Meet Ziana Singh Morozova Vihaana and Zayden Daughter
Age: 3 | Occupation: Full-time mischief maker, part-time dictator of snacks
Ziana is three years old, but don't let the number fool you - she has the attitude of a CEO, the sass of a Bollywood heroine, and the soul of a tiny thunderstorm in pigtails. She's the perfect cocktail of her parents: From Vihaana, she got that fierce little glare that says "I may be small but I will emotionally destroy you in under five minutes." From Zayden, she inherited an eerie silence - the kind that makes you nervous because you just know she's planning something.
And yet, Ziana is entirely her own person. She sings lullabies to lizards. Names the pigeons on the balcony like they're mafia underlings. Insists on wearing glitter with combat boots. Can recite all the animal sounds - except the snake, which she refuses to say because, and I quote: "Snakes are shady."
She negotiates bedtime like a hostage situation and will absolutely gaslight you into giving her an extra cookie. "You said only one? I said two. I think you forgot. It's okay. You're tired."
But beneath all that sugar and spice is a soft, curious heart. She hugs when you least expect it. Notices when you're sad. Draws hearts on foggy windows and says, "I love you big-big. Like... rocket ship to moon big." And when she stares at you with those wide eyes - so heartbreakingly like Zayden's, so defiantly warm like Vihaana's - you realize one thing: She's not just the best parts of them. She's the best thing that ever came from them.
Ziana's POV Age 3 - Tiny Tyrant Mode Activated
I can't find my crown comb. It was on my pillow. I put it there so it would have good dreams. Now it's gone. Mumma says maybe it fell. But I think it ran away because it didn't want to be a princess anymore. Rude. I tell Mumma, "I can't go to school like a peasant!" She laughs and kisses my head but doesn't understand the seriousness of this crown emergency. I try to look sad so she gives me chocolate, but she just gives me a banana. Banana is betrayal.💔 Rahul Mamu comes in next. He's very tall and has scary eyes, but not for me. I hug him with all my strength, like a boa constrictor. He's like my royal bodyguard. I think he used to be a dragon, but now he's good. He kisses my head and I let him. Only important people get head kisses.
Vedant Mamu walks in with his hair like a bird's nest and one sock. One sock! I say, "You look like a lost cartoon character." He bows and says, "Your Grace". And I accept it like a queen.
Then I bang my spoon on the table and yell, "WHERE IS MY CROWN COMB?"
Everyone ignores me. Everyone is wrong. After breakfast, Mumma packs my tiffin - tiny puris, little sabzi, and biscuits. I put the biscuits in my pocket in case someone tries to make me nap at school. My teacher said naps are important. I said, "So is justice."
Mumma is beautiful like a queen. But sometimes, she looks at the sky for too long and forgets her tea. I think she misses someone, but I don't ask. Grown-ups are always hiding stuff behind smiles. I hide chocolate wrappers under my bed. Same thing. Sometimes I look in the mirror and make serious faces.
Like this: 😝
Or this: 😑
I look very cool. Maybe I'm secretly a superhero. Maybe I'm a fox. A sparkly fox. I need to find that crown. Or my kingdom will fall. Okkkkk byeeeee I have to go to school now.👋🏻
👑 Hope you enjoyed Ziana's royal chaos! She may be three, but she runs the Singh household like a sparkly dictatorship - complete with missing crowns, banana betrayals, and courtroom spoon bangs. If she made you smile (or snort-laugh), drop a ⭐️ vote and leave a comment below! Ziana thrives on attention, and so do I 😌. Ziana surprise POVs may sneak in if you all shower this book with love.
Oh - and if anyone finds the crown comb, please report immediately to the Queen herself .👑🍪
Write a comment ...