Dear Piya,
That time flies is what I am riding a running horse on, as we stand on your second birthday already!
I have not forgotten a single memory of the day you were born, but I an smiling from ear to ear since morning today as I vicariously live the best day of my life through replays of vivid sounds & pictures & sensory euphorias of this day, two years ago.
As cliched as this statement sounds, yes, I did have the best shine in my smile as I heard your first cry, as is said about how that is the only time a mother enjoys her child’s cries.
We had decided not to celebrate your first birthday, mich against the big whoop around Big One. Your father & I thought that it would be best to celebrate with pomp & fervour at a time when you understand some bits of what a little party is actually; for you to enjoy the fact that there are friends around you, there is cake & there are gifts for you to tear open.
It was clear to us that when one, this concept of celebration was still new to you.
But quickly after the the first twelve months of your life, you caught hold of the tradition of singing ‘Happy Birthday’. As you inched towards turning two, you insisted on a cutting any & every cake whoever’s birthday it might be, you wanted to pull out the cherries off the cake & ruin the cream layer in the processs and you most certainly wanted everyone around to clap & sing the birthday song for you. So after having celebrated your birthday thus on every house-member’s birthday, we decided to throw you your first birthday party.
There are some few hours left for that to begin, yet.
And my letter to you had to be ready before that, because I have been singing merrily ever since I have woken up, looking ag your childly radiance, loving you more than ever through the proud feeling of being your mother.
I am wondering if I would want this day to be celebrated for my own self too.
Because I do not remember how I was on the day of my birth; probably crying aloud my guess is.
But I remember every tear of pain as well as joy later on that I experienced on the day of your birth.
In every way, hence, I should celebrate it as my day too, as yourbirth story is in every way my birth story too.
Happy birthday, my little girl.
I love you to the moon & back.
Maa.
That time flies is what I am riding a running horse on, as we stand on your second birthday already!
I have not forgotten a single memory of the day you were born, but I an smiling from ear to ear since morning today as I vicariously live the best day of my life through replays of vivid sounds & pictures & sensory euphorias of this day, two years ago.
As cliched as this statement sounds, yes, I did have the best shine in my smile as I heard your first cry, as is said about how that is the only time a mother enjoys her child’s cries.
We had decided not to celebrate your first birthday, mich against the big whoop around Big One. Your father & I thought that it would be best to celebrate with pomp & fervour at a time when you understand some bits of what a little party is actually; for you to enjoy the fact that there are friends around you, there is cake & there are gifts for you to tear open.
It was clear to us that when one, this concept of celebration was still new to you.
But quickly after the the first twelve months of your life, you caught hold of the tradition of singing ‘Happy Birthday’. As you inched towards turning two, you insisted on a cutting any & every cake whoever’s birthday it might be, you wanted to pull out the cherries off the cake & ruin the cream layer in the processs and you most certainly wanted everyone around to clap & sing the birthday song for you. So after having celebrated your birthday thus on every house-member’s birthday, we decided to throw you your first birthday party.
There are some few hours left for that to begin, yet.
And my letter to you had to be ready before that, because I have been singing merrily ever since I have woken up, looking ag your childly radiance, loving you more than ever through the proud feeling of being your mother.
I am wondering if I would want this day to be celebrated for my own self too.
Because I do not remember how I was on the day of my birth; probably crying aloud my guess is.
But I remember every tear of pain as well as joy later on that I experienced on the day of your birth.
In every way, hence, I should celebrate it as my day too, as yourbirth story is in every way my birth story too.
Happy birthday, my little girl.
I love you to the moon & back.
Maa.
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