Bhargav inspected the report with me. He was hovering over my shoulder, and once I was done reading it, I handed it to him.

"Agar aap hume do se panch de sakte hai, toh hume manzoor hai," I told Uday, the dairy farm manager. He squeezed his hands nervously, "Bhairav Ji, dekhiye, humse woh mumkin nahi ho payegi kyunki-"

(If you can hike it up to five from two, we'll accept the offer.)

(Bhairav Ji, look, that's not possible for us because-)

"Kyunki aapne kisi aur se sauda banaya hai?" Bhargav chuckled and handed the report back to Uday, "Panch se ham kam nahi kar payenge, Uday Ji. Warna hamara nuksaan hoga..."

(Because you've already made a deal with someone else? We won't be able to go lower than five, Uday Ji. We'll face a loss otherwise...)

"Aapka nuksaan nahi hoga..." The man said through gritted teeth.

(It won't be a loss...)

"Mere hisaab se munafa na hona, nuksaan hone ke barabar hai. Aap chahe toh hame theen aur ke liye likh dijiye, warna mujhe kehne mei aphsos hai, Uday Ji, ham aapki madad nahi par payenge."

(As long as it's not profitable for us, it's the same as having a loss. You can either hike it up by three, Uday Ji, otherwise I'm sorry to say this, but we won't be able to help you.)

The man sat there thinking. He went through his reports over and over again, while Bhargav poured a warm cup of tea for himself. The sound of folders crashing to the floor echoed in the hall outside.

"Yeh naalayak kya kar raha hai?! Tum kaun ho?! Arey... Kaha bhaag rahe ho! Koi pakdo use!"

(What is this fool doing?! Who are you?! Hey-! Where are you running! Someone catch him!)

"Th-Thakur Ji... Thakur Ji se milna hai!"

(Th-Thakur Ji... I need to meet him!)

It was a young man's voice, and he pushed the door open to our office. He was the boy who delivered milk and newspapers at the orphanage.

"Dev?" I frowned, "Tum yaha kya kar rahe ho?"

(Dev? What are you doing here?)

"Th-Thakur Ji...! Thakur Ji...!" He panted, trying to catch his breath. Some of my men tried to stop him from entering, but I dismissed them.

"Kya hua?" Bhargav asked, squeezing his shoulder.

(What happened?)

"Thakur Ji... Ch-Chacha aur Chanda Didi... Woh... Thakurain ko lekar aspataal gayi hai."

(Thakur Ji... Ch-Chacha and Chanda Didi... They've taken the Thakurain to the hospital.)

I stood up from my chair immediately, "Sanjana? Kya hua use?"

(Sanjana? What happened to her?)

"Chachi ne mujhe bheja hai... W-woh keh rahi thi... Ki bacha aane wala hai."

(Chachi sent me here... Sh-she said... The baby is going to be born.)

My eyes widened. Without wasting another second, I walked past Dev. Bhargav said something in a hurry to the dairy farm manager. I didn't have time to think about that now.

Bhargav had the Jeep keys, and I glared at him as he fumbled with them. My patience was snapping. Even as he drove the Jeep nervously, my mind was stuck on Sanjana. I just hoped that she was fine.

As soon as Bhargav stopped the Jeep outside the hospital, I walked inside and found the maternity ward. Chandrashekhar was standing outside, pacing. He looked relieved when he saw me, "Thakur Ji... Woh... Andar hai, Chanda ke saath."

(Thakur Ji... She's inside... With Chanda.)

"Use laane ke liye shukriya," I gave him a grateful nod and went inside the ward. Chanda was standing outside a curtain, and I could hear Sanjana scream in pain.

(Thank you for bringing her.)

I was about to go into the room, but Chanda stopped me, "Nahi, Thakur Ji, aap nahi jaa sakte... Doctor ne kaha hai ki pati sirf yaha intezar kar sakta hai."

(No, Thakur Ji... You can't go inside. The doctor has said that the husband should wait here.)

I sighed in frustration and crossed my arms, leaning against the wall. If I had arrived a little earlier, then I could have offered some kind of comfort before Sanjana went into the delivery room. I just wanted her to stay strong.

In that moment, I thought about my mother as well. She would have endured the same. And in the end, she had died.

Would my wife really be alright?

