BONUS 8
6 years later ( when Saisha is 5 years old)
"Papa, I'm home!" Saisha's chirpy voice echoed through the Singhania Mansion like sunshine bouncing off glass.
I was in the study, grading some final-year papers red pen in hand, glasses pushed up my nose, and that famous Khadoos Professor Singhania scowl very much in place.
Until I heard... another voice.
A boy voice.
"Hi, Uncle!"
My brows shot up.
Uncle?
I walked out of the study slowly suspicious, cautious... and mentally preparing myself.
And there she was. My tiny tornado. My Saisha. Dressed in her kindergarten uniform, piggy tails bouncing, glitter shoes on and holding hands with a boy.
A BOY.
A little gremlin with chocolate-smeared cheeks, lopsided hair, and a superhero backpack bigger than his torso.
"Papa," Saisha said with a bright, innocent smile, "This is Aryan. He's my boyfriend!"
Pause. Freeze. World tilt.
I blinked.
"Sorry. What?"
Aryan grinned at me like he just won the jackpot. "Hi, Uncle. I like Saisha. She gave me her strawberry cupcake. And I gave her my action figure. So now we're together."
I turned to Saisha, who nodded with all the sincerity in the world.
"That's how marriage works, right?"
I dropped the papers I was holding.
Maya entered the scene, saw my expression, and immediately started laughing behind her hand. Laughing! Traitor.
"I'm going to jail," I muttered.
Saisha tugged at my sleeve. "Papa, can Aryan stay for snacks?"
"No," I said calmly, squatting to her eye level. "Beta, you're not allowed to have a boyfriend until you're at least 30."
"But Mama said I can have one if he's nice!"
I shot Maya a look. She gave me a shrug and a wink. I was outnumbered in my own house.
Aryan held out his hand. "I like books, Uncle! And I don't throw sand in the playground anymore."
I was proud of him. For a full five seconds.
But I still wasn't ready.
"Saisha," I said gently, "why don't you and Aryan go play in the living room?"
"Okay!" she beamed, and skipped away with him, giggling.
I turned to Maya. "Meri beti abhi paanch saal ki hai. Paanch. And she has a boyfriend?"
Maya leaned into me, whispering through her laughter, "Just wait until she's sixteen."
I stared at her, horrified. "No. I'm sending her to a convent in the Himalayas."
"She's literally five, Rudra."
"She needs discipline. I'm drawing a contract. No dating until 30. Or I die. Whichever comes first."
Maya kissed my cheek. "Relax, Mr. Khadoos. This is just the beginning."
And as I peeked into the living room, where Aryan was now braiding Saisha's doll's hair like a professional hairstylist while she clapped for himβI sighed.
This kid had potential. Too much potential.
God help me.
Let me get one thing straight.
I am not jealous.
I'm just... observant. Extremely observant.
So when a certain chocolate-loving, sand-throwing little boy decided to casually stroll into my house, steal my daughter's cupcake and her affection in the span of five minutes of course I noticed.
And now? Now he was sitting on the living room carpet, drawing a heart with "A + S" inside it.
I stood behind the sofa, arms crossed like a bodyguard on high alert, watching them like a hawk.
"Rudra," Maya whispered, tugging my kurta sleeve. "You're literally scowling at a five-year-old."
"He drew a heart. With initials."
"He can't even spell 'banana' yet."
"And he said I was old," I snapped. "Old!"
Maya bit her lip, holding back a laugh. "You're acting like she brought home a biker."
"She basically did. A biker in light-up shoes."
I walked over casually well, as casual as a professor-father-turned-jealous-detective can walk and sat on the other side of Saisha.
"Hi Aryan," I said smoothly, giving him the tiniest smile. "So... what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Aryan grinned. "A rockstar! Or a lizard scientist."
Maya choked in the background.
"Interesting," I said flatly. "Do you have any criminal background?"
Aryan blinked. "I threw mud once."
Figures.
"What's your stance on pocket money management?"
"What?"
"Do you know algebra yet?"
Saisha frowned. "Papa, stop your scary professor voice!"
I gave Aryan a narrowed look. He gave me a gummy smile.
I was losing.
Later, in the kitchen, I leaned against the counter while Maya tried (and failed) to stop giggling.
"You know you're jealous, right?"
"I am not jealous," I grumbled.
"You're acting like Saisha married him and moved to Paris."
"She basically did," I muttered. "She gave him her cupcake. Do you know how hard she guards her cupcakes?"
Maya leaned up and kissed my jaw. "Relax, Mr. Khadoos. No one's stealing your girl."
I sighed. "She called him handsome."
"She calls the neighbor's dog handsome."
"...still."
Maya wrapped her arms around me, eyes twinkling. "You'll always be her number one."
"Damn right."
And just then, Saisha came in holding a crayon drawing of the three of us me, her, and Aryan.
"Papa, don't worry," she said seriously, "You'll still walk me down the aisle. But I'm marrying Aryan at the playground first."
I nearly passed out.
I've dealt with midterms, broken chalks, stubborn students, chaotic in-laws, mood-swinging My little furball,and sleep deprivation.
But nothing.nothing prepared me for fatherhood.
Especially not for this version: a tiny tornado named Saisha, who has a glitter obsession and thinks unicorns are real (and might live in our backyard).
After the whole "Aryan is my boyfriend" saga, I needed a break. Just a quiet moment with my daughter. To remind myself she's still my little girl.
So, I took her out to the balcony that evening. The sky was tinged pink and orange, a soft breeze ruffling her curls as she sipped on chocolate milk and swung her legs on the bench beside me.
I looked down at her, this miniature storm who somehow became the calm in my chaos. "You planning to break more hearts when you grow up?"
She looked up, confused. "Why would I break hearts, Papa?"
I smirked. "Because you already broke mine."
Her tiny brows knitted. "I didn't mean to."
"I know, sunshine," I said, brushing her hair back gently. "But when you said Aryan was your boyfriend, I got a little... jealous."
She giggled. "Papa! That was pretend!"
I raised a brow. "Really?"
"Obviously!" she rolled her eyes in perfect Maya-style sass. "He can't even spell my name."
I chuckled. "Smart girl."
Then she reached up, wrapping her little arms around my neck tightly and whispered against my ear, "I love you, Papa. You are my real boyfriend forever."
I froze.
My heart? Done. Melted. Destroyed. Rebuilt and handed over to a Five-year-old in pigtails and pink bunny socks.
I held her close, closing my eyes. "And you, Saisha... will always be my first love."
From the doorway, Maya stood watching us, her hand over her heart, smiling through teary eyes. She didn't say anything, just came over, sat beside us, and rested her head on my shoulder.
Thisβthis was the life I never knew I wanted.
The once cold, grumpy professor...
Now husband to the most chaotic, loving woman.
Father to a drama queen in training.
And as the sun set behind the city, painting the world in soft gold, Saisha yawned and cuddled in my lap, whispering, "Papa?"
"Yes, princess?"
"Can I have a unicorn for my birthday?"
I sighed.
Back to reality.
We all started laughing together.
Together, Happy, Family of three
THE END