Here a Home, there a Home, everywhere a Home-Home!

Dear Piya,
At a tender age of 3.5v years, there isn't much that we expect from a little girl's preferences,

You like one thing today.
And then you don't like it a week later.

You are obsessed with one toy this week.
The same toy could be nowhere to be found a few days later.

What I am trying to say is that toddlers are fidgety.
Like little butterflies, they keep going from one flower to another, having a good time all the way, with no commitment to any one flower.

I have no idea why this particular sentence came to me as an example to give to you.
But writing takes me places I sometimes find hard to explain.
Now, without any more deviations, let us jump to your current favorite activity - 'Mera Ghar'.

Pretend play is one of your favourite acts to indulge in. I love it too, because nothing keeps you engrossed the way pretend play does (I mean it; NOTHING!) 

Now, I hope you remember the play of 'Mera Ghar'.
It is the equivalent of playing 'House' or 'Home' with your dolls.
Little kids are known to love playing with toys that help them build a home of their own with the dolls being the residents of choice.

Your version of this form of pretend play, 'Mera Ghar' that is, is a bit different from what tradition dictates.

You take a couple of things that you can see lying around - pencil, sock, plate, visiting card, hair clip, soft toy, ball, chess board, remote control, showpieces, scarf - literally anything!
You take these and put them up, quite neatly that is, in one place, to go on to declare this as 'Mera Ghar'! (My Home!).

You do this not in one particular place.
This place need not necessarily even be in one corner.
I have stumbled upon many such 'Homes' of yours, on my way to the staircase, on the doorstep, alongside the mat to our room, adjacent to the dining table, inside the temple and even next to the wash basin once!

These many, many 'Homes' of yours are sanctuaries meant to be maintained as are, with no object being moved an inch here or there.
You throw a cloud-sized tantrum if we even nudge anything in your 'Home'.

I do not know what to make of this new found love of yours.
I wonder if having control over such 'homes' gives you a sense of security (as you get tired of being told dos & don'ts as a child).
I wonder if you have an architect's bone in your body (as your father's genes would dictate).
I also wonder if the song 'Old Mc Donald' made you see a home here & there, in addition to chicks, ducks, dogs & cats!

No matter what or how much I wonder, the pretend play of 'Mera Ghar' seems to make you happier than most things do.

And for that, I can only wish this stays a s more than just any other activity which may not be so in the coming week.
For I would love to see you such happy for a much, much. much longer time :)


Love,
Maa

Make way for Piya's first 'Chapati'

 Dear Piya,

After a long break from writing to you, yet again, it is only fair that I begin this letter with some adorable memories (the video seems to be in denial when asked to upload...).

This is about the time you made your very first 'Chapati'.

I need to announce a disclaimer, here, my love - I resent the sentiment that dictates women be the cook just because their gender calls for servitude.
While I am hopeful of the era you are living in as an adult to be free from all these biases, sadly, I am living in one that calls for 'gender-equality' to the war-cry.

And amidst all these notions, you, my darling 3.5 year old, made your very first chapati.

It was an exercise conducted in your class, for all boys & girls alike, which made me quite pleased, but not as much as it did you!

You have had a special corner in your heart for kneading dough, since you have known play.
In fact, I could easily alter this sentence to - You have a special corner in your heart for everything that makes a mess - kneading dough, painting (your palms & clothes, more than the paper), applying cosmetics all over your face...you get the drift, right?

So, what was different about today?
Well, today, in addition to pouring the wheat flour more outside the bowl than inside, you actually made a dough.
You then went on to roll different shapes that are a little shy of being called 'rotis'.
And then, you actually cooked these wonderfully shaped & rolled sheets on the gas-stove!

I did assist you with some of the activities, if you are wondering why I subjected a little you to such dangers at such an early age.

But, at the end of it all, today I ate the first bite of what was your labour's fruit.

