11. The First Song
The cabin felt peaceful the moment they entered, like the world outside had paused just for them.
Shivika lay back on the examination bed, the white sheet rustling beneath her.
Rakshit stood near her head—not too close, not too far—like he was scared to disturb her but also scared to miss even a second.
The doctor applied the cool gel on her stomach. Shivika flinched lightly, and Rakshit leaned forward instantly.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low, almost instinctive.
"Hm," she hummed, giving him a small smile.
But his eyes didn't leave her face until she relaxed again.
Then, slowly, he looked at the monitor.
The doctor placed the probe, and the hum of the machine filled the room. A second later, the small figure appeared on the screen.
Tiny, curled, moving just a little.
Rakshit's breath hitched.
Everything inside him went still.
His fingers dug lightly into the side of the bed as if holding himself steady.
Shivika noticed the way his shoulders trembled—not visibly, but enough for her to feel the shift in the air.
"There," the doctor smiled, "your baby is growing very well."
Shivika turned her head toward him. His eyes weren’t just soft, they were emotional, overwhelmed, full of wonder.
She reached out and held his hand gently.
He blinked, like waking from a trance, and clutched her hand back as if he desperately needed that grounding touch.
The tiny heartbeat flickered on the screen—fast, strong.
Rakshit swallowed hard.
Shivika’s eyes warmed. Seeing him like this, quiet, open, unguarded made her heart ache in the sweetest way.
She brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, and he leaned ever so slightly toward her without realizing.
The doctor adjusted the angle, making the image clearer.
Shivika felt her eyes sting with happy tears.
Rakshit didn’t even blink—he just stared, as if afraid the moment would slip away if he looked anywhere else.
"And since Shivika has entered her fifth month," the doctor continued kindly, "very soon she'll feel proper baby movements. Little kicks… tiny rolls. It’s a very special phase."
Rakshit turned to her so quickly, like he needed to confirm this new joy with her first.
"Kicks?" he asked in a whisper, wonder filling his voice.
"Yes," the doctor chuckled, "anytime now."
The scan continued for a few more minutes. Rakshit didn't let go of her hand even once.
When the doctor wiped the gel off, he immediately bent and helped her to stand properly.
It wasn't loud care.
It was silent. Natural. His style.
A little while later, they sat opposite the doctor.
The doctor opened the file.
"Everything looks perfect. In this phase, she'll need more rest. Proper meals. Hydration."
Rakshit nodded with full attention, every word sinking deep.
"I'll take care."
The doctor smiled, amused at how seriously he was listening.
Rakshit immediately looked at Shivika.
He didn't speak.
His eyes asked softly, 'Is it okay? Will you be comfortable with that?'
Shivika's heart fluttered. She blinked once, gently, giving her yes.
Then she smiled at him—a small, sweet smile meant only for him.
ONLY then he turned back to the doctor.
"I will," he said quietly, but with a firmness that held feeling.
They stepped out of the doctor's cabin in quiet.
The hallway felt brighter than before, but neither of them spoke as they walked toward the exit.
Shivika held the file close, and Rakshit stayed beside her, his steps slowing whenever hers did, instinctive, silent.
He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for her. She sat down carefully, and he closed the door gently, almost too gently, like he was scared of making noise around her.
When he got in and shut his door, the car fell into soft silence.
He didn't start the engine right away. He just sat there, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, staring at nothing and everything at the same time.
She looked down at the file in her lap, then back at him. His jaw was relaxed, but his eyes were still carrying something—something warm and unsure.
"You were emotional," she said quietly.
He didn’t deny it.
"I was," he admitted.
She reached out, her fingers brushing the back of his hand lightly—just enough for him to feel her presence.
Rakshit turned his hand slightly, letting her touch settle. A soft tension eased from his shoulders. For a moment, neither of them looked away.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked.
"Of course."
He hesitated, searching for the right words.
"That's normal," she whispered.
"It's a special phase."
Shivika’s eyes softened.
"You will be."
Shivika watched him for a few seconds. Then, without saying a word, she reached for his hand.
He tensed—not pulling back, just surprised.
She held his hand gently, her fingers curling around his.
Then she guided his hand toward her stomach and placed it there herself, covering his hand with hers.
Rakshit went completely still.
His eyes flicked to her face, almost asking Are you sure?
But she was already giving him a soft, reassuring smile.
The words hit him harder than he imagined.
His jaw tightened, breath shaking just barely not in sadness, but in something deeper… gratitude, disbelief, emotion he still didn't know how to name.
He looked down at her stomach under his palm, then back at her.
"No," he said quietly, voice thick with sincerity.
The softness in his tone made her eyes sting.
She tightened her hold on his hand, keeping it there on her stomach.
His thumb brushed softly once—barely a movement—but full of meaning.
He wasn't claiming anything.
He wasn't forcing anything.
He was simply… accepting.
And that made it even more beautiful.
"You really mean that?" she asked, her voice almost trembling.
Rakshit nodded slowly.
Silence settled again, but this time it was warm—filled with something gently blooming between them.
He didn't move his hand away.
She didn't want him to.
After a few long moments, he whispered,
He finally looked up, meeting her gaze.
As the car began to move, his hand stayed in hers for a few extra seconds before he finally let go—slowly, reluctantly.
Rakshit's focus was on the road while Shivika's was on him.
