The girl at the park

It was a tuesday morning that day. Since tasks at office were a little less, I decided to take the day off from work. I greeted my daughter with a good morning hug , ate our breakfast together and decided to go to the park.

Nishka broke herself free the moment she saw the play area and ran towards the swing. But unfortunately there was an older girl , about 10 years or age, already sitting on the swing.

It was a swing meant for below 5 year olds - so I was surprised to see the girl sitting on it.

I looked at the girl a little closely, and I noticed that I had never seen her in the park before. The girl must have recently moved into the apartment I thought. I did not want to be rude to the girl, so I told Nishka, "Its ok dear. Akka wants to play on the swing. Why don't you play on the slide?

But Nishka wouldn't pay heed. And insisted on playing on the swing.

I turned to look at the girl again. She was tall for her age and thin. She had a dark complexion and her oily hair was cut short. She was wearing black coloured tights and a faded shining orange short kurta. She had clipped her hair and was wearing a cheap glass necklace on her neck. From the way she dressed, it seemed to me, that she must be one of the caretakers of the little children who came down. Most of the residents in the apartment, who had small babies, had a live-in caretaker for their children.

I was about to pacify my daughter again, when the girl got up from the swing, smiled at me, turned to look at a cute little two year old playing nearby and said  "Keerthu.. Illi baa.. "( Keerthu, come here ) in kannada. I smiled back .

I put Nishka on the swing and had started swinging her, when I heard someone from the back asking , "What is the time aunty? "

I turned back and to my surprise it was the girl from the swing. I was surprised because she had asked that question in very clear and polished english. Maybe the hosts had put her in a good school, I thought.

"9.30 " I said to her and got back to swinging.

"What is her name aunty?" I heard the voice again.

"Nishka ", I said.

But I couldn't hold my curiosity any longer and I asked the girl, "Do you go to an english medium school?"

She nodded with a smile, confirming what I thought. I couldn't help noticing her pretty smile. Though dark and not dressed very well, she looked sharp. She carried herself with surety and poise. I continued to watch her for sometime.


Another girl about her age came to her and said,  "Baaa Bhakti… Slide hogans…"( Come Bhakti…Lets go to the slide.. ) It was obvious the two girls knew each other very well.  This girl was slightly plump, had a wheat-ish complexion, and wore a well fitting cotton dress. Her long hair was neatly plaited into two plaits. Maybe Bhakti stayed in her house, I thought.


"Beda… Ivaga baralla…."( No… I don't feel like it right now… ) Bhakti replied back.

There was a silent confidence about the way she spoke and the girl turned back to find some other friends.

I was taken aback by the authority in Bhakti's voice and I asked her, "Are you new here?"

"Yes aunty, We are from Bijapur, a town about 500 KMs from Bangalore.. "

"The girl who just left and the two year old girl, Keerthu are my cousins," she replied back with the pretty smile.

Read more...

Happy New Year.. !

Wish you all a happy and joyous new year.. !! :)

( my daughter playing in the sea )

Read more...

The Dosa Story

"Ting tong" the bell rang. I opened the door and saw two boys around 7-8 years old at the door. I was looking at them quizzically, when I heard, "Oh.. come in .. come in!" from the back. My husband was inviting the boys in.


"They are Nishka's friends and were playing with Nishka in the park," explained my husband to me with a smile.

"Uh! Nishka's friends?" I thought and smiled back. Nishka is my one and half year old daughter and it seemed really nice and funny that she was making friends on her own.

I invited them in. I was feeding breakfast, "a dosa", to my daughter at that time. "What are your names and how old are you?" I asked as I continued feeding.


"I am Ved and I am 10, and he is Hari and he is 6," said the elder boy who seemed a little on the hefty side. I smiled back.

"Would you like to have a dose Hari?" I asked.

