Tag: family

The Yellow Moustache Diaries: Two Months Into the Solids Business

Hello Fans,

Welcome back to Episode 2 of The Yellow Moustache Diaries! It has been nearly two months since I joined the world of solids, and I have some important updates from the frontlines.

First of all, I would like to address the great feeding accessories scam. When this journey began, Mumma seemed convinced that my dining experience required a collection of premium silicone bowls, suction plates, designer spoons, and various other colourful objects that looked like they belonged in a modern art museum.

Two months later, almost all of them have been replaced by silver. Silver bowl. Silver plate. Silver spoon. Apparently, after generations of successfully feeding babies, my grandparents had already solved this problem before Instagram was invented.

The same fate has befallen my drinking arrangements. There was a time when Mumma Papa discussed sippers around me with great seriousness. Different spouts were analysed. Leak-proof claims were evaluated. Reviews were read. Today, I casually drink from a Silver glass. Nobody speaks about the sipper anymore. May it rest in peace.

Then came what historians will refer to as The Great Baby Food Maker Investigation of 2026. Mumma spent days researching food makers that could steam, blend, puree, chop, mash, sing lullabies, and probably file taxes. Every product promised to revolutionise baby feeding. The final outcome?

One steel cooker.

One steel pan.

One steamer basket.

One masher.

One portable blender.

After extensive research, we somehow arrived at exactly the same kitchen setup that existed before the research. Remarkable.

Now for the exciting part. I have officially tasted nearly 50 foods. Fifty. And that’s without counting the 7-8 spices that have quietly sneaked into my meals. For someone who survived exclusively on milk not very long ago, I would say I have shown admirable courage.

Every new recipe at home now feels less like cooking and more like a scientific experiment. A new ingredient is selected. Hypotheses are formed. Grandmothers are consulted. Papa is included in the decision. Then everyone gathers around to observe the results. And by “results”, I mean my face.

Nobody cares how long the recipe took. Nobody asks whether Mumma enjoyed cooking it. Everyone just wants to know:

What did Sharva do?

Did he smile?

Did he demand more?

Did he make that face?

You know the face. The one that suggests a serious complaint is about to be filed. Thankfully, most food combinations have been a huge success. A few have been rejected with immediate and unquestionable authority. No appeals. No second chances. No negotiations. One spoon and the decision is final.

Among the winners, a few have become my comfort foods. Ragi Banana Porrdige and I are now close friends. Mango has maintained a strong reputation throughout the season. And Blueberry Apple Oats has established itself as a reliable crowd favourite. And so has Toor Dal and Sweet Potato. Whenever these appear on the menu, everyone relaxes. Nobody enjoys uncertainty. Especially not after spending 45 minutes preparing baby food.

What surprises the adults is that I genuinely enjoy trying new foods. Show me something unfamiliar and I am usually willing to investigate.

Taste it? Yes.

Examine it? Absolutely.

Approve it? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

I have also begun my journey into finger foods when I came to Ahmedabad. The adults seem very excited about this. They place food in front of me and wait expectantly. I touch it. I squeeze it. I inspect it. I wave it around. Sometimes I even eat it. Everyone celebrates as though I have solved a complex mathematical theorem.

One thing I have remained absolutely consistent about is texture.

Liquid food? No, thank you.

Runny food? Not interested.

Watery food? Please remove it from my sight.

From day one, I have preferred my meals with some texture. I may be a baby, but I have standards.

Meanwhile, an unexpected transformation has occurred. My Mumma, who would never have described herself as a kitchen expert, now spends a significant portion of her day researching recipes, food combinations, ingredient pairings, nutrient profiles, and ways to keep my sensitive tummy happy. She now casually discusses iron-rich foods, fibre content, digestion, and texture progression. Frankly, I think she deserves an honorary degree in Baby Food Studies.

My influence has expanded beyond the kitchen as well. There is now a high chair in Ahmedabad. A high chair in Rajkot. A high chair in Tramba. I have successfully established a multi-city dining network before my first birthday. Most days, I sit in my high chair like a responsible young gentleman. Other days, I reject formal dining entirely. On those days, I insist on sitting on the floor, face-to-face with Mumma. The same food. The same spoon. The same baby. Yet somehow the experience is completely different. I cannot explain it. I simply know what feels right.

Travel has become particularly entertaining. People often say babies don’t need much. Those people have clearly never travelled with my Mumma. A simple weekend trip now requires enough kitchen equipment to start a small catering business. Bowls. Spoons. Containers. Ingredients. Masher. Blender. Backup snacks. Emergency backup snacks. Backup snacks for the emergency backup snacks. At this point, I am fairly certain we carry more kitchen supplies than clothes.

As for me, I continue to enjoy most foods. However, there remains one important issue. Mumma seems eager for me to become independent and feed myself. I respectfully disagree. Why should I do the feeding when Mumma is already so good at it? I am happy to hold the food. I am happy to play with the food. I am happy to inspect the food. But when it comes to efficiently getting the food into my mouth, I strongly prefer professional assistance. Some call it dependence. I call it excellent customer service.

Of course, my responsibilities do not end once the meal is finished. Once I have eaten to my satisfaction, I dedicate myself to an equally important activity: creating a mess. A successful meal should leave evidence.

Food on the tray.

Food on the bib.

Food on the chair.

Food on Mumma.

Occasionally, food in my hair.

