By Akshada Vanjeeswaran
Sambaar still dripping from his hand,
The nurses rushed my dad out, as per demand.
I finished my meal, my gaze fixed at my shoes,
But hospital mornings don't always mean bad news.
Adrenaline coursing through my veins,
A single thought echoing in all our brains.
Anticipation, excitement, joy and delight.
I’d been thinking about this day and night.
The sanitizer scent omnipresent in the hospital,
The shuffling of feet, the hustle and bustle.
It’s where the most important days take place,
Both the first and last time you see a loved one’s face.
Scanning the periphery, lost in thought,
My heart skipped a beat as my father, I spot.
Emerging from the shadows, a teary smile,
The jubilant face of a man who just had a child.
“It’s a boy!”, he exclaims, an ecstatic sound.
Euphoria and hugs all around.
Sweet boxes and ladoos galore,
The little one, now, everyone was waiting for.
A little while later, there he was.
A moment I’d like to forever pause.
Being wheeled out by the nurse in a bassinet,
The first time I caught a glimpse of his silhouette.
His eyes closed, he’d drifted off in a peaceful slumber.
I gingerly removed his mittens, as he gripped my finger.
His hands so tiny, a small smile upon his lips,
I was rendered motionless, mesmerised and transfixed.
In that second, I envisioned our lives together,
I wished to hold my little brother forever.
A moment where I’d never felt more delight,
Until then, I’d never believed in love at first sight.
Later that evening, I lay in the bed with my mother.
Her body exhausted, yet in her eyes a joy like no other.
Whenever I’d get up, go from the bed to the hallway,
To my brother I'd playfully whisper “Happy Birthday”.
From childhood fights to major milestones,
I’ll always be in awe of how much he has grown.
The day he gets into college, the day he meets his wife,
I’ll be there for him for the rest of our lives.
Cameras flash, phones ring,
All the family could talk about was the little king.
Relatives come, relatives go,
Gosh, I’d never eaten more ladoos before.