Murtasim Khan sat quietly in the dimly lit room, his heartbeat racing with a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. This wasn’t the usual thrill he got from winning a land dispute or the satisfaction of being the eldest son of the Khan family. No, this feeling was foreign, something deep, tender, and overwhelming. He was about to meet his daughter for the very first time.
The last few days had been a whirlwind. He had been away on an urgent business trip, and when he’d returned to Khan Haveli late last night, he’d heard the news from his mother, Maa Begum, who met him at the door with eyes full of tears and pride.
“Meerab… she gave birth. It’s a girl, Murtasim. You have a daughter.”
Her words had struck him with a force he hadn’t anticipated. A daughter. A tiny being, part of him and part of Meerab, had come into the world in his absence. For a long time, he had just stood there, unable to form words, processing what this truly meant. A family. A daughter. The thought filled him with both excitement and fear. Would he be able to handle this new responsibility? Would he be a good father?
Now, hours later, he found himself sitting outside Meerab’s room, feeling both eager and apprehensive. He hadn’t seen Meerab yet; she’d been resting, recovering from the difficult delivery. He’d only caught a brief glimpse of his daughter through the glass of the nursery window—a tiny bundle swathed in soft pink, her small face barely visible. It was surreal.
He drew in a shaky breath, feeling his palms sweat. Despite his usual calm demeanor, this moment felt too big, too monumental. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared to face it.
Finally, the door creaked open, and Anila, his aunt, peeked out, a gentle smile on her face. “Murtasim, come in. She’s waiting for you.”
He stood, feeling like he was moving through water, his feet heavy with a nervous anticipation. As he entered the room, his eyes were immediately drawn to the bed, where Meerab lay, propped up by pillows, looking exhausted yet radiant in a way he’d never seen before. In her arms, nestled close to her chest, was a tiny bundle.
Meerab looked up, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. She looked different—her face softer, her eyes filled with an unspoken emotion that tugged at his heart. She was a mother now, and he… he was a father.
“Come here,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Meet our daughter.”
He took a step forward, and then another, his hands trembling as he reached the bedside. He stared down at the small bundle in Meerab’s arms, hardly daring to breathe. The baby’s face was peaceful, her tiny features perfect and delicate, her small hands curled into fists as she slept soundly.
“She’s… she’s beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Meerab smiled, her gaze tender as she looked at him. “Do you want to hold her?”
Murtasim felt a lump in his throat as he nodded. He reached out, and Meerab carefully transferred the tiny bundle into his arms, guiding his hands to support her head. As he held her close, a wave of emotion washed over him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The weight of her, so small and fragile, filled him with an overwhelming protectiveness he couldn’t describe.
The room fell silent, save for the soft breathing of the baby and the rhythmic beating of Murtasim’s heart. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, studying every inch of her tiny face, the curve of her cheeks, the flutter of her eyelids as she dreamed. She was perfect, more perfect than anything he’d ever seen.
“Meesam,” Meerab’s voice broke through his reverie, bringing his attention back to her. “I named her Meesam.”
He looked at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Meesam… it’s beautiful.”
“Just like her,” Meerab whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She reached out, gently brushing her fingers over Meesam’s head, her touch filled with a mother’s love.
Murtasim felt his heart swell, a lump forming in his throat. He glanced back down at Meesam, marveling at how something so small could make him feel so much. She was a part of him, of them, a tangible symbol of the love he shared with Meerab, even if neither of them had ever put it into words.
“Look at her,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “She’s… she’s so small.”
Meerab chuckled softly, her voice tired but filled with warmth. “She’ll grow. Just like every child does. But for now… she’s our little Meesam.”
As he held her close, Meesam stirred, her tiny mouth forming an adorable pout as she shifted in his arms. Murtasim’s heart skipped a beat, afraid he’d woken her, but she settled quickly, her small hand clinging onto his finger. That simple touch, her tiny fingers wrapping around his, sent a shock of warmth through him.
“She’s holding my finger, Meerab,” he whispered, his eyes wide with wonder. “She’s holding my finger.”
Meerab smiled, watching him with a look that held both love and amusement. “She knows her baba. She already trusts you.”
Those words struck him deeply. The weight of his responsibility settled on his shoulders, but it was a burden he welcomed, a role he wanted to fulfill with every fiber of his being.
“I promise I’ll protect her, Meerab,” he said softly, his voice filled with conviction. “I’ll protect her with everything I have. No harm will ever come to her as long as I’m around.”
Meerab reached out, placing her hand over his, her eyes glistening with emotion. “I know you will, Murtasim. You’ll be a wonderful father. I can see it already.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, simply watching Meesam as she slept, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. Murtasim couldn’t help but marvel at how something so small could fill a room with so much love, so much warmth.
After a while, Meerab broke the silence, her voice soft. “Do you know… when I first found out I was expecting her, I was terrified.”
Murtasim looked at her, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Terrified? Why?”
Meerab hesitated, glancing down at her hands. “I didn’t know if… if we were ready. If I was ready. I didn’t know what kind of mother I would be, or if you’d be able to… love her.”
His heart clenched at her words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Meerab… you don’t have to worry about that. From the moment I saw her, I loved her. She’s… she’s ours. How could I not love her?”
A tear slipped down Meerab’s cheek, and she nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I know that now. Seeing you with her… it’s everything I could have hoped for.”
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his voice a whisper. “Thank you… for giving me this gift. For giving me her.”
Meerab looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love. “She’s as much yours as she is mine, Murtasim. We made her… together.”
The words lingered between them, heavy with meaning. For a long time, they had been hesitant, unwilling to express the depth of their feelings, caught up in misunderstandings and stubborn pride. But now, with Meesam in their lives, everything felt different.
As they sat there, watching their daughter sleep, Murtasim felt a sense of peace settle over him. He knew, without a doubt, that this was where he was meant to be. Here, with Meerab and Meesam, he had finally found his home.
Gently, he shifted Meesam in his arms, cradling her close as he looked at Meerab, his voice filled with determination. “From now on, everything I do, every choice I make, will be for you and for her. I promise you that.”
Meerab nodded, her own eyes filled with a newfound sense of hope. They both knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, that there would be challenges and struggles, but as long as they faced them together, they could overcome anything.
For the first time in a long while, Murtasim felt whole, his heart complete with the love of his family. And as he held Meesam close, he knew that he would do anything to keep them safe, to give them the happiness they deserved.
In that moment, in the quiet of the room, a new chapter began for the Khan family—one filled with love, hope, and the promise of a brighter future. And Murtasim knew, with every beat of his heart, that he would cherish every single moment of it.