Sometimes, I look around at the end of a meal and wonder how so much of it ended up everywhere except where it was originally intended to go. The adults call it “messy eating.” I prefer to think of it as artistic expression. After all, how will future generations know I enjoyed my meal if I leave no trace behind?

So here we are. Almost two months into this adventure. Fifty foods tasted. Countless recipes tested. Several comfort foods discovered. A few dramatic rejections delivered. One entire family emotionally invested in my reactions. And a Mumma who now travels with half a kitchen wherever I go. I look forward to reporting back after the next fifty foods.

Until then,

Sharva

Chief Food Critic,

Texture Consultant,

Finger Food Intern,

Professional Mess Creator, and

Full-Time Recipient of Premium Feeding Services

Me Loves Mangoes 🤩😍

I do Healthy too!! Need to show off my All Clean Spinach Bowl! 😎

Beeeeeetrooooooot 😋

I am a well behaved boy when I travel 😇

One Moment I am Waiting for my Food all decked up in new clothes 🥸

And in the very next second I am stripped down to my Diaper because apparently I am a Messy Eater 😏

July 23, 2026
One Little Boy, Two Obsessed Grandfathers

As a mother, there is nothing more beautiful than watching your child be loved. And if there is one thing our little boy will never have to question, it is how deeply he is cherished.

Sharva, from the moment you entered our lives, you captured the hearts of everyone around you. But no one has fallen harder than your Dadu and your Motapappa. The love they have for you is the kind that makes you smile from across the room, the kind that shows up in the smallest moments and the biggest gestures, every single day.

Motapappa has become one of your favorite people in the world in Ahmedabad. Most mornings, before Mumma has even had a chance to properly wake up, he is already there, ready to spend time with his little boy. While Motamummy is busy working and Mumma is catching a few extra moments of sleep, Motapappa happily takes over.

He is usually the first one to pick you up in the morning. He changes your clothes, chats with you, plays with you, and keeps you entertained for hours. Your mornings are filled with laughter, stories, songs, funny faces, and conversations that only the two of you seem to understand. It is your special time together, and both of you absolutely love it.

One of the highlights of every day is your evening walk. No matter how busy things get, Motapappa makes sure that Sharva gets his daily outing. Watching you both leave together has become a routine we all cherish. Whether you are looking at people, trees, birds, or simply enjoying the fresh air, those walks have become a treasured part of your relationship.

What makes Motapappa so special is how intentionally present he is. Whenever he is home, he wants to be involved in everything. Every smile, every new sound, every tiny milestone matters to him. He often adjusts his schedule and plans his day so that he can spend more time with his Sharva. Not because anyone asks him to, but because there is simply nowhere else he would rather be.

And when you are away in Rajkot, the distance does nothing to reduce his involvement. If anything, it makes us realize even more how much he misses his little boy. The calls and videocalls begin early and continue throughout the day. He wants updates on everything. The moment your little face appears on the screen, Motapappa lights up. For those few minutes, everything else seems to disappear. It is a love that travels across cities without missing a beat.

Then there is Dadu. And Sharva if there is one person whom you have completely transformed, it is him. The man everyone knew before and the grandfather he has become almost seem like two different people. Family members, friends, and even people at school are constantly amazed by the change. Everyone says the same thing: they have never seen him like this before. Because the moment you enter the room, Dadu transforms.

Suddenly, he is speaking in baby language. He is making funny sounds. He is shouting, giggling, squealing, laughing, and doing everything possible to make his little boy smile. And Sharva you never fail to give the brightest smile to dadu! The serious, composed version of dadu disappears, and in his place appears a grandfather who is completely and hopelessly in love.

He plays with you endlessly. He showers you with cuddles, kisses, affection, and attention. Every little expression is celebrated. Every smile is admired. Every giggle is treated like the greatest achievement in the world. And then there are the endless questions.

Has he eaten?

What did he eat?

Did he finish his meal?

How long did he sleep?

Did he sleep well?

There is not a single detail that escapes Dadu’s attention. Whether he is at home or at work, Sharva is always on his mind.

Perhaps the most surprising change of all is something none of us ever expected. Dadu has never been the type of person to step outside the house unless there was a purpose behind it—work, an errand, or something important. But now all it takes is one little boy wanting to go out.

Suddenly, Dadu is standing outside the house with his Sharva in his arms, waiting for cars, bikes, trucks, and buses to pass by. Together you watch every vehicle with complete fascination. Dadu points them out one by one, shares in your excitement, and celebrates every sighting as though it is the most exciting thing in the world. The man who would never step outside without a reason now happily stands there for as long as needed, simply so his little boy can enjoy watching cars go by. That is what you have done to him. You have brought out a version of Dadu that none of us knew existed.

The most beautiful thing about both Dadu and Motapappa is that neither of them holds back their love. They love you openly, proudly, and wholeheartedly. They celebrate you, worry about you, make time for you, rearrange their days for you, and fill your world with warmth and joy. As parents, we often think about all the things we hope to give you. But when I look at you, Sharva and see the relationships you share with your Dadu and Motapappa, I know you already have one of life’s greatest gifts.

You are growing up surrounded by people who adore you beyond measure. And Sharva one day, you will understand just how lucky you are to have two grandfathers who love you with every ounce of their hearts. Until then, you will continue being the center of their universe—and judging by the smiles on their faces, that is exactly where they want you to be.

