**Scene 1: The First Tremor – Sunday Silence Shattered**
Sunday dawned quiet and still over F-7, Islamabad. Haroon, relishing a rare day off, was reading the newspaper on the balcony, the scent of jasmine drifting in. Maryam sat nearby, attempting to focus on a book, but a persistent, unfamiliar tightness had been coiling low in her abdomen all morning – more insistent than the usual Braxton Hicks. Rimsha was humming in the kitchen, preparing a late breakfast.
Suddenly, the tightness intensified, sharpening into a distinct, gripping pain that stole Maryam's breath. She gasped, her book slipping from her fingers, clattering onto the tiled floor.
**Maryam (clutching her bump, voice tight with surprise and realization):** "Haroon!"
**Haroon (instantly alert, paper forgotten):** "Maryam? What is it?" He was by her side in two strides, kneeling before her chair, his eyes scanning her face, reading the mixture of shock and certainty there.
**Maryam (taking short, sharp breaths):** "It... it feels different. Stronger. Much stronger. And... regular." Another wave hit, visibly tensing her body. She gripped his forearm, her knuckles white.
**Haroon (his calm, operational mode instantly kicking in):** "Okay. Okay, meri jaan. This is it." He squeezed her hand, his voice steady, anchoring her. "Rimsha!" His call was firm but controlled.
Rimsha appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. "Baji? Haroon Bhai?"
**Haroon:** "It's time. Grab the hospital bag – it's by the front door. And the diaper bag. Keys are on the hook. Move quickly, beta."
**Rimsha (nodding, instantly switching to action):** "Yes, Bhai! Bag! Got it!" She vanished, the sound of her quick footsteps echoing.
Haroon helped Maryam stand, supporting her weight as another contraction rolled through her. "Breathe through it, jaan. Just like we practiced. In... deep... and out slowly." He guided her breathing, his own focus absolute. "Good. Very good. We're going to the car now. Nice and steady."
**Scene 2: The Swift Passage – Empty Roads, Racing Hearts**
With surprising efficiency, Haroon and Rimsha guided Maryam out the door and into the waiting car. Rimsha jumped into the back seat beside Maryam, clutching the bags, her face pale but determined. Haroon slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine with a smooth purr.
**Haroon (glancing at Maryam in the rearview mirror):** "Holding up, soldier?"
**Maryam (managing a weak smile between gritted teeth as another contraction peaked):** "Just... drive... Haroon."
**Rimsha (rubbing Maryam's back):** "You're doing amazing, Baji! Deep breaths! Think of meeting Ubaid!"
Blessed by the quiet Sunday morning, the roads were nearly deserted. Haroon navigated with calm precision, adhering to speed limits but utilizing every advantage the empty streets offered. The familiar route to the Islamabad hospital unfolded swiftly. The tension in the car was palpable – Maryam focused inward, riding the waves of pain, Rimsha murmuring encouragement, Haroon utterly concentrated, his knuckles white on the steering wheel despite his outward calm.
**Haroon (as they pulled into the hospital driveway exactly 10 minutes later):** "We're here, Maryam." He parked directly outside the Emergency entrance. "Rimsha, grab a nurse or orderly. Now."
Rimsha scrambled out, waving frantically. Haroon was already at Maryam's door, helping her out just as a nurse with a wheelchair appeared, alerted by Rimsha's urgency.
**Nurse (calmly professional):** "Mrs. Khan? Dr. Samina alerted us you were coming. Let's get you inside."
**Haroon (briefly gripping the nurse's arm, his eyes intense):** "Her doctor is Dr. Samina. She's expecting us. Normal delivery planned. Bag's in the car."
**Nurse (nodding):** "Understood, sir. Dr. Samina is already here. We'll take good care of her."
Maryam was swiftly transferred to the wheelchair. She reached out, grabbing Haroon's hand tightly.
**Maryam:** "Haroon..."
**Haroon (bending down, kissing her forehead fiercely):** "I'm right here, meri jaan. Right outside. You've got this. Dr. Samina is waiting. Ubaid is ready. Go meet him. I love you."
**Maryam (tears glistening, but a spark of fierce determination in her eyes):** "I love you."
The nurse wheeled her away through the double doors towards the Labor & Delivery unit. Haroon and Rimsha stood frozen for a second, watching her disappear, the enormity of the moment settling heavily.
**Scene 3: The Vigil – Agonizing Minutes, Eternal Hope**
The sterile, antiseptic-scented waiting room felt cavernous. Haroon paced relentlessly, a caged tiger, unable to sit. Rimsha perched on the edge of a plastic chair, twisting her hands, her eyes fixed on the doors Maryam had vanished through. Every minute stretched into an eternity. Haroon checked his watch obsessively. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.
**Rimsha (voice small):** "How long does it take, Bhai?"
**Haroon (pausing his pacing, running a hand through his hair):** "It can take hours, Rimsha. Especially for the first baby. But Dr. Samina said everything was perfect..." His voice trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging in the air despite his faith.
He recalled Dr. Samina's words: *"She needs you too much."* Was he out here failing her? Should he demand to be let in? Pakistani hospitals often had restrictions, especially early in labor. He fought the instinct, trusting Dr. Samina's judgment. His phone buzzed – Abbu calling. Haroon answered tersely, updating him. Abbu promised to come immediately.
Twenty minutes. Twenty-five. Haroon leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane, closing his eyes, sending silent prayers. *Please. Let her be safe. Let him be safe. Give her strength.* Rimsha silently joined his prayer.