I would burn the hospital down if she didn't leave the delivery room safe and sound.

A few neighbors had arrived as well. Some of them came into the maternity ward. Naman was there as well, and he was discussing something with Bhargav. There were a few elderly women who were debating the baby's gender based on my wife's screams.

I didn't care about anything. All I wanted was Sanjana and my child to be alive and healthy by the end of it all.

The doctor stepped outside at that time, "Aap pati hai?" He asked.

(Are you her husband?)

"Ji. Woh kaisi hai, Doctor?"

(Yes. How is she, Doctor?)

"Behoshi ke davai ke bina mushkil hoga... Bahut dard sehni padegi... Isliye aapse puchkar dena chahte hai. Aksar hum injection nahi dete," he gulped.

(It will be difficult without giving her anaesthesia... It will be really painful otherwise. We wanted to do it after asking you. Usually, we don't give the injection.)

"Dard sehna toh Maa ka farz hai," one of the older women spoke up. She was accusing the doctor of even suggesting it.

(Bearing pain is the mother's duty.)

"Haa, aur zyada davai bache ko bhi kamzor kar sakti hai..."

(Yes, and all these medicines can harm the child...)

People began agreeing with each other's opinions, but I was sick of it. There was no end to superstitions. I had talked with doctors before, I knew how medicines worked, and I wouldn't jeopardize my wife's life over some illiterate fools who couldn't keep their mouths shut.

"Bhargav." I said sharply, "Sabko bahar nikalo. Naman aur Chanda ke alaava yaha koi nahi dikhni chahiye!" I thundered. The people cowered in fear immediately, and Bhargav led them outside the ward.

(Bhargav, make everyone leave. I don't want to see anyone here except Naman and Chanda!)

"Doctor Saab, aapko jo bhi sahi lagta hai, woh kijiye. Main daavai par vishwas karta hoon. Biwi bahut keemti hai, use dard mat hone dijiye."

(Doctor Saab, please do what is right. I trust the medicine. My wife is important to me, and I don't want her to feel any pain.)

The doctor smiled at me, "Ji, aap chinta mat kijiye." He went back inside.

(Yes, don't worry.)

I didn't move from the wall for the next few hours. Sanjana's faint sobs and screams reverberated through the concrete, and every time I felt them, my heart clenched. Bhargav, Naman, and Chanda were standing nearby as well, equally concerned.

A heart-wrenching cry ripped through Sanjana, making me jolt. It was followed by a similar scream and broken sobs.

Was it done? Was she alright? Was the child safe?

The soft cry of a baby echoed from inside the room. I couldn't wait any longer as I went inside past the thick curtain. Sanjana was on the bed, a pool of blood between her legs. The nurses stood around her as she panted, drifting in and out of consciousness.

But I froze the moment I saw my child.

No, children.

"Mubarak ho, aap judwaa bachchon ke pita bane hain... ek ladka aur ek ladki," the doctor smiled while checking my children's vitals.

(Congratulations, you're a father of twins now. A boy and a girl.)

Twins. Sanjana had given birth to twins.

My wife fainted entirely as soon as she heard the news. It was the effect of the medicine. I squeezed her hand and kissed it.

"Chamatkar kiya hai, meri gilehri..." I wiped her damp cheeks and kissed her forehead as well. Sanjana stirred awake a bit and held my hand weakly. It looked like she'd cry any second.

(You've done a miracle, my little squirrel...)

"B-bache... Theek hai...?" She managed to whisper.

(K-kids... Are they fine...?)

"Sab theek hai, tum aaram karo... Mai sambhal lunga." I held her face against my chest. She had fought very well.

(They're fine. Take rest... I'll handle it.)

The nurses wrapped my children tightly in cotton towels before placing them in my arms. I carried them both outside carefully.

It was unbelievable to think how little they were. How unmistakably fragile and beautiful.

My daughter and son shared the same little nose. Both of them cried as though they were competing with each other. It made me smile.

But above all... To think that a crude man like myself could father something so beautiful?

It still felt surreal.

Bhargav, Chanda, and Naman gasped as I carried the twins outside the delivery room. None of us had expected it. I knew that Sanjana's stomach had been quite large, but the possibility of twins never crossed my mind.

I felt happy. Complete. And especially relieved that Sanjana and the children were in good health.