sambhal… main abhi aata hoon.”

["Son, take care of your mother… I am coming right now."]

He didn’t waste another second.

No more dialogues. No instructions. Nothing.

Yudhveer slammed the phone down, pushed back his chair so fast it nearly toppled, and sprinted out of the office.

His mind kept repeating one desperate prayer—

Bhagwan bas meri Chand thik ho…

["God, please let my Chand be fine…"]

He didn’t care about anything else—not meetings, not people calling his name, not the staff staring at him as he ran to the jeep.

All he cared about was getting to her.

His heart was pounding, fear crawling under his skin.

He had never driven this fast in his life.

Yudhveer’s jeep screeched into the school courtyard. Before it had fully stopped, he jumped out, eyes scanning desperately.

Yagya spotted him first and ran towards him.

“Baba, mere saath aao!”

["Father, come with me!"]

Without wasting a second, Yudhveer followed his son down the corridor, his boots echoing sharply. They reached the classroom where Vamika was sitting on the chair, her face pale, her posture slouched with clear fatigue written all over her.

The moment Yudhveer saw her like that, something inside him twisted painfully.

He rushed to her, knelt slightly, and cupped her face gently but urgently.

“Tu theek hain? Kya ho gaya tha tujhe?”

["Are you okay? What happened to you?"]

Vamika tried to straighten up, forcing a small smile.

“Yudhveer ji, kuch nahi hua mujhe… main theek hoon bilkul.”

["Yudhveer ji, nothing happened to me… I’m completely fine."]

But he wasn’t convinced—not even for a second.

His voice came out half-scolding, half-terrified, emotion tightening his throat.

“Dhyan kyu nahi rakhti apna tu?”

["Why don’t you take care of yourself?"]

Vamika placed her hand softly over his hand on her cheek—warm, reassuring, but weak.

“Yudhveer ji, aap samajh nahi rahe hain…”

["Yudhveer ji, you are not understanding…"]

She wanted to tell him something, but he didn’t let her finish. His fear overshadowed everything.

He stood up abruptly, held her wrist firmly—but gently—and said:

“Tu abhi kaam nahi karegi. Ghar chal mere saath aur aaram kar.”

["You will not work right now. Come home with me and rest."]

“Par—” ["But—”]she tried to reason, but the look in his eyes said everything.

He wasn’t arguing. He wasn’t negotiating.

He was scared of losing her.

And she knew that.

So she exhaled softly and said,

“Theek hain…”

["Alright…"]

She gave in, because right now resistance felt unnecessary—

and because somewhere deep down, she wanted to lean on him.

Yudhveer gently placed Vamika on the bed, adjusting the pillows behind her back. His palm cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her softly, his eyes scanning her face with worry, fear… and something deeper.

But before he could say anything,

Vamika slowly reached out and held his hand—her fingers trembling slightly.

Her voice was soft, hesitant, shy.

“Yudhveer ji… mujhe… mujhe lagta hain…”

["Yudhveer ji… I… I feel that…"]

Yudhveer immediately leaned closer, brows pulled together.

“Kya lagta hain?”

["What do you feel?"]

Vamika swallowed, her cheeks heating, her lashes lowering.

Then in the smallest voice—

“Mujhe lagta hain ki main pet se hoon…”

["I think… I might be pregnant…"]

For a second, Yudhveer didn’t process the words.

He blinked.

Stared.

Panicked because he thought he misheard.

“K-kya?”

["W–what?"]

Vamika met his eyes, then shyly nodded.

Her fingers twisted into the bedsheet, her voice barely a whisper—

“Hum roz karte hain… toh…”

["We do it every night… so…"]

Before she could finish, Yudhveer’s breath caught.

He suddenly hugged her tightly, pulling her into his chest with overwhelming joy and relief. His arms wrapped around her like he never wanted to let her go. He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her lips—unable to contain himself.

Then he pulled back slightly and placed a long kiss on her forehead, his voice full of emotion.

“Par Chand… hum aise andaaza laga ke baith nahi sakte. Humein nishchit hona hoga.”

["But moon… we can’t sit assuming like this. We must be sure."]

Vamika nodded, face flushed crimson.

Yudhveer tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his expression softening even more.

“Main dai maa ko bula laata hoon.”

["I’ll go call the midwife."]

She nodded again quietly.

Before leaving, he gently made her lie properly on the bed, adjusting the duvet over her chest. Then he leaned down once more and pressed another slow, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Then he turned and rushed out of the room—his steps fast, eager, hopeful.

Yudhveer practically ran through the corridors of the haveli. His heartbeat was loud—too loud. His palms slightly sweaty. His mind repeating one thing again and again:

Could it be true?