It tasted heavenly.
As did the happiness on your face for finally having seen one task through, that I have otherwise, almost always refrained you from doing.
Cooking gas is not for play, I always say.

I think I will alter this to saying 'How about we do it together?' from now on.

After all, I don't want you to miss out on experiencing activities you like (the ones that are not harmful if assisted through).
You will grow up to be a fine, young, woman, my love.
Learning to cook is a step closer to becoming the independent, confident woman you are meant to be.


Love,
Maa.

Midnight serenade

 Dear Piya,

I have a lot going on in my life right now.

It makes me sad to not be able to write to you as much as I should.

But I have something very special to share with you tonight.

As you sleep beside me right now, I am experiencing the same inexplicable feeling of my chest melting into rose petals within. There is something simply heavenly about you, my sleeping beauty!

The nagging thought of letting this moment get away without capturing it hit me hard, darling, which is why I just had to share this with you:

No matter how hard I try

No matter how hard I try,

I can never find the perfect way,

To tell you just how much I love you.

To say all that my heart beats to say.

All I know is that I smile.

And that smile stretches up to my chest.

All I know is that I am quite average,

But with you, somehow, I feel the best.

No matter how hard I try,

I doubt I will ever be able to

Express what you mean to me

Beyond the soft sighs of ‘I love you’.

All I know is that I love.

And that love fills me from top to toe.

All I know is that you fill my eyes

With tears of joy like I have never known.

No matter how hard I try.

I just don’t know why 

Being with you is the best feeling -

One that makes words feel oh so shy...

My little girl, my darling,

My sweet pea, my munchkin...

I love you to eternity & back;

Like I have never known love before.

You make my heart outgrow my breath,

With an inexplicable bliss-filled downpour.

I feel so happy, I could cry...

I will never really know why,

No matter how hard I try...

Still not sure what more to say to do justice to how you make me feel...

I love you, my baby. Always have. Always will...

Love, 

Maa.

The fear of the year, 2020 - Covid19

Dear Piya,

As you have passed months after month of growing up, I have become more & more slack with writing to you.

Many a time, the delay has been unintentional, and then again, many a time, I have not been able to bring myself to writing to you over the said thought or emotion.

This is one of the latter times.I must admit - I have delayed writing this letter to you.

And even as I have pushed myself to reach this moment now, I am a bit blank over how to go about jotting down what we are going through.

I have avoided writing more about what this year 2020 will probably go down in history as - The year of Covid19 (Corona Virus).
It is a pandemic that hit the whole world like a black swan, and has shaken up everything we thought was rock-solid.
Businesses went down, jobs were lost, commute came to a standstill...

But as people remained indoors, relationships got a chance to grow.
During the 2.5 months of a lockdown that we saw in our country, I spent time with a 3-year-old-you, the same way I did when you were 3-weeks-old.
We were together, day & night!

And it has remained so, since then, even as it is nearing 7 months of the world battling with Covid, much thanks to 'stay at home as a precaution' still being the norm.

We are deep into the 'Unlock' phase, and life is slowly going back to normal (the New Normal, that is).
A mask is more essential that the shirt on our backs.
Sanitisation is more important than having taken a bath.
And social distancing is given prominence over everyone, no matter what their relation or stature.

Amidst this, sadly, I started feeling weak & unwell, one evening, a few days back.
My body ached, my throat hurt, my skin felt warm & my eyes wanted to go to sleep in redness.

I have been taking all the precautions that are being advised as the fighting chance against Covid, despite no fool-proof medicine having being discovered so far.
But something is better than nothing is the chant every hopeful human-being is abiding by, as did I.

But amidst hot-liquid-intakes, Ayurvedic medicines, home remedies and health-centric food, all as a preventive measure, when I still felt like my body was struck with a spiking temperature in an uncertain time like this, I had to put into action a mother's worst nightmare.
I had to distance myself from you...

