Yugh's arrival home caused a quiet earthquake. He walked through the door not with briefcase or groceries, but with a tiny, swaddled infant cradled in the crook of his arm. š
The collective shock in the Singh living room was palpable. Yusuf, Kirana, and Mr. Singh stared, speechless. The joyful anticipation of Kirana's pregnancy was suddenly juxtaposed with the stark reality of a newborn in their midst.
Yugh didn't wait for the questions. He laid the child gently on the sofa and, with a calm born of absolute conviction, explained. He told them about Asifa, the tragic chain of events at the hospital, and the call from the orphanage. "He had no one left. He was saved in a phone as 'brother'. I couldn't leave him there," he concluded, his simple statement carrying the weight of his decision. š„ŗ
The family's initial shock melted into a mixture of awe, concern, and slow-dawning support. They gathered around the sleeping baby, a new, unexpected branch on their family tree.
The next day, Yugh sent a formal notice to AZ Studio, requesting a week's personal leave. His real journey began then. The theoretical decision met the exhausting, messy reality of infant care. The week was a brutal, beautiful crash course. The baby's cries were a foreign language he had to learn to interpret; hunger, fatigue, a wet diaper. Bathing the wriggling, slippery little body was an exercise in controlled panic. Changing diapers was a messy baptism into parenthood. He operated in a haze of sleep deprivation, his clothes often stained, his once-orderly apartment now scattered with bottles, blankets, and baby powder.
He was utterly, completely overwhelmed, but in the quiet moments, when the baby finally slept peacefully in his arms after a feed, or gazed up at him with wide, trusting eyes, a fierce, unfamiliar love began to take root, making every struggle worth it. š„±