In the white walled living area of my house, I have decided to occupy the single seater MES sofa. My 13-year-old daughter has occupied the sofa opposite to mine. While my husband and son, both still in their uniforms, my husband in his Olive Greens, and my son in his school uniform, have settled on the two seater sofa which is perpendicular to both, me and my daughter.

No one has yet spoken a word, though on any regular weekday, we all are rather gathered around the dinning area for having our lunch. My husband returns back with our son by this time, my daughter arrives some minutes after them. But today, she has skipped school, and I've been waiting for my husband Ved—now a Colonel—to come home for his lunch so that I could have a word with my family over the reason because of which my daughter's had locked herself in her room this morning.

"Princess, what happened to you? Why had you locked yourself In your room this morning and skipped school, too? Is everything alright or do you have any issue at school with your friends or teachers? Please share with us whatever is troubling you," my husband Ved requests, anxiously waiting for our daughter Kiana to speak.

Well there's nothing new in this, as it's my husband's habit to go overboard whenever something concerns our daughter. I remember this one instance when Ved was serving his field tenure in Kashmir, and Kiana (who was 5 then) had fallen ill with viral fever. Till the time Kiana hadn't recovered, Ved had continually rung me up to inquire about her, though he had a very tight schedule in one of the most conflict prone regions. Like I said, he goes overboard whenever there's any issue regarding our Kiana.

"Gunnu, your father is asking you something, why aren't you giving him any answer?" I tell my daughter, who hangs her head low this time. I know what she's upset about, but not my husband or son, both of who are going crazy with perplexity.

"Anu, what's the matter?" my husband asks me, then looking at Kiana, he adds, "She isn't answering my questions, at least you tell me what's wrong? Why is she so quiet?"

"Because of this!" I answer him promptly, pointing towards the file I've kept on the center table. My husband gasps, realising which file it is ... Kiana's adoption documents!

"How has she managed to get her hands on it?" my husband glares at me. But I know, he's not angry, rather it's his fears that are disturbing the peaceful harmony of his heart and mind.

My husband is one of the bravest and most fearless army man I've ever come across. He's not afraid of anything, neither dying nor staying away from us for months on end. But there's one thing he's always been dreading: the day Kiana would come to know about her adoption.

He fears that when Kiana will come to know the truth that she's not our biological daughter, she might distance herself from us ... from him. From the very first day he met Kiana, my husband has had developed a soft corner for her, which after our marriage some 11 years back, has only become deeper, and continues to get strengthen over the preceding years.

"She found it in our closet while searching for her 5th birthday photo album," I stoically answer my husband's query, who seems furious now, though I want to weep. But I can't help it.

I only came to know about it this morning when I requested Gunnu to unlock her room and share her predicament with me. Initially, she did show some resistance and refused to come out, but after some emotional blackmail, she opened the door and the sight nearly killed me. Her eyes were swollen, bloodshot because of continual crying. From the day I've adopted her, I've done everything in my might to keep my daughter protected from all the negative elements that exists in this world. But today I feel, maybe I've failed in it. Because certainly, I am the reason behind her tears.

"Why didn't you both ever tell me that I'm adopted? That my real parents are dead!" Kiana cries, her eyes no longer on the floor. Rather, she's staring at me and my husband, with accusations in her eyes mingled with the pain of betrayal. "I-I'm not your b-biological d-daughter, why did you hide that from me?"

She breaks down into tears, weeping bitterly. My husband, unable to bear her tears, immediately walks upto her and starts stroking her hair to comfort her. I'm stoic ... or maybe numb.

"We're sorry, Gunnu," my husband tells her, rubbing her arms to calm her down. But Gunnu doesn't stop crying. Her sob turns hysterical, breaking my, as well as my husband's heart. All through the years, we've never let our daughter cry over anything or for anyone, but today we both are helpless.

"Didu, don't cry na. Please, otherwise I'll cry too," says my 7-year-old son Kiaan, wiping his sister's tears with his thumb. But that only makes my daughter's tears to fall even more fervently.