Hari was surprised at the question. He seemed a little embarrassed and very hesitantly said, "Okay"

"Dude.. ! This is not your house…. you are not supposed to eat at other people's house!" we suddenly heard Ved's voice from the balcony, where he was now standing watching the cars pass by.

I recovered and said "Thats okay. He was just replying to my question." I continued feeding Nishka.


"Aunty, do you know ? we have a Mercedes...." Ved informed me in a casual voice.

I nodded my head absent-mindedly. He then turned back and said, "Aunty Can I have a dosa too?" I held back my chuckle and replied "Sure!".

I made the boys sit on the dining table and kept the plates in front of them. "Aunty, Please don't give me any Sambar. I would like to have the Dosa plain" said Hari in a small voice.

"Dude! Don't be selective. This is not your house, " Ved reprimanded him again.

"Hari, I have not made Sambar. I will give you both Chutney. See if you guys like it," I replied, ignoring Ved.

"Aunty, I generally eat dose with sauce. Give me sauce if you have some, else chutney will also do," said Ved to me. I couldn't suppress a giggle this time.

I fed Hari a dosa and gave the next one to Ved. Hari was a slow eater and Ved was fast. So by the time, Hari had finished his first Dosa, Ved had finished three. Hari looked up from his plate when he had finished his dosa and said very softly, "Aunty, you make yummy dosas. Can I have one more?"

"Dude! Aunty is really tired now. Cant you see she has been standing for such a long time?" Ved was scolding him again. This time I preferred to just wait and watch the fun.

"I generally eat five doses in the morning," Ved informed us casually gulping a huge bite of Dosa in his mouth. Both my husband and I nodded understandingly. And then I asked him "Would you like to have one more Ved?"

"Yes aunty.. your dosas are really awesome."

Ved ate three more Dosas in silence. And when he finished his third dosa, looked up and said, "Aunty, can you make a mini dosa? That will be my last one."

My husband and me laughed heartily this time. And then I replied, "Yes. And after that even if you ask I will not give. You have already had six dosas. And if you have more, you will fall sick."

Read more...

Nishka's park friends

My daughter Nishka, who is 14 months old now, is a very social person. She enjoys going out in the parks or malls and calling out to people. Invariably there are a few people who 'ooh' and 'aah' over her and she revels in the attention. Of-late she has been making friends in the apartment too.

A few months back (which means when my daughter had just turned one year old,) my husband's three young cousins (girls in their early twenties) took her for an early morning walk. When girls came back, the little one was in one of the girl's hands and was holding a huge bunch of bananas with both her hands. The girls couldn’t stop laughing narrating what had happened. Apparently an old ajja (an old man around 70 years of age) was going home holding a walking stick in one hand and a bunch of bananas and a newspaper in the other. The little one on seeing the bananas got excited and started pointing towards the bananas and squealing loudly. The old man couldn’t help melt at the little one's gestures and gave away the whole bunch to her and blessed her as he went his way.

On another day, I heard a ting-tong on my house bell. I knew my daughter and Kamala, her caretaker were back home from their walk. I opened the door quickly to take Nishka in my arms, only to hear Kamala point the house to someone and tell her, "Ide mane, Ide mane" (This is the house.) Curious, I looked behind her to see an old rolly-polly lady (around 65 years of age) wearing a worn out old white flowery salwar kameez and a white dupatta, hurriedly limping her way out of the lift. Looking at me, she said excitedly in a Punjabi accented Hindi, "Mein dekhne aayi.. mein dekhne aayi ye ladki kahan rehti hai.. mujhe roz 'hi, bye' karti hai. Aaj tho maine soch liya.. mujhe dekhna hai iska ghar."(I came to see where this girl lives. She waves me a ‘hi and bye’ everyday. Today I decided I need to see where she lives.) And then she relaxed and told me, "Bohut pyaari bacchi hai. God bless"(She is a very cute kid. God Bless.) And she smiled her way back into the lift. I smiled back to the old lady. I could hear the little one blowing ‘flying kisses’ to her behind my back.

