Chapter 7: Bittersweet Beginnings
On the day Neha gave birth, I stayed by her side as nurses, aunties, and relatives crowded the hospital corridor. WhatsApp pings never stopped, aunties argued about baby names, and Ma distributed soan papdi to everyone in sight.
Childbirth was brutal—thirteen hours of agony. I wiped Neha’s brow, whispered encouragement, and prayed silently, promising God anything for her safety. In the evening, the doctor emerged, grinning—“Mubarak ho, ladka hua hai!”
He was perfect—not even a birthmark. I snapped a photo of Neha and the baby, posted it as my WhatsApp status. My hands shook as I typed and retyped the message, wondering what people—especially Priya—would say. The phone buzzed with emojis and blessings.
Among the flood of messages, one stood out: Priya. [Congratulations, you’re a happy dad now.]
Her words sat on the screen, cold and sharp, tainting my joy.