Playtime All the Time 🤩

Exploring the World, One Trip at a Time 😎

Seeing the World go by together 😍

Being Outdoors just because you want to be Outdoors 😇

July 10, 2026
Dadu Turned a Year Older, I Collected a Dozen Firsts

Some trips are special because of where you go. Mine was special because of who I was with. To celebrate my Dadu’s first birthday with me, my entire family packed their bags and headed to beautiful Diu. Joining me on this adventure were Dadu, Dadi, Chachu, Chachi, Mumma, and Pappa—the people who fill my world with love every single day.

But before the excitement of the trip even began, I had an important milestone to check off. I visited Tramba PHC for my Oral Polio Vaccine. Everyone was proud of how brave I was, and once that was done, I was officially ready for my first big family vacation!

What made this trip extra special was that every single decision revolved around me. The destination, the hotel, the travel timings, the cars, the meal plans, the sightseeing schedule—everything was thoughtfully planned keeping my comfort and routine in mind. For the first time, I wasn’t just joining a family trip; I was the centre of it!

The preparations started days in advance. By then, I had already begun eating solids, which meant travelling required military-level planning. My Mumma and Pappa, once famous for being minimal packers, suddenly found themselves carrying what looked like our entire home. There were clothes, diapers, toys, medicines, feeding supplies, cooking essentials, food containers, and enough baby gear to make anyone wonder if we were moving instead of vacationing.

The road trip itself was so much fun. I happily hopped between two cars enjoying cuddles, songs, conversations, naps, and endless attention wherever I went. Both the cars felt like my own personal VIP lounge.

The highlights of out trip was celebrating Dadu’s birthday on 28th June 2026. I came fully prepared in my special “Happy Birthday Dadu” onesie, and I looked absolutely adorable, if I may say so myself! The best part was helping Dadu cut his birthday cake. Everyone gathered around, smiling and cheering, while I enjoyed being part of the celebration. It was such a joyful moment and one that I’ll always see in photos and hear stories about.

The birthday celebrations also introduced me to something completely magical—balloons! It was my very first encounter with them, and I was fascinated. The bright colours, the way they floated and bounced, and the excitement they brought to the room completely captured my attention. Safe to say, I was a big fan.

At the hotel, while the rest of the family enjoyed delicious holiday meals, Mumma made sure I stayed on track with my solids journey. She lovingly cooked fresh meals for me, proving once again that mums never really go on vacation. Thanks to her, I got to enjoy my own special menu while everyone else enjoyed theirs.

Of course, despite being on holiday, the nights still revolved around my schedule. Dinner timings, evening plans, and bedtime routines all adjusted around me. I may have been the youngest traveller, but I was definitely the one running the itinerary.

And then came the biggest surprise of the trip. Until this vacation, I had always slept in my ghodiya. But somewhere between the long drives, hotel stays, and new experiences, I decided it was time for a change. During this trip, I gradually stopped sleeping in my ghodiya and learned to sleep between Mumma and Pappa on their bed! —What they expected to be a family vacation unexpectedly became the trip where I achieved a major sleep milestone.

Another memorable first was my very first swim. Everyone was excited to see me enjoy the water, splash around, and become a little water baby. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite convinced. The pool and I had very different expectations of how that experience would go. While everyone else loved it, I wasn’t particularly impressed. Maybe I’ll enjoy swimming more on future vacations!

As wonderful as Diu was, the journey back home brought another unforgettable milestone. I realised that I could sleep comfortably in my car seat, with no help! For Mumma and Pappa, this was nothing short of revolutionary.

On our way back, I also visited my very first Jyotirlinga—Somnath. It was a deeply meaningful moment for our family, made even more special because my Motapappa had thoughtfully arranged everything so I could have the best possible darshan. Being blessed with such a smooth and comfortable first visit to Somnath made the end of the trip truly memorable.

Looking back, this journey was so much more than a vacation. As if Dadu’s birthday celebrations weren’t reason enough to make this trip memorable, I had a milestone of my own to celebrate—I turned 7 months old during the vacation! So while everyone gathered to celebrate Dadu, I quietly marked my own special month birthday too. Looking back, it feels like the perfect time for a trip filled with so many firsts—my first family vacation, first swim, first balloons, first Jyotirlinga visit, and even a brand-new way of sleeping.

Most importantly, it was a reminder of how lucky I am to be surrounded by a family that plans every detail with love. From Dadu and Dadi to Chachu and Chachi, from Mumma’s endless preparations to Pappa’s careful planning, everyone made sure my very first vacation was comfortable, joyful, and unforgettable.

My first trip to Diu wasn’t just a holiday—it was a collection of beautiful firsts, wrapped in love, laughter, family, and memories that will be cherished forever.

Happy Birthday Dadu ❤️

Wait Let Me Cut the Cake 😎

Baloooooooooons 😍

Sleeping in the bed like a Big Boy 😴

I dont think I trust this Pool thing 🧐

Chilling with Mumma 🤗

The Bharad Boys 😎

I turned 7 months old 🥳

Papapapapa 😇

Chachu Chachi and Puchku 🧑‍🧑‍🧒

Being Squished is my Full Time Job 🤗

Sleeping in the Carseat like a Big Boy 😎

July 1, 2026
The Yellow Moustache Diaries: Food Review by a 6-Month-Old

For six whole months, my menu was pretty simple: Mumma’s milk, served fresh and on demand. Life was good. Then suddenly, everyone started talking about something called “solids.” Apparently, this was a Very Big Deal.

The excitement actually began weeks before the big day. Mumma, Dadi and Motamummy spent hours researching first foods! Mumma was reading articles, watching videos, and asking every parent she knew for advice. Packages started arriving at our doorstep almost daily—silicone bowls, tiny spoons, bibs, sippers, food-grade feeders, suction plates, and all sorts of baby dining accessories. If there was a gadget for a baby starting solids, chances are Mumma bought it.