The days have been long and hard.
The nights have been impossibly cruel.
I wake up every hour, checking my phone, half-heartedly hoping that you would have slept through the night with your grandma without yearning for me, and then again, hoping I haven't missed a call from her telling me to talk an inconsolable-you back to sleep.

Piya, my love, it has been 3 years, 4 months & 21 days, since you held my finger.
Not a day has gone by, ever since, when you did not have me by your side.Or at least, not a day had gone by...

It has been, but, 2 days & 2 nights, since I haven't hugged you.
2 nights, since I haven't thanked God for blessing me with you, as I poured love all over your sleeping cuteness.
2 days, since I haven't woken up to 'Mummaaaaaa' as your still-sleepy eyes sought only me in the morning...

Sorry to say, but herein, the benefit of seeing you over a video call doesn't help when you keep on running away from what appears to be a glass surface with your mother's face on it!

I haven't tested positive for Covid19, yet. Our family doctor says that this is most likely the viral flu. He will let me know if the test needs to be done, tomorrow.

But I don't want to take any chances; not any with your safety, for sure.

You are with your grandparents at their place, my love, as I have self-isolated myself in a room in our home.
And I think that this is for the best; that you stay away from me for now.

I miss you to the moon and back!But I fear a greater ordeal lies ahead.

If I am to test positive tomorrow, then I am looking at a big multiple of these 2 days & 2 nights that we have been apart.
And as much as I want to showcase my strong side, this thought makes my heart go really weak.

Piya, my love, I cross my fingers and hope that this is not Covid19, and that I will get to kiss your baby-face, a million times, tomorrow itself.

But if it is, can I ask one thing of you?

When this is all over and when we meet, after the days & the nights go by in our separation, can you come running into my arms, as I go down on my knees at a distance, waiting for my little girl to hit my chest hard enough to drown all the hurt & the longing in it into a gigantic reunion of life that is you & I?

The beauty of this incoming moment will hold me together as the light at the end of the tunnel.

Do me this favour, my baby, and I will smile through the woes that may come, I promise...

In the meanwhile, I am sending kisses & hugs your way. May you feel them in your sleep like you always do.

Love,
Maa.

Where do you sleep?

Dear Piya,

You know how I have always loved co-sleeping with you, don’t you?

But last night, I tried to offer you your own bed...

It may be hard to understand the depth of this statement right now, but where I am writing from, this is a huge!

There are two sentiments here, darling:

1. Yes, I am trying to move you away from the bed that your parents have shared with you so far
2. I am not succeeding so far

Granted, it has only been one night, but the result was beyond what I had prepared for.

I was hopeful of you sleeping through the night in your own bed, which by the way is right beside ours.

You sleep through the night since a long time now, love, so I did not consider an extension of the same as wishful thinking.

I mean, you are hardly aware of me sleeping beside you and your Papa is no more than a giant, kicking pillow to you!

Anyway, worst come worst, I thought I would have to prepare for a break in your sleep leading to a long cry over want for us (read me). I just figured that I would hug you back to the our bed in that case.

Now, here is the fun, as is always with you -

You showed me a third scenario.

Not only did you wake up crying (more like howling) in the middle of the night, you even showcased a complete disgust towards me for having made you sleep in a separate bed!

I mean, you were literally mad at me!

I say so because despite crying, you now refused to let me touch you let alone make you come to our bed!

I tried calming you down, but you yelled even louder if I tried to come anywhere near you.

You did the same if I tried to go back to my bed.

So, in the middle of the night, I stood in between two beds, neither one of which I could enter without eliciting a shriek out of you.

After 15 minutes of this illogical drama, I finally managed to bring a still-very-angry-with-me-you to our bed.

You finally let your frown turn down after 10 more minutes of soft wailing and that is when we finally hugged.

And now, you won’t let go off me...

Your eyes were still red in sleep mixed with tears, but I read something in them.

You were hurt.

I had taken away the comfort of your mother beside you in the darkest of hours, with little notice.

