.
.
Just a tiny fall, a little slip,
A stumble in her playful trip,
But the sky inside my chest turned gray
When Jihaana cried for the very first day.
Her trembling lips, her eyes so wet,
A sound I will never, ever forget.
Before her tears could reach the ground,
Keyur was there at the speed of sound.
I held her close, her fear so small,
Yet large enough to conquer all.
Her voice, that usually laughed so free,
Now softly called the world through me.
“Daddy…” she sobbed, and time stood still,
My world cracked open against my will.
And though she used to call me *Bholu* with joy,
Her pain turned the father in me to a helpless boy.
Her tear soaked lightly into my shirt,
And I shattered seeing her tiny hurt.
For the first time she cried in pain,
And Keyur’s heart cried just the same.
How strange that love can ache so deep,
For every bruise she’ll ever keep.
If only life could choose instead—
Let every wound be mine instead.
But then her crying slowly eased,
Her gentle smile returned, released,
And suddenly the day felt light—
Her laugh became my second sight.
Yet deep within I always know:
Every tear she sheds will overflow.
From her first fall to dreams she’ll chase,
Keyur will stand—her lifelong place.
