Meerab and Murtasim had a deep bond that had grown stronger through the years of their marriage. Their love had brought forth the sweet fruit of their union, little Meesam. As the night before Meesam's third birthday approached, the family gathered in her room for a playful evening.
Meesam sat on the floor, her tiny hands carefully arranging toy tea cups for her impromptu tea party. Meerab joined in, sitting cross-legged on the floor, pouring imaginary tea into the cups with a smile. Murtasim who was sat in the old rocking chair, was immersed in his laptop, a glint of nostalgia in his eyes.
His fingers traced the delicate carvings of the wooden rocking chair, he reminisced about the early days when he used to sit in this same chair with a baby sized meesam cradled in his lap while he fed her her bottle or when meerab would rock back and forth on it while she nursed meesam and hummed a soft lullaby. There were numerous times when meerab suggested that they toss the chair out but murtasim didn't have the heart to. It reminded him of when his little girl was still a baby.
With his laptop on his lap, Murtasim scoured the internet for the perfect birthday gift, a special something that would light up Meesam's eyes. He paused, unsure of what to choose, and called out to Meerab who was engrossed in play. "Meerab yaar Mujhe Samajh nahi araha ke main meesam ke liye konsa G-I-F-T loon." he whispered, spelling out "gift" to prevent Meesam from overhearing.
Meerab glanced up from the tiny tea cups she was pretending to sip from and smiled, "Ummm................
aik D-O-L-L ya koi T-E-D-D-Y B-E-A-R." Suggested meerab, also spelling out the words so meesam couldn't understand what her mama and baba were talking about.
Murtasim considered her suggestions before shaking his head, "Nahi yaar, uske paas pehle se hi ye sab kuch hai, main kuch special khareed na chahta hoon."
Meanwhile, Meesam, growing tired, crawled into her mother's lap, resting her head on Meerab's chest "mamaaaa" whined meesam. Looking up at her mother, Meesam mumbled sleepily, "Dudu peena"
Meerab leaned down, pressing a tender kiss on Meesam's rosy cheek. "Theek hai meri jaan, chalo." She picked her up and put her on her hip and made her way to the kitchen, leaving Murtasim behind in the room still browsing gifts. The rocking chair, symbolizing his daughter's growth, seemed to stir his memories.
When Meerab returned with the sippy cup of warm milk, she laid her daughter in the bed and Meesam settled in to drink the milk. Meerab stayed by her side until she drifted off to sleep, a comforting presence her baby girl needed. After Meesam was sound asleep, Meerab let out a soft yawn.
"Murtasim, main thak gayi hoon, aur subha jaldi utna hai, main sone ja rahi hoon."
He nodded, promising to join her shortly.
Murtasim, now alone in the dimly lit room, gazed at his sleeping daughter. As he looked at her, he recalled his own childhood, especially moments spent with his father, who had passed away. An idea suddenly struck him, and he opened his laptop with renewed energy.
Murtasim swiftly purchased the gift online, then stood up, laptop in hand, and approached Meesam's bed. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, "good night meri jaan, baba loves you" whispered murtasim.
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As the morning of Meesam's third birthday arrived, the house buzzed with excitement. Murtasim supervised the setup of decorations outside, directing workers to create a festive atmosphere. Inside, Meerab coordinated the kitchen, guiding the house staff in preparing a lavish feast for the guests.