"Kia, please don't cry, baby. Please," Ved again requests Kiana, almost on the verge of breaking down. It has no effect on Kiana, she continues to shed tears. My heart breaks into even tinier pieces. Yet, I can't make myself console her. I'm just ... frozen and numb.

I just sit, right where I am, unable to move or think anything. The only thing I'm able to do is replay all those heartwarming moments, that I've had spent with my daughter. All those moments have one thing in common: my insecurities. Right from the time I accepted her as my daughter, I have had my insecurities lurking around me. They have never seized to exist, always tagging along with me. Perhaps, that's why it aches so much to see my daughter look at me with resentment in her eyes, for me.

"Kiana, angel, please don't bottle up your feelings, please share it with us, with me. Or if you're not comfortable with me, then your mother. But please don't stay quiet, it's killing me to see you so miserable," my husband pleads to Kiana, who's now rushing towards her room. But she comes to standstill, Ved's words has affected her.

My husband notices her standing still. He walks upto her. Holding her hand, he moves towards the two seater sofa, and makes her sit on his lap, just like all the previous times when Kiana was either upset or unwell.

He wraps his arms around her, his glassy eyes on her face. This is probably the second time when my husband's this sentimental, almost snivelling. The first and the only other time was when Kiana had said her first word, that too it being 'Papa', when we were just couple days into our relationship. But it was a moment of overwhelming elation, which had turned him teary eyed, unlike now.

Reluctant though at first, Kiana buries her head in his shoulder and sniffles hugging him. My husband, too, hugs her back, and allows his tears to escape from the pool of tears in his eyes. I have enough now.

Mustering up my guts, I walk upto them and kneel down. Holding my daughter's hand, I caress it. She feels my touch, and shortly turns to look at me, exhaling and inhaling loudly. I cup her face before breaking the icy silence that has dominated the room for last few minutes.

"Kiana baby, enough. None of us can see you in this state. Please, your every teardrop is piercing our hearts," I cry, wiping her tears off with my hands. But she doesn't stop weeping, I cry more.

"I-I c-can't stop shedding my tears, ... b-because ... it's s-stinging me and my heart!" Kiana finally breaks her silence, choking on her words. "A-All these years, I kept believing that you both are my parents, that I'm your daughter. But t-today I-I came to k-know that I'm an orphan, my p-parents are dead and I'm a-adopted. I feel b-betrayed, c-cheated, alienated and torn up! You both hid my real identity, lied to me for so many years. Why? Why did you not tell me I'm not your daughter? Why you both never told me that I'm a-adopted?" she snuffles at the end of her sentence.

"Because it doesn't matter, to both of us!" answers my husband in a lumpy voice, pulling Kiana close to his heart. He stares at me, and I know he wishes me to handle this. I will, I can't see Kiana like this for a minute more.

"He's right, Gunnu, it doesn't matter to us. It never will, because all that really matters ... is that ... we love you ... to bits! For us, you're our first born child, the one who made us parents. In fact it's because of you that Ved and I are together, with each other. It's because of you, baby!" I confess to my daughter, who looks visibly surprised and for a moment, stops crying.

"Really?" she asks, an unusual curiosity spreads on her face.

"Yes, baby, you're the one who had tied us in a bond, who had brought us close to each other. Without you, we wouldn't have ever ended up with each other," I say softly, kissing her palm.

"Yes, if not because of you, she would've married that assh—"

"Ved, language!" I reprimand him. Every once in a while, I have to remind him to not use abusive language at home, as it'll not leave a good impression on the kids.

"Sorry," he sighs before picking up where he left his sentence, "So, yeah, if not for you, then she would've gotten married to that Samay, and then I would've become a Devdas or already a mart—"

"PAPA!"

"VED!"

Me and my kids don't let him complete his sentence, stopping him from speaking more. Even the word 'martyr' has enough capability to remind us of the time we'd been apart from him, which includes two field postings of Ved, both in Kashmir. Though Kiaan has only been there in the ending phase of the first field tenure, which was extremely difficult for me. During the last year of our separation period, I was pregnant with Kiaan, along with taking care of my then 6-year-old Kiana and also doing my job. I had missed Ved a lot during that time, but my Kiana was a wonderful companion to me, and somehow I didn't feel much lonely during my pregnancy.