I had missed you too, but I was just moving forward with my plan of giving you some independence, honey.

Little did I know that the mere knowledge of the parent’s warmth nearby is more precious to the child that their own bed filled with soft toys.

I guess I should count my blessings alongwith the numbered days ahead before you do move into your own bed, your own room, and then one day, your own separate home, which would hopefully not be so far away that a hug in the middle of the night would be yearned for...

So...okay...I don’t think we are parting ways in the nights just yet, darling.

And since I am still getting my heartbeat back to normal from the gasp it took at the mere thought of you going away from me, I will now get back to hugging you.

Sleep well, my sweetheart.

Sleep well besides your mum for a long time...

Love, 

Maa.

More talks, less letters

Dear Piya,

As the months have gone by, I have started writing less & less to you.

And while I am not happy about it myself, I keep wondering what you would make of this lag, as and when you happen to read my letters to you.

For all I know, you may be relieved that my incessant chatter finally took a break!

But my heart feels that there is a slight chance you may actually seek more. As much as pictures and videos do to recreate times gone by, there is something just too charismatic about words; something that cannot be captured otherwise.

This has been the driving force in making me write to you all these years.

But despite my love for you and my love for writing to you, my letters have skimmed down. And here is why :

I had a lot to tell you when you were an infant. And yes, I did tell them to your 'agoooooing face' all the time. But I had two things by my side - time & a one-way-speech.

Funnily enough, with more & more passage of time, I have had less & less of it to dedicatedly write to you.

It is no secret, sweetheart, that writing letters to you made me the writer that I am today.

Which is why, I keep coming back to where it all began - here.

My absenteeism here, in spurts, then, is greatly aided by the fact that you get me much better now.

You not only understand what I share but you also reciprocate, with support, more often that not!

So much so that, I have shared moments of in-depth conversations with you and you have heard me out!

And when we aren't deep in conversation, I am almost always found landing a million hugs & kisses upon you. 

Yes, baccha.

While writing letters to you was my idea capturing your childhood, time did nit really slow down and you kept growing up at an unbelievable pace...and so, I want to add this as the last reason behind the slow decline in the frequency of my letters : I find myself out of words every now & then as I look at how much you have grown.

Yes, your acts of cuteness are galore now too!

But my ability to sneak a moment out of them to write about it gets overpowered by my desire to get some more of you, every time, as I fear I will blink twice and three more years will fly by...

Yes...I have not known love like this ever before.

And my fellow mum-friends tell me that it does not get easier with time.

I can only hope it doesn't though, because how often does one experience something so powerful that it makes you feel your heart beat, eh?!

Cloying, much?

Alright, I will stop. I will stop writing that is.

And simply move on to hugging you so tight & kissing you so much that you find that cloying then!

Love,

Maa.

Exhausting & Exhausted

Dear Piya,

I am not going to sugar-coat this letter, darling. I am just going to say it out, now -

You are exhausting!

I love you, munchkin, but you really are!

I have refrained from casting a dark shadow upon this year of 2020, but I have lost my village, love, and I am on the brink of being broken.

I guess this is where you ask me to rewind a little and add some sense to this letter, right?

Phew!

Okay.

Here -

In and around my circle of mothers, we always used to joke about how the kids of your generation are really a handful.

You don't eat easily.

You don't sleep easily.

You don't sit down for long.

And you don't keep quiet at all!

Basically, you seem to require an endless stream string of persuasion to do anything that would assist your parents' day. 

Okay...I may be exaggerating a teeny-tiny, little bit, but that is about it.

But it is true in all other ways.

Honestly, I have lost count of the no. of times I have asked my mom if I was this exhausting too!

She says I wasn't so I am going to take her word for it and pin it all on your generation as the adrenaline-infused batch of mankind.

Why am I writing this today?

That is a good question, baby.

Here is why - as I mentioned before, I have lost my village.