And then there was my fancy new high chair, lovingly gifted by Raju Uncle and family! Thank you Misha Didi. It had been sitting in the corner for weeks, waiting for its grand debut. Every time Mumma walked past it, she’d smile excitedly and say, “Soon, Sharva!” Finally, the big day arrived. 30th May, 2026, a Saturday!

My very first meal was moong dal porridge with Dudhi (Bottle Gourd)—a traditional and gentle first food chosen with lots of love and care. But honestly, the food wasn’t the main attraction. The audience was.

My Dadu, Dadi, Chachu, Chachi, Naniji, Mumma, Papa—everyone was there. My Motamummy and Motapappa were on videocall. It felt less like Lunch and more like a championship final. Cameras were charged. Phones were ready. Dadi made me offer my first meal to all my god friends in the temple in our house.

After that everyone gathered around my high chair, smiling, laughing, and cheering me on. The room was filled with excitement, nervousness, anticipation, pride, and about a hundred other emotions that grown-ups seem to experience all at once.

Meanwhile, I was mostly interested in the colorful bowls and spoons. The bright silicone utensils and shiny silver bowl immediately caught my attention. I poked them, grabbed them, waved them around, and generally inspected the equipment before agreeing to participate in the actual eating part.

Then came the moment. My first bite, that my Mumma fed me. I opened my mouth, tasted the porridge, paused, and gave everyone my best look of complete confusion.

Wait.

What was THAT?

It wasn’t milk.

It wasn’t familiar.

It was warm, soft, and entirely new.

The adults held their breath. I thought about it. I made a funny face. Everyone laughed. And then, surprisingly, I decided it wasn’t so bad. Spoon after spoon, I kept going. The cheering grew louder with every successful bite. Before anyone knew it, I had eaten almost the entire meal. The adults looked as if I had just won an Olympic medal.

Naturally, I couldn’t let things stay too neat. A good solids journey requires a proper mess. There was porridge on my new kurta. Porridge on my hands. Porridge on the tray. Somehow, there was even porridge where no porridge should logically have reached. By the end of the meal, I had developed a magnificent yellow moong dal moustache that everyone found absolutely hilarious.

Then came water. Now that was truly confusing. Why would anyone drink this clear, tasteless liquid when milk exists? I stared at the sipper suspiciously. I chewed it. I played with it. I spilled some. I looked deeply unconvinced by the entire concept. The grown-ups, however, were thrilled by every tiny sip.

Of course, no milestone is complete without photography. Between bites, smiles, funny faces, and the legendary dal moustache, hundreds of photos were taken. Someday, when I’m older, I suspect Mumma will show me every single one of them.

Looking back, my first solids meal wasn’t really about food. It was about love. It was about great grandparents and grandparents proudly watching another generation grow. It was about parents celebrating a milestone they had been eagerly waiting for. It was about family gathering together for something that might seem small to others but felt enormous to us.

A tiny bowl of moong dal porridge marked the beginning of a whole new adventure—one filled with new tastes, funny expressions, messy fingers, colourful plates, and countless memories. And if my first meal was any indication, this journey is going to be delicious. Mumma better be prepared, the critic is ready!

Love,
Sharva ❤️

Sharing my food with my God Friends! 😇

First Reaction 😵‍💫

Pappa says Yum, so maybe it is Yum 🤔

Let me check 😎

Give me the bowl 🤤

Independent from the beginning 😂

What is this water thingy 🙄

What do you mean its over? 🫩

Half way to One and Step One towards Solids! 🥳

You get Cake, I get Dal and then you guys compensate with Kissi! 🥺

May 30, 2026
From a Feeling to Forever

My dearest Shavu Vavu,

Exactly one year ago, on April 9th, 2025, our world quietly and beautifully changed. That day started like any other, until something deep inside me felt different. I can’t explain it, but I just knew. Before I told anyone—even your dad—I decided to check. It was just a feeling, a quiet whisper in my heart and somehow, it turned out to be true. Two little lines appeared, and in that moment, time stood still.

I remember staring at them, my heart racing, my hands trembling, and a million emotions rushing in all at once—joy, disbelief, love, and a deep, overwhelming sense that life would never be the same again. Because of you. You were our tiny, beautiful secret for a little while. And then came the moment we began sharing the happiest news of our lives with our closest family.

Your dadu and dadi had just landed in New Jersey for a one month trip to the USA when we told them. The moment they heard, everything changed—they couldn’t wait to come back, to be closer, to celebrate you. Their excitement was so pure, so full of love, it made everything feel even more real.

Motamummy and motapappa were in complete disbelief at first. It took them a moment to process, and then slowly, their faces lit up with the happiest smiles. It was the kind of joy that takes a second to sink in—and then stays forever.

And the rest of your little world? Oh, they were over the moon. Chachi, chachu, mimi, and mamu were crazy happy—full of excitement, laughter, and so much love for you already. You were celebrated from every corner, by everyone who matters to us.

And then came the waiting. Those months felt long and short at the same time. Every day, we imagined you. Were you okay? How would you look? Would you have my eyes? Your dad’s smile? Would you be calm or mischievous? Would you love music, or stories, or cuddles the most?

