As I was looking at my two year old sleeping besides me- my mind drifted as many years it could – to retrace my own image as a baby. And to remember being cradled in my father’s arms, or a faceless ‘badi dadi’ always silently lying on her bed, who would offer me homeopathic medicine as I approached her, or the image of dry chilbils that were in true sense a treasure ; the constant sounds of familiar people who are now either too frail or not there at all; the excitement of the doll house in Primary School: Such images are revolting. For the moment you go so deep in past that the sheer depth is scary. It’s like a fun ride in a theme park and suddenly you realise that you’re all alone in it.
I had a tear in my eye to which I was thankful. Life has run just so fast and I was so unaware of it- It’s a perfect rip-off!
However as practicality would have it, sanity dawned to me soon. I am very much part of my life and there was no way I could see myself growing up. And that’s where the little baby so divinely sleeping completes the picture. Life after all, had given me this chance to enjoy its speed; I enjoyed her random babblings, first words (amma amma), first sentences(Ye ta aye), first poetry (twinkle twinkle little star)and I will equally enjoy all her arguments and disagreements she would have with me.
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