Unknown people come and wish Nishka when we (my husband, Nishka and I) go on our evening walk these days. They say ‘hi’ to her and have a little conversation her and she responds back in her baby language. It is really nice to see my little one forming her set of friends.

As for my husband and me, we are now grappling with a new identity, ‘Nishka’s daddy’ and ‘Nishka’s mummy.’

Read more...

Notes

Last weekend I went to the bank to draw some cash. I was waiting at the cash counter and watching the various activities around. There was a young couple, pleasant looking and chirpy waiting to talk to the manager. Perhaps they were there to take a house loan I thought. And there was an old lady from the lower middle class background. The pallu of her faded parrot green saree fell loosely on her shoulder across a worn-out red blouse. Her curly hair had shades of white and grey and her dark face was beginning to show wrinkles. She was there with her young son who was probably in his early twenties. Maybe they were there for a loan. I looked around a little more. There were a few people waiting for their turn to access the locker.

My gaze fell on the cashier. Someone had deposited a huge sum of cash. The cashier had placed the bundles of 1000s, 500s, 100s and 50s on his table. He was sitting in a glass enclosed cabin and his complete concentration was on the cash at hand. He rebuked the peon who peeked in once or twice with some question that the peon had. His alert, all enveloping demeanor told all of us standing on the other side of the counter that he was not to be disturbed. He took each bundle, straightened the notes and tediously counted each bundle. I looked at the 1000, 500, 100, 50 bundles and looked back at the over protective stance of the cashier. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking ‘bundles of notes - paper after all - each with a different design and each of a different size.’

That evening, I was sitting and reading a book. My wallet was lying on the coffee table. My daughter as usual was running around. She squealed in glee as she spotted my wallet. She ran to the wallet and started exploring it. To her surprise she found multiple cards of her interest. A few cards even had her mummy's picture on it. "Mummy!!!" she cried in delight as she spotted me on the host of various identity cards. Then her gaze turned to the main portion of the wallet. She spotted the 100, 20 and ten rupee notes. She pulled each one of them out and squealed as she threw them up in the air. I smiled as I saw her rejoice.

She then kept the wallet aside as a ten rupee note fascinated her. She played with the yellow orange colour note for some time. She turned it and twisted it and finally held it high with both her hands. Her eyes were all bright and her face was lit up. Just as I was watching her, she held the note tight on both the ends, tore the note apart into two pieces and giggled merrily as she played with the two pieces.

I did not know what to say.

It took me a few seconds to recover. When I did, I couldn’t help thinking with a smile ‘Notes - pieces of paper after all’.

Read more...

Nishka and pigeons...

One of the first species my little one started to recognize was the pigeon. These pigeons perch on the window sills of the building in front of our house as well as on the window sill visible from the kitchen window. So even when Nishka was as small as three months old (she turned one a few days back), whenever she got bored we would take her to show her the pigeons. The result was that she learnt the word "Pijjjiiii" (for pigeon) around the same time that she learnt words like "Mummy", "Hi", "Bye" etc.


I had read somewhere, that little ones start dreaming at the age of 11 months or so. I had read and forgotten about it. But one early morning it all came back. It was around six am and we were just waking up. The eleven month old was still in her sleep. Suddenly she turned around, with her eyes closed, and her finger pointing somewhere towards the ceiling, said loudly "Pijjjiiiii....", "Pijjjjjjiiii..." I could only smile. My little one was dreaming about pigeons.


