Learning The Alphabet... Arshi Style! [COMPLETED] - Page 27

She was red and howling even louder when he finally reached the hospital. Her screams almost split his ears. Arnav tried to lift her up in her arms again but she would not let him. Panting she staggered out of the car, his hands hovering around her in the desperate attempt to do something to help. But his wife did not seem to like it, for she swatted them away, irritated and growling.

The doctors and nurses arrived almost immediately and she was hastily laid out on a stretcher. Then only, her eyes wide with shock and fear, she reached out for him, and with a comforting but frightened smile, he allowed her to hold on to his hand. She squeezed it to the point of nearly squishing it as another wave of pain racked through her. He gulped and bore the pain. This was perhaps only a pinch compared to what she was going through. The woman at the yoga classes had been right after all... This was no easy task...

He walked along her as she was rolled inside. Just as they reached the threshold of one of those examinations rooms, the doctor eyed him uncertainly before turning to Khushi.

"Are you okay with your husband coming in, Mrs Raizada?"

Her grip tightened even more and she nodded frantically. She tugged slightly and he took a step closer, his heart hammering. Maybe in a few more minutes, he would even be able to see it bounce out and away?

***

She was not ready yet. It had been more than twelve hours since he had brought her in, one day had slipped into the other and she was still not ready for the baby to come out but the pain... It did not just persist, it intensified. The nurses came by from time to time to check on her but he was constantly by her side, dabbing at her sweaty face with his handkerchief.

"Tum theek ho?" he whispered after each contraction, pale with worry, holding on to her like he was a drowning man and she was his last hope. (Are you alright?)

She would smile softly, the tiredness on her face growing every minute, and she would nod slowly, breathing as though she was running a marathon. Her hand often tried to smooth his frown away, but it was etched there, so she contented herself with rubbing his cheek reassuringly until the next wave hit.

"Lagta hai, aapki beti ko apna kamra kuchh ziaada hi achha laga!" she laughed breathlessly in a feeble attempt to joke. But Arnav glared back at her darkly without any trace of humour. (I think your daughter liked her room too much!)

He felt each millisecond of her pain in himself. It was intolerable. Why couldn't those ass-holes that the world called doctors remove this baby from her? Couldn't they see how much pain it was giving her? He knew it was his own baby but still... Of course that was why! It was his baby! If he, being the father, had always given Khushi so much pain, what else could he expect from his offspring? His muscles coiled in apprehension, he pressed her knuckles against his lips as she writhed again, screaming, its sound sending a shiver down his spine.

"I'm sorry," he muttered against her skin when it passed, while he wiped the sweat away from her face. "I'm so sorry, Khushi..."

She weakly raised her hand to smack his cheek.

"What the-?" he erupted, startled by the sudden attack.

But she fearlessly tugged at his hand to pull him closer. He leaned closer to her. "Galti aapki hai, ho aap maafi maang rahe hain?" she croaked. (Is it your fault that you are asking forgiveness for?)

He scowled down at her, trying to find a retort to that, but the door opened and Anjali peeked in cautiously. She was wearing an anxious mask too. Arnav nodded once to give her the permission to come in and she walked straight to her sister-in-law. Anjali smiled and caressed Khushi's head, smoothing her hair back with motherly affection.

"Aap... theek to hain, na?" (You... are fine, aren't you?)

Khushi winced but managed to choke out a little giggle. "Haan, Di, bas bhookh lag rahi hai..." (Yes, Di, I'm just a bit hungry...)

"Khushi!" her husband growled. "Doctor ne kaha-" (Khushi! The doctor said-)

"Khushiji mazaak kar rahi hain, Chhote!" his sister scolded him and continued caressing Khushi's forehead in a comforting way. Another spasm hit and the siblings stilled in silence while the other person gasped for breath. (She's joking, Chhote!)

Anjali looked at her brother. He was clearly feeling bad. Maybe he was even chastising himself, holding himself responsible for his wife's condition. She could not help but smile. He was, of course! But only partially. The poor man was only guilty of loving her so much. She patted her younger brother head with her free hand as Khushi eventually calmed down, getting his attention at last.

"Aisa sab ke saath hota hai, Chhote. Kabhi kabhi isse bhi bhayaanak hota hai, lekin jab aap dono pehli baar apni iss nanhi si jaan to apni godh mein loge, na, to yeh darr, dard, sab kuchh sirf ek bura sapna banker eh jaayega." (This happens to everyone, Chhote. Sometimes it's more horrible, but when you will hold this tiny life of yours, all this fear, pain, everything will be like an old bad dream.)

Arnav could only gaze at her miserably before turning back to Khushi, who smiled bravely despite her pain, like she had always done, and ran a hand across her bump. A little more time, and her baby would be in her arms...

***

The nurse strolled in casually, only to stop, petrified with shock when Arnav glared up to roar at her.

"Dammit! Can't you see how much she is suffering? Get it out of her!"

His wife squeezed his hand to tell him not to lash out on the poor, faultless woman who fearfully scurried about to check on Khushi. The nurse's face paled suddenly and she hurried out as though she were on fire and before Arnav could react, there was a horde of fellow nurses who had barged in, frantically checking on Mrs Raizada. The doctor arrived too and he felt her hand tighten around his as orders were issued.

"What the hell is happening?" he growled. Fear formed a hot liquid lump in his throat but he couldn't gulp it down.

"She is ready," the doctor replied with impatient calmness.

***

"I won't die, will I?" she cried.

He gritted his teeth together, feeling sweat trickle down the side of his own face. "Shut up and do what you've been told to, dammit!"

Her face crumple with pain as another contraction tore her body and he regretted being harsh at once. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Khushi, I didn't mean to..." he whispered, bending over her to kiss her hair lightly. "Just... Just push, okay? Marne ki baat mat karo, you know how I hate that!" (...Don't talk about dying, ...)

Sighing with resignation, she just cupped his face in her free hand and nodded.

***

Her last scream was weaker and another wail mingled with it, stronger, with a higher pitch. She collapsed with exhaustion, breathing heavily, her hair, damp with sweat, fanned around her head like an aureole of black. He released a short, breathless laugh, turning to glance at the nurse who was cradling the baby, wrapped in a stark white towel, while his hold tightened on her hand. He kissed it softly.

"You did it, Khushi," he mouthed at her. She smiled at him, her eyes filling up.

"Laad Devi ya Sanka Governor?"

Arnav chuckled and shook his head, glancing again at the nurse, now moving towards them. "You tell me."

The nurse beamed at the new parents and started lowering the little bundle to Khushi but she shook her head and looked firmly at her husband. "Pehle aap..." (You first...)