I don't mean a literal one but the one from the phrase - It takes a village to raise a child.

It took a pandemic for the mother in me to realise how I have not been the only on raising you!

From the teachers at your school, to the neighbour's friendly daughter;

From the children at my mommy-friends' meet to the garden-visit in the evenings;

From the half-day I spend at office while you stay with your grandmother to the visits to your naani's place -

Everything and everybody has had a role to play in raising you.

I always knew about these. I am just learning of how monumental their role is in our lives, as we are bound indoors since a long time, with no outdoor arena, no friends (yours as well as mine), no school (except for the classes on screen, which are hardly a school), no visits to any place that could divert your attention towards anything but me!...

I am exhausted without all these, darling...

I am not just your mother anymore.

I am your age-appropriate friend as well as the elder didi who loves playing with you.

I am your teacher at school as well as your classmate.

I am your garden-play as well as your indoorsy play pal.

I am your home as well your office.

Wait...that would be you for me!

You see how exhausted I am, now?!

Here is the funny thing - I always wanted to be your whole world, dearly.

But now that I truly am, I am kind of disappointed in myself.

I am unable to cope with the energy level of a 3-year-old!

Maybe it is the effect that your sleeping face besides me has on me or maybe it is truly guilt inside of me, but I really wish I could be more for your sake.

It hurts to see the year 2020 crippling your merry childhood days like this.

I really wish I could not get this exhausted...

It will be morning soon and your incessant talks and questions will start popping again!

Again - Seeing you quietly asleep in innocence, there is a part of me can't wait for it!

And then there is the other part which is sane enough to realise the incoming exhaustion from tomorrow, beforehand, over & above this film of rosy love in my eyes for you.

Which is when, I know I could say this -

And then again, I wish you wouldn't be so exhausting either...

But above all, I wish for this more than anything else:
May the fog of this year's dismay lift and may I find my village thriving beneath it again!

Love,

Maa.

 

Out of the box

Dear Piya,

This world is much too competitive.

One has to constantly be on their feet to make their mark, if they wish to.

Ideas are dime a dozen, but only a rare few of them stand out...

I can almost sense the way you are getting bored while reading this pseudo biz-talk.

But I have a reason to be sharing this with you.

The world is not just competitive for adults but for kids too; even for kids as young as 2 to 3 year old, who barely understand the concept of competition!

But since they mostly operate as per the instructions of the adult parent around them, this sense of wanting be be on the top of their game seeps into young minds through us only.

For what?

For achieving all age-appropriate milestones.

For showing skills of a future artist since young age.

For chanting rhymes even before school starts.

For learning all that can be taught later, at the expense of all that constitutes ‘fun’ during childhood.

And in this era, especially, for being able to do all the things that ‘that same-aged child’ is doing in a video on social media.

I wish I could say that I am nothing like the parent next door. But I too beam brighter every time you ace a Skill considered to advance your age.

Thankfully, my pride starts and ends there itself.

Don’t mind, love, but I am sure you will learn all there is to, in school. So while I do feel happy when you excel in all that is considered desirable in young children, I have been spending these days in trying to just goof around like a child, with you.

I don’t teach you traditional rhymes. Instead, I make up rhymes of my own.

I don’t make you write alphabets, but I do show you an array of illustrated books.

I don’t insist that you memorise words, although you do exhibit a really good memory with everything that is spoken around you (much to my agony at times!).

Now if that is being too boastful, then let me share some more.

I introduce you to activities to let you find your likes & dislikes. 

And since I have made the effort of getting something for you, I always insist that you at least try the activity.

I took up one particular activity a few days back - drawing & painting.

Yes, kids your age are supposed to be very friendly with drawing & painting activity, and so, I got you colouring pens and a colouring book.

To lead the way, I drew a little, and then offered you the colouring pens to follow suit. Not wanting to influence you or interfere with your artwork, I went to do chores of my own.