Just yesterday, we had a welcome visitor at our house. Sitting on the pink flowered mattress of our bed was a grey coloured pigeon trying to look cool and disinterested. He sat perched on the mattress and surveyed his surroundings while we stood at a distance and watched. The little one was super excited and the pigeon seemed in no hurry to leave. Kamala, our baby's caretaker took the baby near the pigeon and the pigeon kept standing next to them as if he had known them for ages. The baby smiled at the pigeon, waved her hand and said, "Aiii"(as if to say.. "Hey.. look up!") The pigeon stubbornly chose to not turn to her call. She called him again, "Hiiiii!" The pigeon kept looking straight. Kamala, who was holding the baby with one hand, touched and stroked the pigeon on its back. The pigeon seemed to enjoy it. Kamala then put her hand around the pigeon and held him. Nishka squealed in delight. She turned back to look at me and pointing her finger at the pigeon, squealed to me again, as if say, "Look mamma.. Pijjjji"


We have been staying in this house for around 10 years now. Pigeons and monkeys used to have a free hand at the house when we had initially moved in. Once they noticed that there were people staying in the house, they stopped coming. They must have stopped feeling a part of the house.


Now, after a long 8-9 years, thanks to the little one, the pigeons were back in...!

Read more...

One fine day...

It was early morning. Nishka and me were sitting, playing with each other and giggling loudly when the door bell rang. We paused as my husband opened the door and craned to see who was there.


When I saw who was at the door, I was surprised!


It was the maid Kamala.


Kamala had been at our house the previous day and had been cleaning up the house. She had cleaned all the cupboards under the kitchen platform. When she had stood up on a stool to clean the upper cupboards, the stool had turned over and she fell down hurting herself badly. In fact she was so hurt on her back that she could hardly sit or stand for some time. She had to be lying down for about two hours before she could get up and go home.


So naturally I had not expected her to be there the next day. But she had come. When I asked her, how she made it in-spite of the pain, she said, "No issues akka. I came in an auto. I did not want to trouble you with all the work."


Again I was dumbfounded. Braving the jerks of the auto rickshaw and spending 40-50 Rs from her meager salary to come to work, just did not make sense. (Her house is quite a distance from our apartment and she commutes to work in a bus everyday.) Also, though she said she had come to make our tasks easier, from my past experience I knew she was not so overly committed to her work.


Even though she did not say so, I knew what had pulled her to work. I turned back to look at my little one. My daughter's face was all excited. She was waving her hands excitedly and babbling loudly asking Kamala to take her in her arms.


I thought of the 50 rs. Kamala had spent. I thought of her back pain, which might have got aggravated in the bumpy auto rickshaw drive. And I turned around to see total and unconditional love and joy of the little one in Kamala’s arms.


I thought to myself, “Can you really measure the worth of a child's giggle and love?”

---------------------------------------

The photograph in this post has been taken from http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/dotshock/dotshock0907/dotshock090702578/5285236-happy-young-woman-mother-play-and-outdoor-with-beautiful-child.jpg Due credit goes to the photographer

Read more...

A walk under the moon

Thinking about that day still brings a smile on my face. The day had not been particularly good. It was eight thirty in the night and since I had nothing else to do, I sat with a book.

My nine month old darling was playing on her own and mumbling to herself. At one point I saw her sneaking a glance at me. I put down my book and decided to have a mother and daughter time with the little one.

So I put a cap on her head ( which of course she kept pulling out ), and put socks on her feet ( she thrust forth her little feet to me so that I could put the socks on them easily ), took a small pink handkerchief and much to the delight of the little one, we went out for a walk.

It was a full moon night and the moon was shining brightly. I showed Nishka the moon and she smiled at it. The sky was clear and the stars were all twinkling. Nishka looked up at the sky and gurgled at the stars. And then she looked back at me amazed.

We went a full round in the garden of our apartment complex and then settled down on a lawn chair. The little girl has learnt to stand with support so I made her stand leaning on the back support of the chair. Nishka and me now sat watching the garden path and the people walking on it.

We decided to have some fun. Nishka has just started saying "hi". So if you say Hi to her, her reply will range from "Haaaayyyy" to "Haaa Yeeee" to a simple Hi. Her voice is melodious and is a delight to hear. We thought it would be a good idea to greet the people walking on the lane.