Chand… pregnant?

Are we getting our daughter?

He reached to Dai Maa, slightly breathless.

“Dai maa!”

["Midwife!"]

She looked up in surprise.

“Arey Thakur ji, kya hua?”

["Oh Thakur ji, what happened?"]

“Aaiye… jaldi aaiye. Meri patni… shayad…”

["Come… please come quickly. My wife's condition… maybe…"]

He couldn’t say the words out loud.

But Dai Maa understood the unsaid.

Her eyes twinkled knowingly.

“Chaliye.”

["Come, let’s go."]

Inside the room, Vamika was sitting up slightly, supported by pillows. She looked nervous, her fingers plucking her saree pallu, legs curled slightly to the side.

The moment Yudhveer entered, her eyes lifted to him.

He gave her a reassuring look.

Dai Maa walked in behind him.

“Thakurain ji, aap theek hain?”

["Thakurain ji, are you okay?"]

Vamika nodded softly, cheeks burning.

Yudhveer perched beside her, one hand on her shoulder—a silent support.

Dai Maa sat down, opened her small cloth bag, and said gently:

“Chaliye Thakurain ji, dekh leti hoon.”

["Come Thakurain ji, let me check."]

Vamika’s heartbeat picked up.

Yudhveer held her hand immediately—tight, protective.

Dai Maa checked her pulse, then gently examined her stomach area, feeling lightly with experienced hands. She looked at Vamika’s tongue, checked her eyes, then asked a few questions softly.

After a few moments, Dai Maa sat back.

There was a pause.

Yudhveer’s grip on Vamika’s hand tightened.

“Dai maa…?”

["Midwife…?"]

She looked at them both.

A slow smile spread across her old face.

“Thakurain ji maa banne wali hain.”

["Thakurain ji is going to be a mother."]

Vamika’s breath hitched.

Her eyes widened—then softened—and suddenly filled with emotion.

But Yudhveer…

He froze.

Then he whispered, almost disbelieving:

“Sach?”

["Truly?"]

Dai Maa nodded.

“Han baba. Bahu teen hafte se zyada ki lag rahi hain.”

["Yes, son. She seems to be more than three weeks along."]

The moment the words sank in—

Yudhveer let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes in overwhelming relief. He brought Vamika’s hand to his lips, kissing it repeatedly.

Then he leaned forward and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her neck, overwhelmed.

“Chand… hum… hum maa-baap banne wale hain dobara…”

["Moon… we… we’re going to be parents again…"]

Vamika’s eyes fluttered closed as she wrapped her arms around him, her face heating in happiness and shy relief.

Dai Maa smiled and stood up.

“Main dawaiyan de deti hoon. Bahu ji ko aaram karna hoga.”

["I’ll go bring some medicines. Daughter-in-law needs rest now."]

Once she left, the door closed softly.

Yudhveer cupped Vamika’s face, his voice hushed, shaking slightly:

“Chand… tu… tu mujhe sabse badi khushiyan de rahi hain…”

["Moon… you… you’re giving me the greatest happiness…"]

Tears pricked Vamika’s eyes.

She whispered back shyly,

“Humari beti aa rahi hain…”

["Our daughter is coming…"]

Yudhveer pressed his forehead to hers.

“Han… iss baar beti hi hogi.”

["Yes… this time, it will be a daughter."]

Yudhveer stayed beside her… not moving… his thumb stroking her cheek, his eyes drinking her in as if she was the most precious thing he had ever seen.

He leaned forward and pressed a slow, reverent kiss on her forehead.

Then another on her cheek.

Then he kissed her lips softly—full of emotion, love, gratitude.

Not lust.

Not urgency.

Just pure, overwhelming love.

His voice brushed against her skin:

“Chand… mujhe ye khushi dene ke liye shukriya.”

["Moon… thank you for giving me this happiness."]

He kissed her belly, gently—protectively.

“Ab yahan ek pari pal rahi hain…”

["A little angel is growing in here now…"]

Vamika’s face burned red, but her eyes glowed with happiness.

By late afternoon, the entire family had returned home.

Yudhveer came to the room, slid an arm around Vamika’s back and said softly:

“Chal Chand… neeche chalte hain.”

["Come moon… let’s go downstairs."]

He held her carefully as they walked down the stairs—slow, gentle, protective.

Everyone was in the living room—Manorama, the kids, and other elders.

Yudhveer stood beside Vamika, one hand still around her back.

Then he announced loudly, with a proud smile:

“Humare ghar mein aur ek mehmaan aane wali hain.”

["Another guest is going to arrive in our home."]

