The nursery door clicked softly behind them. Kiaan was finally asleep, curled in his little blanket, his tiny chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm.
Kiara and Yuvaan stumbled into their bedroom, laughing before they even reached the bed. Their laughter filled the room, echoing softly against the walls like a shared secret.
"He is unbelievable," Kiara said, flopping onto the mattress, arms outstretched. "I don't know how he does it—he's only nine months, and yet… it feels like he's been running this house for years."
Yuvaan collapsed beside her, breathless from laughter. "And he's already teaching us endurance, patience, diplomacy… and the art of chasing him around."
Kiara rolled her eyes, smiling fondly. "I swear, this house was so quiet before… now it feels alive. He's the chaos we never knew we needed."
Yuvaan leaned over her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "He definitely got his energy from both of us. But mostly me, I think," he teased, his lips brushing hers in a slow, lingering kiss.
Kiara laughed, but didn't resist as he climbed on top of her, pressing close. Their laughter turned to soft, breathy whispers, a quiet intimacy after the chaos of the day.
"And you know…" Yuvaan murmured playfully against her lips, "maybe we should think about having… another one."
Kiara's eyes went wide. She pushed him gently, but firmly. "UPS! One is more than enough! We barely survived this day. And you're talking about another one?"
Yuvaan grinned, undeterred, as she laughed and shook her head. "Besides… we should get some rest. Kiaan's first hair-shaving ceremony is tomorrow. We'll need all our energy to survive that little whirlwind again."
He chuckled, pulling her close. "Alright, alright… you're right. But just so you know—I'm keeping score for next time."
Kiara laughed again, letting her head sink into the pillow, warmth and love wrapping around them. "Score all you want, UPS… just don't wake the baby. And don't even think about scaring me with your 'next time' ideas tonight."
Yuvaan pressed a soft kiss to her temple, and they settled into the bed, the quiet night embracing them at last. Their laughter softened to sighs, their playful teasing fading into the comfort of each other's arms. Outside the window, the moonlight shimmered over the mansion, a silent witness to their perfectly imperfect little family.
🌅 Morning – Kiaan's First Hair-Shaving Ceremony
The sun had barely risen, painting the sky in soft golds and pinks, when the mansion buzzed with quiet preparation.
Chandrika and Bhoomi moved briskly among the staff, giving last-minute instructions. "Make sure the puja altar is perfectly aligned," Bhoomi said, adjusting flowers and incense. "And all the dark yellow outfits need to be spotless—today is special."
"Everything has to be precise," Chandrika added, inspecting the arrangements. "The priest, the barber, the offerings… everyone needs to be ready before Yuvaan and Kiara arrive with Kiaan."
Kiara peeked around the corner, holding Kiaan in her arms. He squirmed slightly, curious about the bustling activity around him, his tiny hands reaching for the garlands and brass vessels. Yuvaan walked beside her, smiling at the chaos that had become a quiet, familial ritual.
"Alright, little man," Yuvaan whispered to Kiaan, "today is a big day. You're going to be so brave, just like papa says."
Kiaan wriggled and cooed, but there was no hint of fear—only curiosity and mischief sparkling in his eyes.
Some time later....
The priest arrived, carrying his puja thali, his calm presence contrasting with the subtle flurry of activity. The barber followed, carrying the tools neatly wrapped, a professional but gentle air about him.
Everyone settled around the puja altar. The dark yellow fabrics glimmered softly in the morning light, creating a warm, festive atmosphere.
The priest began the ritual, chanting softly while sprinkling holy water. Kiaan's little arms waved randomly, grabbing at the falling petals and ribbons, occasionally smearing the vermillion powder on his cheeks. Kiara laughed softly, gently holding him closer.
Yuvaan, standing beside her, whispered, "He's going to give the priest a heart attack if he keeps that up."
Kiara shook her head with a smile. "He's mischievous, yes. But it's part of the charm."
As the puja concluded, Kiaan's expression changed. His tiny mouth opened in a wail, loud and insistent. He squirmed in Kiara's arms, tears starting to well up.
"Why is he crying so much today?" Kiara murmured, concerned, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. "He's never reacted this way before…"
Yuvaan bent down, rubbing Kiaan's back gently. "It's okay, little man. It's just the haircut. Soon, it'll be over."
The barber approached carefully, setting up his tools. Kiaan's cries intensified, sounding almost like a protest against the impending trim. Yet, there was an almost comical gravity to his tiny face, as if he understood that this was a serious ritual.
Kiara whispered softly in his ear, trying to calm him, "It's okay, sweetheart. Everyone's here. Papa's here. I'm here. You'll be fine."
Yuvaan added in a soothing tone, "And think of it this way—after this, you'll look even more handsome than you already are."
Kiaan blinked through his tears, still letting out little cries, but Yuvaan and Kiara exchanged a quiet glance, sharing a smile full of amusement and love. Their baby, their little chaos-bringer, had once again reminded them that even the simplest rituals became adventures with him around.
And with that, the barber gently began shaving Kiaan's hair, while Kiara softly hummed a tune, trying to distract him, and Yuvaan held his tiny hands, keeping the moment tender, chaotic, and full of love.