So whenever I saw any person coming near our chair, I would whisper to Nishka, "Nishka, hi! Nishka, Hi" and she would get the cue, look at the person and say "Hhhhaaaaayyyy". It must have been a pretty sight for any onlooker - a 9 month old girl, leaning against a chair, and waving a Haaayyyy to one and all.

There were different reactions to her hi - some of them were nice and some of them were funny. A young couple in their late thirties seemed so preoccupied in their walk that they hardly noticed a beauty of life waving at them. It took them three rounds around the garden and louder Haaaayyys from the baby to pause, look, wave back and smile.

A guy in his early thirties, jogged with a ear phone on his ear. He kept jogging on. Much to our amusement, he did not notice the baby at all. Or if he noticed, he chose to ignore her.

The best reactions were from an old couple. They were walking slowly, enjoying the breeze, smiling and talking to each other. They had noticed the baby from far and as they came near us, they waved at her and the baby responded with a HAAAAYY. They came closer, cooeed to her for a while and then waved a good bye.

At one point we saw a smart teenage girl. She was wearing a red t-shirt and white skirt, sport shoes, had her hair tied up into a long pony and had hung a tennis racket on her back. She was turning towards her home when she heard a hi. She turned back and on seeing a baby wave a hi, giggled and played with the baby for a while before going back home.

We had spent half an hour in the garden 'hi'ing everybody. Nishka and me had fun and made our journey back home talking to each other and hoping that we had managed to bring a smile on a few people's faces.

Read more...

Happy New Year.. !

May you have the mischief, curiosity, and happiness of a child this year... ! :)

Happy New Year once again... !

- Veena, Raghav and Nishka.

Read more...

The lilliput world....

Ting Tong , ting tong ... rang the door bell.

A trifle irritated at the loud ringing, my annoyance turned into a smile when I saw the playful, cute five year old boy dressed in a parrot green shirt and beige colored pant waiting patiently.

The next door boy Sunny was at the door with a green sling bag on his back.

He returned my welcoming smile. Acknowledging my raised eyebrow at the sling bag, he said, “Oh .. ! I got toys to play with Nishka... !” His eyes searched behind my back, trying to find my seven month old daughter.

He spotted her cooing to herself on the mat in our drawing hall and he rushed past me and settled himself down on the mat besides her. Before she had a chance, all the toys in his bag were out. He showed her the new red colour bike, and the green colour drum. But the toy that was his favorite very obviously was the big yellow color bus. It had a honk and a smartly dressed driver.

The bus fascinated Nishka too and he watched intently she took bus from his grasp and admired the it holding it with both her hands. She looked at the front of the bus, and turned it and looked at the back. And she turned it again to see the front. All the while Sunny silently watched her.

A minute or so later, he turned to me and with innocent eyes, a voice full of concern said, “Aunty, can you ask Nishka to be careful… !”

I was mighty pleased at the chivalry and the concern. Feeling all good, I told him lovingly, “ You only tell her na… She will listen to you…”

I continued to watch him to see how he would convey himself.

He turned back to the little one, and with a face all serious said, “Nishka, please be careful….. "

And then he bent a little over the little one and with a face little more grim said, "Please be careful Nishka....... else the bus will breeeaaaak… !”

I quickly turned back to my book to hide the amusement on my face !

The 12 year old brother and the five year old sister were fighting for the possession of a calculator. Both of them wanted to hold it and play with it.

After a ten minute unsuccessful cajoling, requesting, threatening the twelve year old looked like he had given up as he left his sister alone and sat on the window, watching the bikes go by on the road below.

I was watching the light bantering between the children of a dear friend as I lazed on my easy chair reading a book.

I thought the argument was over and turned my mind back to my book.

A little while later, I saw the brother leaving the window and going back to his sister.

With twinkle in his eyes and a mischief all written on his face, he told his little sister, "Look I am going to type '5 * 5'… If the display shows 25… the calculator is mine… If it shows any other no it is yours… !"

I did not need to hear more.