The second field posting was easier with a three-year-old Kiaan and 10-year-old Kiana; those three passed sooner than we thought. But nevertheless, during both the field postings we missed Ved terribly. And also, throughout those years of separation, we've had lived with the uncertainty and fear of unknown, with my kids praying each night for their father to return home safely.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," my husband apologises, with his hands raised up in air. My kids pass him a grimace, but accept his apology. Somehow, it has lightened the atmosphere as Kiana's not crying now, slightly smiling at her father.

"Okay, so where were we," I say, "haan, so, Kia, if you hadn't had come into my life, I would've never met your father and would've been married to that Samay ... though I'm sure either I would've killed him just after a month of marriage or ... no, that would've been the easiest way to get rid of him."

My kids chuckle, while husband gives me a sly grin and his 'You're-lucky-that-you-found-me!' look. To be honest, before our marriage, I thought he's this serious, always uptight guy, who blushes a lot. But once we got married, I realised that he's rather a big time goofball! Yet I love him anyway!

"Now, Gunnu, tell me, before this day, when you weren't aware of the fact that you're adopted, have you ever felt you aren't our own child? Have we ever made you feel you're adopted? Have we ever done partiality with you and favored Kiaan? Did you ever feel we don't love you or care about? Or that we love Kiaan more, and you, less? C'mon answer me now," I speak to my daughter, holding her hand in mine. Her other hand is held by Kiaan, while Ved has again wrapped his arms around her.

"No, Mumma, never have I ever felt that you're not my real mother or Papa's not my real father. You both have always been the best parents in this world and fulfilled all my demands and wishes, even the irrational ones, like when Papa dressed up as Cinderella because I wanted to be the Prince. You both have always loved me unconditionally, maybe more than Kiaan," says Kiana softly, hugging me and Ved, both at the same time. Some tears of happiness escapes my eyes.

"Didu!" Kiaan frowns. But my husband shuts him up by saying, "Be quiet, cry baby!"

"When you know how much we both love you, then why have you reacted the way you did this morning?" Ved asks her gently, glancing at me once. "You know how distressed and scared we both were for you. It wasn't right, angel."

"I'm sorry, Papa, Mumma," Kiana looks down at the floor, crying again. "I never wanted to vex you both, but I didn't know how to react. It was like, as if my existence has suddenly become a joke, a very mean and nasty joke. I thought staying alone for some time would help, but it didn't. That's why I came out of my bedroom when Mumma coaxed me, at least that helped me fight all the depressive thoughts that I was getting in my self imposed isolation in my room."

"Baby, you don't have to apologise for anything. We understand how it must've felt, but please don't ever doubt our love for you. You are and will always be our firstborn, our daughter, no one can take your place, either in our lives nor in our hearts. We had, we have and we'll always love you, more than anything in our lives!" I kiss her forehead, and she smiles back, for the first time after finding out about her adoption.

"I love you, both!" Kiana hugs me tightly, Ved joins too.

"We both love you!" Ved and I reply in unison.

"And me??" Kiaan folds his hands against his chest to show his anger.

"You too, Gannu," me and Kiana reply together and pull Kiaan in our family group hug.

"Okay, now no more 'Rona-Dhona'! In fact I'm extremely hungry now, after crying so much," says my husband dramatically after we all break apart. "Anu, baby, please serve us lunch na, I have to go back also after the break."

"Sure, I will. You all go freshen up, I'll arrange our lunch till then," I tell the three. They nod and leave to get freshened up.

They all come back after some minutes and we all have our lunch together. I feed Kiana with my own hands, as she insists, while Kiaan fumes in envy as Kiana teases him. She loves to tease him all the time, though everyone knows how protective she's of him and loves him dearly.

"I'll come back by 1900 hrs, so we can go out today for a movie and then dine at Kiana's favourite hotel, what say, guys?" Ved asks, standing at the door as his lunch break is about to get over and he's to report back to his office.

