There was a sudden cry in the house. It came from the guest room. I was fast asleep, but awakened due to the wail. I pushed aside my blanket, hopped out of the bed and marched from my room in my favourite pink pyjamas.

There was a crowd there. I saw my mum smiling with joy, and my sisters screaming with excitement. I wondered what was the reason. I walked in and tore through the crowd of my family. What I saw made me jump with joy.

My eyes fell on a white bundle in my elder sister’s arms. I went nearer to see what it was. A baby! I couldn’t believe how tiny those hands and feet were. The baby, flushed with pink cheeks, had light brown locks, and was sleeping peacefully in my sister’s arms. How tiny was he, smaller than a bag of sugar?

How life changes in minutes! I had come back tired from school, and without bothering about anything else, I hurried to my bed. And now when I woke up, my family had already welcomed a new member! I could surely tell its gender — it wore a blue cap, a boy it was. Questions buzzed through my mind, but what I was most excited about was what are we going to name him.

We informed our grandparents, relatives, neighbours and friends, about welcoming a boy. Soon waves of guests’ started to arrive, blessing the new child, and handing in gifts and sweets. Unfortunately, I had a test the following day so I had to ignore the baby for a few hours and return to my room with my books.

But the next day was perfect. I arrived from school, changed my clothes and entered the room where the baby lay. My sisters were already there, playing with him, making sure he was safe. Then, he opened his eyes. He pushed around his legs and looked around. I was mesmerised by his beautiful chocolate brown-coloured eyes. His short lashes lingered, eyes sparkled.

“He looks like you, same face, same eyes,” mum pointed at me.

I chuckled. He did look like me. Yeah, he also had those reddish cheeks. Just then the baby flung his arms in the air, and cried and screamed. I saw why his cheeks were so red … from anger.

That day he wore a yellow romper and cap. When he cried, he looked like a gnome, a giant troll in search of a scrumptious meal. But once he was calm and playful, he was an angel as he grinned.

A few days later, he got his head shaved. Poor baby! His head looked massive and I could point out the veins in his shaved head. He looked funny, but surely adorable.

I clearly remember the first time I took the baby in my arms and carefully held him. I felt so nervous, yet so happy, holding the soft, sweet bundle of joy. He had no teeth, I found it weird. But even then he looked cuter than anything. He was so warm. I slid my small finger into his open hand and watched as he curled his hand around it. His hand was so delicate. Everything about the baby put me in deep thoughts — this little bundle of joy is depending on us today, there will come a time when he will grow up to be a handsome smart fellow. I wish for him a life full of happiness.

It felt weird, the fact I was had now taken on a new title and relation — khala. I am a khala, at the age of 14. I loved that. I can imagine my dear nephew calling me that.

Now that he is with us, I have become used to him: the frequent diaper changes, and him vomiting on anyone whenever he likes. I know it was gross, but it has brought that feeling of a baby in the house, where everyone is rushing here and there, quietening the baby and taking care of his needs.

The most exciting part is going shopping for the baby’s things. This baby got more gifts than I have ever got on all my birthdays. I must say, babies are very expensive. We had to buy him at least seven rompers, four shoes, a bathtub with Spider-Man stickers, a blue and grey crib, towels, diapers, and more diapers, and lastly, oils, creams and powders. The feeling that there is a little fellow who needs our attention, love and care, and is completely dependent on us is amazing. And I know when he grows up to be a big boy, I will miss these days.

Published in Dawn, Young World, March 18th, 2023