Just two minutes later, I could hear the little girl complain to her mother, "Ma… Brother is doing some cheating…. For some reason when he types 5 * 5.. only 25 comes… !!"

Read more...

Oh! To be a baby again !

“Are you looking at Ajji? What are you seeing?” says an old lady slightly bent due to her age. She is wearing a faded cotton saree the pallu of which hangs loosely around her body and her shoulder. She has noticed the baby watching her pass by our car parked near a chat stall. The wrinkles on her face belie the struggles that she must have endured. The worn out cotton saree shows that she is from a lower middle class family. The smile on her face shows her kindness and her trust in life. She beams at me and looks back at the baby.

“Is Ajji looking nice ? Such a cutie pie you are ... Look at you staring at me... God bless you my dear... !” she says as she blesses the little one, smiles at me and moves on.

I feel movement on my legs as I am lost in my thoughts with my baby sitting on my lap. It is around nine pm in the night and we are waiting for my husband to get a packet of milk from a near by provision store. The baby is smiling and talking in her baby language. I follow her gaze to see a 70 year old cobbler smiling at her and cooing back at her from his small ragged shoe stall made of planks of wood. He is tall and well built. He is wearing a faded albeit clean white kurta and a faded white turban adorns his head. His demeanor evokes respect. Seeing me notice him, he gives me an apologetic smile. The conversation between the baby and him has been interrupted by my gaze but the blissful smile on his face is still intact. Seeing me smile back at him, he cooes to the baby a little louder.

Then he comes near our car and struggles to communicate with us. He says in Tamil, a language that I don't speak and very sparingly understand, “I have four children and twelve grandchildren. What to do akka? I have to come down here from my village in Hosur, which is around 60 kms from here, to earn my livelihood. Looking at your daughter I am reminded of my grandchildren...” He pauses to smile at me. I can see contentment all written over his face.

I am at Crosswords, the book store, looking for certain books. I have the baby in my hands and I can see that she has become restless suddenly. I can hear the baby saying, “AAaaeee…aaaaa… aaa…eee… aaAAAeee…aaa” I am curious and I turn back. I see two boys and two girls (staff at Crosswords) talking to my baby. The little one is excited at the attention she is getting and talking back to them. I smile at them, and let the baby entertain them. A little while later, they say “bye baby” and go back to their work areas. The smile on their face is still intact.

I pay for my book at Crosswords and go back to my car. I remember the happy faces of the old woman, the cobbler and the staff at crosswords. I turn to look at my little one who is now on her bubble making spree oblivious to the happiness she has spread around.

I smile with contentment as I make my journey back home.

Read more...

Mom and me and you...

As you purse your lips, your face content in our love, your expressions showing indifference to my cuddles, you spot the shining gold in my mangalsutra and play around with it - I can feel you feeling secure in my arms. I remember, as I was growing up, the gaze of little me reached up to the connical "thalli" and the black beads of my mom's mangalsutra and I remember how much this single simple black and gold ornament symbolized security to me.

As you tug at my kameez, lifting and pulling the corner, watching curiously at the flowers and designs on it, trying to pick them out of my kameez - I can feel you exploring life. I remember how after having a hearty meal or a delicious feast, I would washed my hands, and I would love to wipe them clean with my mom's pallu - I remember how much joy this little action gave me.

As you cry when I move around, calling and imploring me to pick you up, as you get mysteriously quitened when I do pick you up, as you stretch both your hands on my shoulder, envelop me in your hug and fall asleep in the comfort of my shoulder - I can feel the contentment and bliss you feel in my arms. I remember the days when my dad would go outstation, my brother and me would fight to sleep next to my mom and I remember how much the love, comfort and warmth of my mother would envelop me as I snuggled and slept besides her.

As you go "aaaaaaaaaa" in satisfaction and fulfillment of a full stomach, as you are ready to take on new activities with renewed energy - I see the twinkle in your eyes, your mischievous smile and your happiness. I remember the time, when I would be ill, hardly able to open my eyes due to a high temperature - let alone eat on my own, my mom would feed me with her own hands and the same morsel of food would seem so much more tastier.

