Dear Piya,
I am writing to the two-year-old (a few months plus) chirpy toddler that you are today.
I have written to you about a lot of events that we have shared since you were born. Through that, I prided myself into believing that I had captured the timeline of your growth.
But I recently realised that seldom has time been captured.
It just goes on to prove how depreciating an asset a human brain is - there is only so much it can remember over a period of time.
I used to believe that if something is genuinely important, then no matter what happens, it remains etched in one's memory.
Putting the same words in a different format again, allow me to say this - You are the most important person in my life; yet I seem to have forgotten some beautiful things that you exhibited when you a tad more little.
My phone brimmed yesterday with yet another blink of 'Memory is full'.
I needed to clear my phone's memory to make space for future memories to be captured (hehe...that sounds cool!).
As would be expected, I browsed the photos section of the phone, as that is the where a major chunk of phone-storage-data is consumed. I swiped through the pictures till I reached the oldest ones.
Almost all of them were your captures :)
As I started selecting multiple pictures & videos to delete, I realised that the baby in them looked quite different from the baby I have with me today.
No, you did not get swapped in those two years, so relax.
The baby in the pictures doesn't leave my lap.
The baby with me today hurts my back by riding me like a horse.
The baby in the videos makes the cutest lip-twirls, drooling with rosy-pink.
The baby with me today doesn't stop chattering , questioning every object's existence around her. (What's this? What's that? What does this do? Where did it come from? Can I eat it? No? Let me still try...)
The baby in my phone is the girl I thought I would remember every yawn of.
The baby with me today remembers to correct me every time I yawn out loud, without covering my mouth.
I thought I was collecting & captivating everything in my memory. I thought I was doing the impossible task of capturing time.
I am so glad to realise that I haven't been able to remember everything; that I will chance upon something from the thousands of your captures, that will make me go into a trip-to-the-amazing-past kind of memory lane; that no matter how much I try to write, I will always be humbled by the miracle that is a infinite shades of a child; that no matter how big our haystack, I will always end up finding memory-like-needles of a life well-lived.
Let me capture a picture of you now, shall I?
Love,
Maa.
I am writing to the two-year-old (a few months plus) chirpy toddler that you are today.
I have written to you about a lot of events that we have shared since you were born. Through that, I prided myself into believing that I had captured the timeline of your growth.
But I recently realised that seldom has time been captured.
It just goes on to prove how depreciating an asset a human brain is - there is only so much it can remember over a period of time.
I used to believe that if something is genuinely important, then no matter what happens, it remains etched in one's memory.
Putting the same words in a different format again, allow me to say this - You are the most important person in my life; yet I seem to have forgotten some beautiful things that you exhibited when you a tad more little.
My phone brimmed yesterday with yet another blink of 'Memory is full'.
I needed to clear my phone's memory to make space for future memories to be captured (hehe...that sounds cool!).
As would be expected, I browsed the photos section of the phone, as that is the where a major chunk of phone-storage-data is consumed. I swiped through the pictures till I reached the oldest ones.
Almost all of them were your captures :)
As I started selecting multiple pictures & videos to delete, I realised that the baby in them looked quite different from the baby I have with me today.
No, you did not get swapped in those two years, so relax.
The baby in the pictures doesn't leave my lap.
The baby with me today hurts my back by riding me like a horse.
The baby in the videos makes the cutest lip-twirls, drooling with rosy-pink.
The baby with me today doesn't stop chattering , questioning every object's existence around her. (What's this? What's that? What does this do? Where did it come from? Can I eat it? No? Let me still try...)
The baby in my phone is the girl I thought I would remember every yawn of.
The baby with me today remembers to correct me every time I yawn out loud, without covering my mouth.
I thought I was collecting & captivating everything in my memory. I thought I was doing the impossible task of capturing time.
I am so glad to realise that I haven't been able to remember everything; that I will chance upon something from the thousands of your captures, that will make me go into a trip-to-the-amazing-past kind of memory lane; that no matter how much I try to write, I will always be humbled by the miracle that is a infinite shades of a child; that no matter how big our haystack, I will always end up finding memory-like-needles of a life well-lived.
Let me capture a picture of you now, shall I?
Love,
Maa.
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