Vanya Ki Kahani

Single father

In this story, Vanya is 14 months old. But in this story, Riddhima died and Vanya lives only with Vansh.

Vansh sat in the nursery, watching Vanya sleep peacefully in her crib. The soft glow of the nightlight cast gentle shadows across the room, highlighting the small features of his daughter—the only part of Riddhima he had left.

Every night was the same. He would tuck Vanya in, hum a lullaby he barely remembered, and then sit by her side, lost in thoughts of what could have been.

Raising Vanya alone wasn't easy. He had built an empire, made powerful decisions daily, but nothing prepared him for the sleepless nights, the endless cries, or the moments when she called out for a mother who would never return.

Tonight, though, was different. Vanya stirred in her sleep, her tiny fingers clutching the air before settling against the fabric of her blanket. Vansh sighed and leaned back. "I hope I'm doing this right, Riddhima," he whispered to the quiet room.

Morning would come soon, bringing another day of challenges, another day of learning to be a father without her. But for now, he stayed right where he was—beside the little girl who was his entire world.

The soft chirping of birds outside the window signaled the arrival of morning. Vansh groggily opened his eyes, realizing he had fallen asleep beside Vanya's crib again. His back ached, but when he turned to check on his daughter, a small smile formed on his lips.

Vanya was awake, sitting up in her crib with her chubby hands gripping the wooden railing. Her dark eyes, so much like Riddhima's, lit up as she saw him.

"Dada!" she squealed, bouncing slightly in excitement.

Vansh's heart melted at the sound of her voice. No matter how exhausted he was, that one word—"Dada"—made everything feel worth it. He leaned forward, brushing a gentle hand over her soft curls.

"Good morning, princess," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Vanya giggled, her tiny hands reaching for him. Without hesitation, Vansh scooped her up, holding her close as she nuzzled against his chest. This was their routine now—waking up together, just the two of them.

"Time for a diaper change and breakfast," he sighed, standing up and carrying her to the changing table. "And let's hope today isn't as messy as yesterday."

Vanya clapped her hands, clearly having no idea what he was talking about. But Vansh hadn't forgotten—yesterday's breakfast disaster had ended with more food on the floor than in her stomach.

After freshening her up, he took her downstairs to the kitchen. Placing her in her high chair, he tied a bib around her tiny neck. "Alright, princess, what shall we have today? Porridge? Or maybe some fruit?"

Vanya responded by banging her tiny fists on the tray, letting out an excited squeal.

Vansh sighed. "I'll take that as a 'both.'"

As he prepared breakfast, he couldn't help but think about how different life had become. Mornings used to be about meetings, deals, and schedules. Now, they were about baby giggles, tiny hands reaching for food, and the constant fear of whether he was doing enough.

But as he placed a spoonful of porridge near Vanya's mouth and watched her take a small bite with an adorable hum of approval, he realized something—this was his new purpose. She was his entire world now.

And he would do anything to protect her.

After breakfast, Vansh cleaned up the mess—a new daily struggle he was slowly getting used to. Vanya had managed to get porridge in her hair, on the high chair, and even on his shirt. He sighed, shaking his head. "You really enjoy making me work, don't you, princess?"