As you poop and oblivious to the poop, you play and pull everything around you, while all of us, including me, come to clean you and set you free - I see that you know, that in case of trouble, all you need to do is to cry. I remember as we were growing up how my mom, wiped our tears or made a joke of some silly fights that we would have had with our friends - I would know that I was being serious about nothing - after all life was all a play.

As I watch you grow day by day, you will know, as I know, that no matter what you go through as you grow up, no matter who will stand by you as you fail, when you open your eyes and mind over your troubles, you will see your parents right there in front of your eyes.

Read more...

The baby...

I will go slowly and sweep and mop the room. I will be careful not to disturb the sleeping baby...- said Kamala, our maid.

Hmm... I said - ok!

After five mins, I went into the bedroom for some work, I saw Kamala transfixed near the baby's bed, broom in one hand, a beatific smile on her face and saying helplessly - The baby is awake ! I turn to look at the three month old baby - with her legs folded over her tummy and hands tugging at the blanket, and cooing to herself - she seemed to be in her own world thoroughly in bliss. I smile.

Waaaa.. Waaaa.. Waaa.. she cried on my legs - as I was cooing to her massaging her body. Hearing her wails, Sahida, the cook runs in from the kitchen. 'Kya ho rahi hai sooo. Baby kyon ro rahi hai sooo. Thel dal rahin. Baby! Baby.. ! Idhar dekho .. !'( What is happening ? Why is the baby crying ? Are you having a oil massage ? Baby! Baby ! See here ..! ) She calls her in Urdu with a heart filled motherly smile. She tries pacifying her - but the little one is angry at being massaged without her agreement. And just when Sahida and me are succeeding in pacifying the baby - Sahida gets up in an exclaimation ! Oh ho ! Meri roti jal rahi hai !!! Beti ka awaaz sunkar mein aayee.. ! Offfooo!( oh ho ! The roti I have kept to cook is getting burnt !!! Because I heard the little one crying, I came running to see whats happening. Offfooo ! )Shaking her head helplessly, she turns to run back to the kitchen with a chuckle.

The baby is three and a half month old now. As a mother, I have hardly had the opportunity to go out and shop for her. Well, when there is a baby in the house, there are so many people visiting. Every visitor who comes gets a gift for her - and most of them end up buying a dress. So most of the dresses the little one has, is a gift from the umpteen number of uncles and aunties, grandpas and grannys, bhaiyas and didis she has. "The dresses are beautiful and more than sufficient, but, When will I ever get an opportunity to buy her a dress!" I complain to my ever patient husband. So last sunday, we pack her bag and set out shopping! Shopping in a shop that sold dreams!

Once we enter the shop, I cant just wait to get to the kids section. In the section that sold the girls dresses - it was almost as if I was in a fairy land. Blissful whites, pretty pinks, playful reds and navy blues, teasing lacy mauves and greens - the dresses were in all colours. Oh ! What was I supposed to buy and what was I supposed to leave ? All of them looked so - so beautiful. My princess would look beautiful in any one of them..! I debated and argued with myself in my mind and I picked up two dresses - a white dress with little blue flowers and a thick blue velvet ribbon tied into a bow in the middle, and another white dress with huge splashes of velvet and purple flowers, again with a huge purple ribbon in the middle.

My heart filled with joy !

Just three months back, all of us seemed to be preoccupied. Kamala and Sahida were busy in their daily routines. I was in my own world - complaining and being bitter about anything and everything. And today as the baby seems to complete around 3 and half months, mine and everybody's life around me had changed for ever. My cup of joy seemed to overflow.

As I get back to the car with my hubby and the darling, I think to myself - If there is anything called bliss - I guess I am experiencing it now. Dear God - Thank you for everything.. !

Read more...