"Hmm ... sounds like a great idea," I say, then turning to Kiana, I add, "it'll be fine with you na, Gunnu?"

"Yes, Mumma," she replies, smiling.

"Okay, then, see you guys in evening," Ved waves bye and leaves for his office again.

The afternoon soon passes and in evening we all go out for an excursion. It ends being quite well spent, we have loads of fun. We all have a wonderful time together.

"Mum, can I ask you something, if you don't mind?" Kiana says, as we both lie together on her bed. She has requested me to sleep in her room tonight; I obliged.

"Yes, baby, you don't have to take my permission for asking about anything," I reply, caressing her hair.

"How did you find me? I mean, how did we both bump into each other? Will you please tell me now? I want to how I came into your life," she says. "But if you don't want to, then it's fine. I won't budge you."

I don't reply to her for few seconds, contemplating whether to tell her the truth or not. But eventually, I go along with what's appropriate for this moment.

"You know, Kia, I hadn't planned to tell you about that incident till you're not old enough to understand the circumstances that made us enter each other's life," I say quietly, she's silently looking at me. "But, I feel this is the right moment for you to learn the truth, about that incident and about your parents."
And just like that, I narrate to her about the trafficking incident which had brought her into my life. I tell her about her parents, about her courageous mother, the helpful Colonel Bakshi, the understanding Major Ved, and us.

When I finish narrating, Kiana hugs me with all her might and sobs faintly. Minutes later, she stops crying after I console her.

"Mumma, I'm so sorry! You and Papa have done so much for me, took me in your household to give me this marvelous life when you could've just left me in an orphanage and turned your back on me. Thank you so much, Mumma, for accepting me in your life. Thank you," she cries, burying her face in my shoulder, her tears falling on my skin.

"Baby, you've said it today, but never ever repeat it again in future," I scold her, in a soothing tone. "I've done no favours on you, in fact it's you who I should be thanking for making me the person I am today. From the girl who always used to run away from responsibilities, you've turned me into a responsible woman. From the selfish and ignorant girl, you've changed the way I viewed this world, made me a better person. I don't know how can I thank you for that," I say, and feel a few tears on my cheeks. I tighten my grip around her and for some time, we both weep together.

"I love you, Mumma," Kiana says, before she falls asleep, holding me tight.

"I love you, too, baby," I kiss her forehead.

"She won't distance herself from us, haina, Anu?" Ved enquires, slightly perturbed. After Kiana fell asleep, Ved came to call me as he wanted to have a word with me.

"She won't, Ved. I know our daughter, she loves us very much, as much as we love her. And she's very sensible, enough to understand the complexity of the circumstances we met in. All I know now, is that her love and admiration for us has only increased after learning the truth. Just like we can't live without her, she can't too, and I'm sure that'll never make her go away from us, ever," I explain to my husband, who seems satisfied with my answer.

"You're such a terrific mother, Anu, and an incredible wife. I love you," he pecks my forehead, side hugging me.

"And so are you, an equally outstanding father and an excellent husband. Love you, too, Major Ved," I reply, grinning as I still sometimes call my husband by his old rank, the one he was at when we met, fell in love and got married.

It's strange, how fate and life works in the most unpredictable and unprecedented manner. It doesn't even give you a warning, all you're supposed to do is go along with the flow.
You doesn't even know who'll come into your life, and who'll stay till the last day, occupying a very big part of your heart.

When Kiana had entered my life, I never knew, she'd mean so much to me. Nor did I know I'll fall so irrevocably in love with Ved, who went against every odds, just to marry me, a girl who has an unpleasant past. I never realised, but certainly, my heart knew what these both will mean to me in later years of my life. Perhaps, at that time it wasn't describable, but then all relationship can never be explained in words, just like the love I felt for Kiana when I met her, or the warmth that was always manifest between me and Ved.

Probably, that's why Life's beautiful. It binds you in a twine with people, without you realising it until the very moment when it's obvious enough. Maybe, because we're meant to cherish the moments, instead of analysing their significance. And maybe that's why Life's more mesmerising, when you have people to cherish it with forever.

A/N: Do vote and comment! :)