Then, at the thirty-minute mark, the doors swung open. Dr. Samina emerged, still in her surgical cap and gown, but a radiant smile lighting up her tired face. Haroon and Rimsha froze, their hearts hammering against their ribs.
**Dr. Samina (walking towards them, her voice warm and clear):** "Inspector Haroon Sahib? Rimsha?"
**Haroon (voice rough with barely contained emotion):** "Doctor... Maryam?"
**Dr. Samina (beaming):** "Alhamdulillah! Mother and baby are absolutely perfect!"
The words hit Haroon like a physical wave of relief so profound his knees almost buckled. Rimsha let out a choked sob, clapping her hands over her mouth.
**Dr. Samina:** "Maryam was incredible. Truly brave and strong. And your son," she gestured behind her, where a nurse was emerging, carefully cradling a tightly swaddled bundle, "decided to make a swift and smooth entrance. Meet Ubaid Ahmed Khan."
The nurse approached, her face gentle. She carefully transferred the tiny bundle into Haroon's waiting arms, instinctively held out like a sacred offering. Haroon looked down.
**Scene 4: First Sight, First Words – Meeting Ubaid**
Time stopped. The world narrowed to the impossibly small, perfect face peeking out from the white swaddling blanket. Skin like rose petals, slightly damp dark hair plastered to his scalp, tiny, perfectly formed lips, and eyes screwed tightly shut. He was the most beautiful thing Haroon had ever seen. A choked sound escaped him, part sob, part laugh, pure, unadulterated awe flooding every cell.
**Haroon (voice trembling, barely a whisper):** "Ubaid..." Tears streamed down his face unchecked. He bent his head, gently, reverently kissing the soft, warm forehead. The scent of new life – clean, milky, utterly unique – filled his senses. Holding his son for the first time was an earthquake in his soul, reshaping his entire world.
Remembering his faith, remembering the tradition, Haroon leaned close to the tiny, shell-like ear. His voice, thick with tears but clear and resonant, filled the quiet space of the waiting room as he softly recited the Azan, the Islamic call to prayer, welcoming his son into the world and affirming the Oneness of God:
*"Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar..."* (God is the Greatest, God is the Greatest...)
Rimsha watched, tears flowing freely, her hand pressed to her heart. Abbu arrived at that precise moment, rushing in, his face etched with worry that instantly transformed into pure joy at the scene before him. He stopped short, taking in his son-in-law cradling his newborn grandson, whispering the sacred words.
**Abbu (softly, approaching when Haroon finished):** "SubhanAllah... SubhanAllah..." Tears glistened in his eyes too. He placed a gentle hand on Haroon's shoulder. "Mubarak ho, beta. Mubarak ho. He is beautiful. Truly a blessing."
**Haroon (lifting his gaze, his face transformed by joy and tears):** "Shukriya, Abbu. Alhamdulillah. He is... he is everything."
Rimsha edged closer, her eyes wide with wonder. "Can I...?" Haroon carefully shifted, allowing Rimsha a clear view. She gently touched Ubaid's tiny, curled fist peeking out from the blanket, then leaned down and placed the softest, most tender kiss on his forehead. "Assalamu Alaikum, Ubaid Chotu," she whispered, her voice thick with love. "Welcome to the world."
**Dr. Samina (smiling at the family moment):** "Maryam is doing wonderfully. She's exhausted but euphoric. We're just getting her settled and cleaned up. In about four to five hours, we'll move her to the private room, and you can all see her properly."
**Haroon (reluctantly looking up from Ubaid's face):** "Thank you, Doctor. Truly, from the bottom of our hearts."
**Dr. Samina:** "It was my honour. Now," she turned to the nurse, then back to Haroon, "if you don't mind, it would be wonderful for Ubaid to go to his mother. Skin-to-skin contact and feeding are ideal right now. It will comfort them both immensely."
**Haroon (instantly nodding, carefully transferring the precious bundle back to the nurse):** "Of course! Please, take him to her. Take him to his Ammi." The words "his Ammi" felt profound and new on his lips.
**Scene 5: The First Bond – Nourishment and Love**
Inside the dimly lit, quiet recovery area adjacent to the delivery room, Maryam lay propped up, washed and wearing a fresh gown, her body trembling with exhaustion and overwhelming emotion. The physical ordeal had been intense, but the moment she heard Ubaid's first cry – a strong, healthy wail – it had all dissolved into pure, transcendent joy. Now, a deep ache of longing to hold him filled her.
The door opened softly. The nurse entered, carrying the familiar swaddled bundle. "Mrs. Khan? Someone is very eager to see his Ammi."
Maryam's arms instinctively reached out. As the nurse gently placed Ubaid onto her chest, skin-to-skin, Maryam gasped. The warmth, the weight, the reality of him against her – it was a feeling beyond description. She looked down into the tiny face, now peacefully sleeping, his lips making small sucking motions. Tears of utter bliss streamed down her face as she traced the curve of his cheek with a trembling finger. "Assalamu Alaikum, Ubaid," she breathed, her voice raw with love. "My son. My beautiful boy."
Guided by the nurse, Maryam helped Ubaid latch on for his first feeding. The sensation was strange, primal, and deeply connecting. As he began to suckle weakly, a wave of fierce protectiveness and profound love washed over Maryam, even stronger than the exhaustion. She held her son close, watching his face, feeling the miracle of life nourished at her breast. The pain, the fear, the waiting – it all coalesced into this single, perfect moment of quiet triumph and boundless love. Outside the door, Haroon, Abbu, and Rimsha kept vigil, their hearts full, knowing mother and son were finally together, beginning their sacred bond. The long-awaited dawn of Ubaid had broken, radiant and perfect.