We shopped for you with so much love—tiny clothes that felt too small to be real, soft blankets, little socks, cribs and bassinets, car seats and strollers, everything that made us smile every time we saw them. Every item we picked wasn’t just a purchase; it was a dream, a piece of the life we were building for you.

We spoke your name before you even arrived. We changed our minds a hundred times, searching for the one that felt just right—the one that would carry your story, your identity, your light. And all the while, we waited. We counted days, weeks, moments just to meet you.

And now, here we are 9 April 2026. One year later, on this very day, you are in my arms. Not a dream, not a thought, not a hope—but real, warm, smiling, and ours. You are four and half months old already, and somehow, it feels like you have been a part of us forever.

You have filled our home with laughter we didn’t know we were missing, with sleepless nights that we wouldn’t trade for anything (maybe I would), with a love so deep it’s impossible to explain.

Looking back, April 9th will always be the day you quietly entered our lives. And today, it’s the day I hold you close and realize—you were worth every second of the wait.

Always and forever,
Your Mumma 💛

Had to check twice before telling anyone

From two pink lines to so many lines, just one year apart!

April 9, 2026
From Milk Breaks to Garden Strolls: Sharva’s First Getaway

A tiny traveler’s big adventure to Sri Joravar Vilas

At just a few weeks old, I officially checked my first destination off my travel list — a mini vacation to the beautiful Sri Joravar Vilas in Santrampur some 4 hours away from Ahmedabad. Apparently, traveling with a newborn is not simple but Mumma and Papa were determined to prove that even tiny humans can be great travel companions.

Before the trip even began, our house looked like we were moving cities. For a person who weighs less than a bag of rice, I somehow required half the car. Into the luggage went: my stroller, carry seat, bath tub, multiple outfit changes (because fashion matters), swaddles, blankets, toys, books, diapers (and more diapers), my beauty essentials, and many “just in case” things.

Mumma kept adding things. Papa kept asking, “Do we really need this?” The answer was always yes.

Once we finally set off, the road trip turned out to be surprisingly smooth. I spent the journey doing my favorite things: feeding, looking around curiously, playing, and occasionally dozing off. Mumma sat beside me like my personal entertainment manager while Papa drove us through some smooth and some bumpy roads. By the time we arrived, I was already feeling like a seasoned traveler.

The moment we reached Sri Joravar Villas, even I could tell it was special. The property is peaceful, surrounded by greenery, wide open spaces, and towering trees that sway gently in the breeze. The calmness of the place felt like nature itself whispering, “Slow down.” And that worked perfectly for someone whose daily schedule revolves around milk, cuddles, and naps.

Even on vacation, Mumma and Papa made sure my daily routine stayed the same. Every morning began with Papa giving me a gentle massage. His warm hands and soft chatter were the perfect way to start my day. Right after that, Mumma would give me my bath — splashing, giggling, and lots of towel cuddles included. Who knew a baby could feel so refreshed on vacation?

At meals, Mumma and Papa sat at the table while I enjoyed my VIP seating — right in my stroller. From my stroller throne, I watched: plates arrive, birds fly around the garden, leaves swaying and people strolling through the property. Breakfast and lunch became my little observation sessions, and I loved every minute of it.

If there was one place that instantly made me happy, it was the garden. The trees created cool patches of shade, the air smelled fresh, and the soft sounds of nature were perfect for a tiny baby’s curious ears. Mumma and Papa would stroll me under the trees, and I would quietly watch the leaves moving above me — completely mesmerized.

Let’s just say my naps during the trip were – creative. Some were long. Some were short. Some were in the cradle. Some were in Mom’s arms. Apparently vacation naps don’t follow strict schedules — and I was perfectly fine with that.

But I had one rule. 8 PM is wind down time. Just like at home. Mumma had another special ritual — my evening massage. With soft lights and gentle hands, she would massage me and get me ready to wind down for the night. After that, it was milk, cuddles and off to dreamland. And because I was such a good vacation baby, I slept peacefully through the night — giving Mumma and Papa peace of mind.

For the first time in years Mumma and Papa had dinner at different times on a trip. While one of them stayed with me, the other got to enjoy a quiet dinner. But they are a couple learning how to travel with their tiny new teammate so stop complaining mumma papa. And between diaper bags, stroller parking spots, and baby cuddles, they still managed to soak in the beauty of the trip.

After 2 beautiful days it was time to go back home and I wasn’t ready but Mumma said everyone back home was missing me so I had to go. And just like the drive to Santrampur, the return journey was smooth and happy! More feeding. More playing. More curious baby gazing out of the window.

And by the time we got home, I had officially completed my first vacation — and proven that even the smallest travelers can make the biggest memories. But one thing is certain if this was my first trip, Mumma and Papa better start packing again soon. Because apparently… this tiny traveler is just getting started.

Off we go to Santramput

I need a palace like this!

Ooooooooh Leaves 😍

Strolls by the lake!

Me so Handsome

Daddy Son Time

Our First Family Vacation Photo (minus Stella)

Time to go back home!

March 15, 2026
She Came. She Sang. He Slept.

Vuvu boy! The first few days after bringing you home were magical and overwhelming but equally tiring. Sleepless nights, endless feeds, and the constant worry of “Are we doing this right?” became part of our everyday life. That’s when your japa nurse, Nomita aunty entered our home — and quietly became our lifesaver.

There were moments when you were completely inconsolable. No amount of rocking, feeding, or cuddling seemed to help. That’s when she would gently scoop you into her arms and walk around the house or sit at one place for hours if needed. Her patience felt endless. Watching her calm you with nothing but love and rhythm was nothing short of a miracle.