Manorama immediately understood. Her eyes brightened, her hands came together in joy.

But the kids…

All three  looked confused.

“Kon ayegi?”

["Who will come?"]

Yudhveer smiled and looked directly at Vamika, as if giving her credit for this blessing.

Then he faced the children and said,

“Tum sabki behen aane wali hain.”

["Your sister is going to come."]

Three kids blinked.

Absolutely no expression.

No excitement.

No reaction.

They clearly had zero interest in having a baby sister.

Except—

Yagya.

His eyes widened in joy.

“Main phir se bhaiya banne wala hoon?”

["I’m going to be a big brother again?"]

Vamika smiled warmly and nodded.

The other two kids, still uninterested, casually asked:

“Kab ayegi wo?”

["When will she come?"]

The elders laughed softly at their innocence.

Yudhveer replied:

“Abhi bhi 8 mahine hain.”

["There are still 8 months left."]

The two kids nodded seriously, as if calculating something important.

Then one of them said:

“Agar wo Tara jaise ghar ghar khelegi to hum usko nahi khilayenge apne sath.”

["If she plays ghar-ghar like Tara, then we won’t play with her."]

Everyone burst into laughter—full, hearty, and affectionate.

Vamika laughed, hiding her blush in her palm.

Yudhveer shook his head with a fond smile and pulled the boys close, kissing their heads.

The elders were still laughing when Yudhveer folded his arms proudly and said:

“Theek hain tum badmash log mat khelna uske saath, lekin main, tumhari maa aur tumhari dadi khelenge uske saath. Phir tumlog humare paas mat aana, samjhe?”

["Alright you naughty boys, don’t play with her then. But I, your mother, and your grandmother will play with her. Then don’t come running to us later, understood?"]

The three boys huffed, their tiny faces scrunched in annoyance.

“Ghar ghar khelne mein maza nahi hain.”

["Playing ghar-ghar isn’t fun."]

Their stubborn innocence made everyone laugh even harder.

Yudhveer raised an eyebrow, smirking at them:

“Wo to waqt batayega beta.”

["Time will tell, son."]

The boys exchanged looks like their father had challenged their entire dignity.

Meanwhile Vamika hid her laughter, and Manorama shook her head fondly.

The house that day felt warmer… softer… filled with joy.

And the day passed in happiness, laughter, peace, and love and night came.

Even though Vamika was happy—overwhelmed, even—after seeing the results, a tiny fear sat in her heart.

She knew Yudhveer adored daughters. He always said he wanted a girl one day.

So even while excitement fluttered inside her, a knot of nervousness dug deeper.

What if it’s not a girl? What if… what if Yudhveer ji feels bad?

That thought stayed with her all day.

Night fell slowly, wrapping the house in a soft quiet.

They were lying on the bed, Yudhveer spooning her from behind, one arm securely around her waist. Vamika’s mind refused to calm down.

Finally she whispered,

“Yudhveer ji…”

Still half-asleep, his voice came low and rough against her ear,

“Bol.” ["Say it."]

Vamika slowly turned around in his arms. His hand automatically slid back to her waist, pulling her close. She hesitantly brushed her thumb along his cheek, gathering courage.

With a small, innocent voice she asked,

“Agar humein dobara ladka hua… toh aapko bura toh nahi lagega na?”

["If we have a boy again… you won’t feel bad, right?"]

“Aap mujh par gussa toh nahi karenge na?”

["You won’t get angry at me, right?"]

Her eyes were genuinely scared—like she feared disappointing him.

For a second, Yudhveer just stared… then burst into a soft laugh.

He held her hand—the one on his face—and kissed it gently.

Leaning forward, with their foreheads touching, he said softly,

“Jaan, mujhe kyun bura lagega?”

["Love, why would I feel bad?"]

“Main kyun tujh par gussa karunga?”

["Why would I ever get angry at you?"]

“Ladka ho ya ladki… hain toh humara hi ansh.”

["Boy or girl… they’re still our own blood."]

“Haan, mujhe beti chahiye lekin agar nahi mili toh?”

["Yes, I do want a daughter, but if we don’t get one?"]

“Bhagwaan ne humein jo diya, ussi se khush rahunga.”

["We’ll be happy with whatever God blesses us with."]

Then with a teasing grin, he added,

“Humare paas pehle se teen bandar hain… bas ek extra aa jayega.”

["We already have three little monkeys… one more will just join the troop."]

Both of them laughed softly in the dark.

He pulled her head gently to his chest, kissed her forehead, and stroked her hair.

“So jaa.” ["Sleep now."]

Vamika finally relaxed. She curled into him, hugging him tightly as her fears melted into sleep.