( Never thought a day would come when a stranger would become more than my own, and the people who were mine would feel distant. )
"Isn't there any music in the car?" Shivika asked as she switched on the speaker.
"No. I don’t hear songs, that’s why." Rakshit replied casually.
"What?? Are you serious?" Shivika almost shouted, eyes widening.
"That means you never heard any song?" she asked again, leaning slightly toward him as if confirming.
"Hm," Rakshit hummed, giving her a short glance before focusing back on the road.
"Oh my god, Rakshit… you are really something else," Shivika sighed dramatically and unlocked her phone.
She scrolled for a few seconds and smiled, "Waise toh my choice changes with my mood, but currently this is my favourite song."
She pressed play — ‘Jogi’.
Soft music filled the car, and without waiting, Shivika started singing along, her voice low and sweet.
"Main ta tere naal hi rehna ji
Har gam sang tere sehna ji
Main ta tere naal hi rehna ji
Har gam sang tere sehna ji…"
(I just want to stay with you,
To endure every sorrow with you.
All I want is to remain by your side,
Sharing every joy and every pain with you.)
Rakshit’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
He didn't understand how… but the words were sinking inside him.
It was the first song of his life, and somehow it felt like someone had put his unspoken emotions into a rhythm he never knew he needed.
He glanced at Shivika.
She was singing softly, eyes partly on him, partly lost in the music like she was offering him a piece of her world.
For a man who had never let himself feel anything, this was overwhelming… almost frightening.
Why did it feel like the song was speaking for him?
Why did it feel… warm?
Her voice pulled him back again.
"Jo jag se kaha na jaaye, vo
Mujhko bas tujse kehna ji…"
(The things I can’t say to the world…
I just want to say them to you.)
Shivika smiled as she sang, completely unaware of the storm happening inside him.
To her, it was just a song — something she loved.
But to him…
It was the first time in years he felt seen without saying a word.
She continued, her tone playful this time:
"Sohna–sohna, itna bhi kaise tu sohna?
Sohna–sohna, itna bhi kaise tu sohna?"
(Beautiful… how can someone be this beautiful?
So beautiful… how are you this beautiful?)
Rakshit exhaled slowly.
He still didn't understand songs.
But if this… this warmth, this strange peace in his chest…
If this was what music felt like —
Maybe he didn't mind learning,
as long as she was the one who showed him.
Shivika looked at him again, her gaze softening.
For her, it was simple — she wanted him to experience something he had never felt.
But for him…
It was more than music.
It was her voice, her presence, the sudden realization that she was unknowingly becoming his silence, his calm, his first taste of something gentle.
The song kept flowing, the lines with a deeper softness each time, filling the car with a warmth Rakshit didn't know he could feel.
Shivika’s voice grew gentler as she sang the last lines she knew—
"Sohna–sohna, itna bhi kaise tu sohna…"
((Beautiful… how can someone be this beautiful?)
And with that, she leaned her head slightly toward the window, humming along as the music continued.
Rakshit didn't know when his breath started slowing when his chest stopped feeling tight…
The music played on, soft and emotional, the kind that wraps itself around pain and softens it without asking permission.
Shivika turned her face toward him again.
Her eyes were smiling.
As if she had just seen a part of him he never shows to anyone.
Rakshit swallowed, keeping his eyes on the road, but she knew he was listening — not to the song, but to her.
Another verse of the melody drifted in the background.
He finally spoke, voice lower than usual.
"It's strange…"
Shivika looked at him, waiting.
Her breath hitched because that was the most honest sentence he had said in days.
She didn’t interrupt.
She just let the moment be.
The music softened again, the same emotional tune replaying, and this time something shifted inside her too.
She had always loved this song…
but today, hearing it with him, seeing it soften the corners of a man who never lets himself feel, it meant something else entirely.
Without thinking, Shivika reached out and rested her hand lightly on his arm.
Just a touch.
A small one.
But enough.
Rakshit didn't pull away.
He simply let the moment exist.
Outside, the world kept moving — cars passing, people walking — but inside their car, everything felt still.
Not romantic.
Not dramatic.
Just… quietly life-changing.
The song faded into its final soft notes, and Rakshit whispered without looking at her—
"Play it again?"
Shivika's heart skipped.
She smiled.
And hit replay.
The song restarted, flowing gently through the car, and this time the silence between them was warmer… fuller.
Shivika leaned back, her fingers still resting on his arm — not tightly, not awkwardly.
Just… there.
Rakshit didn't say anything, but his eyes softened every time the melody brushed through the speakers, as if each note loosened something he'd kept locked for years.
After a minute, Shivika spoke, voice quieter than before.
"So? First song of your life… how does it feel?"
Rakshit took a breath, thinking.
"Heavy," he admitted.
"But… in a good way."
Shivika's heart warmed.
The music dipped into another soft beat, and her voice dropped even lower.
Rakshit glanced at her, brows slightly pulled together.
Something flickered in his eyes, and he looked away again like the thought hit somewhere deep.
The road stretched quietly ahead of them, sunlight sliding through the windshield, brushing his face in warm strokes.
Shivika watched the way the light touched him.
And without knowing when the words formed inside her, she whispered,
The song played on, its emotion brushing over the both of them again.
Shivika’s fingers gently slipped lower, and without a word, she took his hand in hers, and sat holding his hand on her lap.
They didn't know the moment this bond began…
but someday, quietly and naturally,
from holding hands — they would begin holding each other in their arms.