On nights when exhaustion took over me, she became my strength. There were times she held you through the night so I could finally rest. While I slept, she stayed awake — rocking, soothing, whispering lullabies into your tiny ears. Knowing my baby was safe in her arms allowed me to breathe again.

She didn’t just care for you — she filled our home with joy. She sang sweet Bengali songs (your favorite being Aay Aay Paakhi) that made your tiny eyes slowly close. She danced around the room just to bring a smile to a little face. Sometimes it looked like a private concert meant only for you.

What made her truly special was her spirit. She was always smiling and chatting with our family, turning even the most tiring days into lighter ones. She was constantly joking around, spreading laughter wherever she went. She had the heart of a child — playful, warm, and full of life — and yet the wisdom of someone who truly knew how to care for a newborn.

Most of all, she loved what she did. You could see it in the way she held you, in the way she spoke softly, in the way she never rushed a moment. This was never just a job for her — it was her calling.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. For us, your japa aunty was that village in one person. Her hands gave us rest. Her songs gave you comfort. Her laughter gave our home happiness.

We will forever be grateful for the woman who walked into our lives when we needed help the most — and left behind memories we will carry forever.

February 19, 2026
The Great Motamummy House Wakeathon

Sharva! One day, when you’re big enough to read this, we want you to know about those two days. The ones that made everyone a little tired, a little confused and very, very in love with you.

You were just a tiny newborn when we went to Motapappa – Motamummy’s house. Everyone imagined sleepy cuddles and peaceful naps. But you, my monkey boy, had other plans.

For two whole days, you decided that sleeping for more than 20 minutes was absolutely unnecessary. Every hour—almost on the dot—you wanted to be fed. And if you weren’t being held? Well… that was simply unacceptable. You wanted arms, warmth, movement, and company at all times.

Motamummy, being Motamummy, sprang into full action mode. At the very first sign that you might need extra comfort, she instantly ordered a Ghodiyu. No waiting, no debating. And just like that, the mission was assigned: Dilip was asked to get the Ghodiya from Lal Darwaja and Mehul was rushed to get the khol from Paridhan! Teamwork at its finest.

The house was buzzing. Motamummy. Japa aunty. Motapappa. Mumma. Everyone was on their toes—taking turns, whispering, rocking, feeding, pacing—while watching your wide, curious eyes that simply refused to close.

But in the middle of all this was Mumma—
exhausted, frustrated, overwhelmed, sad, and so very tired. She was running on broken sleep, worried thoughts, and a heart that just wanted to make everything better for you. Some moments felt heavy. Some moments brought tears. And some moments were just about surviving the next hour.

And Motamummy saw all of it. She wasn’t only worried about you—she was equally worried about Mumma. Checking in, stepping in, reminding me to sit, to eat, to breathe. Holding the baby when Mumma’s arms ached, and holding Mumma together when it all felt like too much.

Seeing Mumma so exhausted, Dadda also came from Rajkot just for a few hours to be with the both of us. He sat close, helped in quiet ways, and simply being there brought comfort. You have no idea how thankful Mumma was in those moments—how supported and less alone she felt just because he showed up.

During this whirlwind even, Dadu, Dadi, Chachu, and Chachi came to meet you. They were so excited, eager to spend a few precious hours with their newest little love. But you… you wanted nothing to do with anything.

No cuddles.
No introductions.
No calm moments.

You cried. And cried. And cried some more.

Everyone tried everything—soft voices, gentle rocking, hopeful smiles—but you were not having it. It made them a little sad to see their tiny one crying nonstop, unable to soothe you the way they had imagined. But even through the worry, their love for you was overflowing.

You were overtired.
You were overstimulated.
You were fussy.
And you were determined to keep your eyes wide open.

We worried, of course. So Motapappa asked Viren Nana and we went to see a paediatrician the next day, carrying our exhaustion and a thousand questions with us. The doctor smiled calmly and said the simplest, most comforting words: “It’s just a phase.” And just like that, we breathed a little easier.

Those two days were super hectic. There was very little sleep, lots of concern, endless holding, and a house full of adults revolving around one tiny human. But they were also filled with love—messy, instinctive, drop-everything love.

You may not remember these days. But we will.

They remind us that from the very beginning, you had your own rhythm. And that Mumma learned how strong she could be—even on days she felt anything but strong. And that Motamummy stood right there, protecting both her baby and her grandbaby.

And if you’re wondering—yes, you eventually did sleep. And yes, everyone survived.

And just in case you’re reading this as a teenager or an adult and wondering why everyone in the family reacts very quickly when you say you’re “not sleepy”. This was your debut performance.

Two days.
Zero long naps.
One entire household trained to respond at lightning speed.

You taught us early. Very early. 😌

January 23, 2026
One Baby. Many Arms. Zero Silence.

15th January 2026. Some days feel bigger than the clock allows them to be. This was one of those days.

After spending the first one and a half months wrapped in the quiet comfort of Dadu and Dadi’s home in Rajkot, it was time for our little world to move again—this time to Motapappa and Motamummy’s in Ahmedabad. Of course, we left late. Not fashionably late, just family-with-a-newborn late. Bags half-checked, hearts full, and one tiny baby completely unaware that he was about to steal yet another household’s peace.

The car ride was one of those soft, in-between moments. City passing by, halt at Chotila, quick lunch at HFM, hushed conversations, stolen glances to make sure our miracle was still breathing, still sleeping, still perfect. Everything felt slow and fast at the same time.

And then—we arrived to your Mumma’s city.

If love could shout, Motamummy Motapappa’s home would have echoed. Balloons everywhere. Beautiful decorations. Cake waiting patiently. Doors opening wide like they’d been rehearsing for this moment. Aki Mamu’s joy was impossible to miss—pure, loud, overflowing happiness. Himani Masi came rushing in to meet you too, and suddenly the house was full of voices, laughter, movement, and arms competing for their turn.

It was chaos. Beautiful, noisy, heart-bursting chaos. Everyone wanted a glimpse. Everyone wanted a cuddle. Everyone wanted to say, “He’s here.” And in the middle of it all, you were calm, tiny, and completely in charge without even trying.

That day reminded us how love shows up differently in different homes—but always in abundance. It reminded us that family isn’t quiet, or orderly, or planned. It’s messy, loud, late, emotional and absolutely magical.

Now, for the next few weeks, this house will hold your days. You’ll grow here, nap here, be adored endlessly here. New routines, new memories, same overwhelming love.

But in all this happiness, we will miss Daddy and Stella deeply everyday. Daddy, whose presence makes everything feel complete, and Stella, whose playful energy and unconditional love are always part of our world. Motamummy’s house is full of warmth, but their absence will be felt in the quiet moments and gentle pauses of the day.

And one day, when you’re old enough to read this, I hope you smile knowing this:
Wherever you went, joy arrived before you did. And it always will. 💙

January 15, 2026
The Boss Baby and his Army

Hello Monkey Boy,

Before you even learned how to open your eyes properly, you had already built an entire fan club. And not just any fan club—a full-blown army. The kind that shows up half-asleep, armed with love, opinions, blessings, and an endless supply of “let me hold the baby.”

Mom and Dad were your co-CEOs—learning on the job, running on love and very little sleep. They were supported by motamummy and dadi, who brought wisdom, warmth, and the magical ability to calm everyone (including the parents).

Your Dadi and Motamummy became our quiet guardians during that first month and a half. They made sure your mama was always well fed, well rested, and cared for, because they knew that caring for me was also caring for you. Warm meals appeared on time, gentle reminders to rest were constant, and every little need—spoken or unspoken—was met with patience and love. Because of them, our days felt softer and our nights felt safer.

Then came the japa nurse, Nomita didi—part nurse, part angel, part baby-whisperer—guiding everyone through those days like a pro. And of course, the househelps, Swati didi, Prabha aunty, Nayana aunty, Kavita aunty, Kailash aunty, Usha aunty, Kiran aunty, Poonam ben and Parvaty who all made sure the world kept spinning while all attention was firmly fixed on you.

And then there was Stella—your dog sibling, your silent supporter, and the most patient member of the household. Stella took a gentle backseat so Mom and Dad could be there for you always. She waited quietly during long nights, accepted fewer cuddles without complaint, and watched over you with curious eyes and a protective heart. In her own way, she understood that something very special had arrived—and she made space for you with nothing but love.

Even when they weren’t physically around all the time, Dadu, Motapappa, Mamu, Mimi, Chachu, and Chachi always had you on their mind. Phone calls, messages, prayers, and constant “How’s Sharva?” check-ins made sure you were surrounded by love from every direction.

And let’s not forget Mom and Dad’s friends—your first unofficial aunties and uncles. They made sure your parents were heard, supported, reassured, and occasionally reminded that they were doing just fine. From pep talks to laughs to “this phase will pass,” they held Mom and Dad up so they could hold you.

So if you ever wonder how you were raised in those early days—know this: You were raised by a village full of love, teamwork, chaos, kindness, countless helping hands—and one very good dog. You may have been tiny, but you were never alone. You were carried by many hearts (and paws) from day one.

January 10, 2026
To My Baby Boy: Meet the Angels Who Love You

My sweet boy Sharva,

There are two souls I want to introduce you to today. One walks beside us still, and one walks with us in a way we can’t see—but both have been part of your story since before you were born.

The first is my soul dog Happy, the one who loved me and your dadda long before we knew you. When I was six months pregnant with you, she suddenly left this world. My body was carrying new life, and my heart was learning how to survive loss. It felt impossible to hold joy and grief at the same time—but somehow, I did. And somehow, she never really left.

Through every kick, every quiet moment, every time I rested my hands on my growing belly, I felt her there. I truly believe she stayed close, watching over us, protecting you even before I could hold you in my arms. I know it sound crazy but I could literally feel her presence in the OT the day you were born.

Today is Happy’s birthday—the first one since she passed. And on this day, I want to introduce you to her. She was gentle, loyal, and deeply intuitive. She loved without conditions and understood us without words. I believe she knew you too. I believe she felt you growing and knew her role was changing—not ending.

And then there is Stella—my other baby girl. She is here with us, right now, filling our home with warmth, softness, and life. Stella carries pieces of the love that came before her. In ways you won’t understand yet, she helps me feel grounded. She comforts me when memories feel heavy, and she reminds me that love continues forward.

I like to think Stella knows she isn’t alone in watching over you. That she and Happy will always be connected—one here, one beyond—both loving you fiercely in their own ways. I believe you are protected in special ways. By the sister who walks beside you every day. And by the one who walks ahead of you, guiding quietly.

You may never meet one of them in this lifetime, but you will grow up surrounded by both their love. Because love doesn’t disappear—it transforms, it stays, it watches.

So on Happy’s birthday, I celebrate both my baby girls. And I celebrate you. Two dogs. One little boy. All connected by love.

Happy birthday, my angel girl Happy.
Stella is taking great care of us.
And your little brother is always safe. 💙🧿

Mumma with Happy and Stella

Dadda with Happy and Stella

December 26, 2025
The Legend of the Monkey Boy

In the quiet hours of the day, there’s a tiny boy who rules the house. He’s small, warm, and brand new, with fingers that curl like they already know how to hold on. He is my newborn baby boy Sharva, though around here he goes by his official nickname: Monkey Boy.

After a feeding, when it’s burping time, Monkey Boy transforms. Suddenly, he’s no longer a sleepy newborn—he’s a tiny jungle creature clinging for survival. He presses himself against whoever is holding him, clinging with surprising determination. His little hands latch onto shirts, fingers, collars, and occasionally hair, as if gravity has personally offended him. Letting go is not an option.

He presses his face into your chest, curls his legs in, and holds on with a strength that makes you wonder if he’s secretly been doing pull-ups when no one’s watching. Then, just when you start to think he’s forgotten why he’s there—BURP. A small, victorious sound, followed by an even tighter cling, like he’s proud of himself and wants a round of applause.

Monkey Boy doesn’t know much yet, but he knows how to burp like a champ and cling like a pro. He knows how to hold on, and he does it with his whole heart. And somehow, between the burps and the baby grip of doom, he manages to make everyone laugh—and fall even more in love with him. 🐒💙

The Monkey Boy Burping with his favorites

December 10, 2025
Stitches, Swaddles, and Sleepless Nights

The first week after you were born was quiet, blurry, and full of love. My body was healing from major abdominal surgery, and every movement reminded me that bringing you into the world took strength I didn’t know I had. Still, every time I held you, the discomfort faded into the background.

You woke at the most random hours—middle of the night, early morning, moments when the world felt completely still. Sleep no longer followed a clock. I fed you in soft, dim light, holding you close while you nursed. Breastfeeding wasn’t always easy at first, but each feed felt like a small victory we shared together.

Those nights were when I truly began to know you. I noticed the way you wrapped your fingers around mine, how your breathing slowed once you were full, how safe you felt resting on my chest. We were both learning—me learning how to be your mother, and you learning the world, one gentle moment at a time.

But you were never held by just me. Your dad was there from the very beginning—steady, patient, and full of love. He lifted you when my body needed rest, changed you in the quiet hours, and made sure I was okay so I could take care of you. Your dadi, motamummy, motapappa, chachu were just as much a part of those first few days. They watched over you with endless care, helped soothe you, stayed awake with us and wrapped all of us in comfort when everything felt new and overwhelming.

That first week wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy—but it was full. Full of hands that held you, hearts that adored you, and a family that showed up for you in every way. From the very start, you were surrounded by love, support, and warmth.

Always remember this: you were nourished, protected, and deeply loved—not by one person, but by athe enitre family—right from your very first days.

💙🧿

December 7, 2025
The Name That Survived the Group Chat

Before you were born—before we ever saw your face or held your tiny fingers—we were already dreaming about you. We talked about you, imagined your laughter filling our home, and wondered what kind of person you would grow into. And somewhere in all those dreams was a very important question: What would we call you?

Finding your name became a journey of love, opinions, laughter, togetherness and fights. It wasn’t just your mom and dad thinking about it—our entire family joined in. Everyone had ideas, suggestions, and hopes wrapped into beautiful names, and each one carried so much affection for you.

We started long before your arrival. Names were discussed over phone calls, messages, and family conversations. Some names felt strong, some gentle, some modern, and some deeply rooted in tradition. Each suggestion came with a story, a meaning, or simply the joy of imagining you growing into it.

When you were finally born, our hearts felt fuller than we ever thought possible. And with your arrival came clarity. According to your date of birth your Rashi is Kumbh (Aquarius) just like your Dadi and Giju Dada. That gave our search a beautiful direction, grounding our emotions in tradition and meaning.

Your dad and I had one name we really loved from the start—Shivarth. It felt powerful and spiritual, filled with devotion and depth. But we also wanted to pause, listen, and truly feel what name belonged to you.

That’s when all the family suggestions came together like pieces of a puzzle. Ronak Chachu and Hasti Chachi lovingly suggested Shaurya, a name full of courage and strength. Akshat Mamu suggested Shay, simple, modern, and full of warmth. Dadu, Dadi, Motamummy and Motapappa wanted your dad and I to make the final call. And then your Kavya Mimi suggested Sharva. The moment we heard Sharva, something just clicked.

We repeated it softly. We imagined calling you by that name. We pictured you growing into it—kind, strong, calm, and confident. And most importantly, we loved what it stood for. Sharva is a Sanskrit name meaning “the destroyer,” often referring to Lord Shiva, symbolizing the destruction of evil, sins, and miseries, or signifying completeness/perfection, and also associated with Lord Krishna, representing “everything” or “the entire”.

We wanted your name to be meaningful, rooted in faith, yet timeless. A name that carried blessings, strength, and love—something you could grow into while still being entirely your own person. So after all the discussions, suggestions, and moments of reflection, we knew. Sharva was your name.

It came from family, from tradition, from love, and from our hearts. One day, when you read this, we hope you feel how deeply wanted you were, how thoughtfully you were named, and how many people surrounded you with love even before you took your first breath. Your name is a reminder that you are never alone—you are carried by faith, family, and endless love.

The day you were officially named Sharva 🧿

December 4, 2025