Now, I wasn’t insisting that you be competitive. I would have danced, nevertheless, had you even tried drawing the way I had.

Instead, this is what you did -

You hit the pens’ nibs so hard on the paper, that the nibs sunk into the pen, and became useless in giving out color thus.

You looked around and found an interesting object - the color pens’ caps. With the pens having been rendered useless, you showed some real creativity with the caps.

I felt a pat on my leg sometime later, only to turn around and find you standing behind me, with all your fingers having been capped with a colouring pen’s tops, each.

All fingers, but for the thumb, were dancing below my eyes, in fancy attire of caps!

I bit my lip and asked you, “What happened, Piya?”

“Will you help me cap the thumb with this pen’s cap, please?” you said as you presented the fifth cap to me.

“What happened to the colouring pens?” I asked.

You simply insisted that I cap your thumb, as you thrusted the fifth cap in my hand, without bothering to answer me.

I abided and capped your thumb, only to laugh out aloud the very next minute as you jiggled your capped fingers in my face and started singing “Happy birthday to you...”

I have absolutely no idea what brought this on.

I did draw to show you what needed to be done, did I not?

How you went from there to jiggling your fingers with the caps on, still baffles me!

But you did, and with glee.

As I was saying, darling. The world is much too competitive. One is always expected to follow suit, and then one is also expected to bring something new to the table.

If only I can maintain this streak of showing you one thing and witnessing a newer perspective to it from you in return, I will consider my parenting as a job well done.

I will need your help here, though.

Always stay the happy child that you are.

Nothing else will matter, then, trust me.

Love, 

Maa.

A Game Of Charades

Dear Piya,

It feels like you started playing charades with me the minute you were born.

Oh, yes!

I was at the mercy of guesswork with regards to what your actions and expressions stood for, for a long time, after your birth. And let me tell you this - it was no fun at all.

But I am writing this letter about the first, technical game of dumb charades that you played with me, today.

Like a quintessential young child, you take a lot of cues from what happens in your surroundings. 

And today, when your father and I were playing dumb charades around food (yes, he was enacting a dish, believe it or not!) with him acting out something for me to guess, you seemed to be taking mental notes on the quiet.

I say so because after 5 minutes of a detailed observation, you walked up to & asked your father to step aside, with the flair of a pro!

And in the very next minute I got a visual peek into the mental notes you had been taking -

You started doing some actions that your father had been enacting, with no knowledge, whatsoever, about what had been going on.

You were playing dumb, literally, without even meaning to!

So, there I was, trying to make sense of what you were trying to tell me, through some random actions, for something you had in your mind, only to realise that my efforts were in vain.

And so after a minute, I decided that two could play the game and so I started saying out random words as guesses as well.

This is where you beamed up, with my random responses (I am yet to understand the head and tail of what happened!). If I were to guess, I would say that you were enjoying a response in the first place.

But since you kept moving your ams in the air like a silly octopus, I ran out of guesses soon. 

Can you please guess, what you did, now?

Let me paint a picture -

Your father was watching this dramatic charades as you & I struggled to get on the same page.

I was running out of guesses and you were holding your fort with the same, single action since long.

So, as I appeared to be giving up, you slowly moved your palm to your lips and tried to mouth something.

I let out a ticklish 'Huh?!' upon seeing this smart act.

You responded with a little volume from out of your mouth, now.

But it was still inaudible; supremely funny, but low on volume nevertheless.

"Oregano!" you finally muttered with some decibel level in your voice, finally.

"OREGANO?!" I whooped.

The joy on your face knew no bounds! You were so, so happy!

You showed you won the game. And how?!

While your father hugged you and danced, I sat there in a surprised wonder around why you had chosen 'oregano' of all things in the world to enact.

You quickly moved onto the next act, and by next act I mean, the same old action that I had been unable to crack with the marvel of 'oregano', previously.

But it had clearly worked in your mind, and so you stuck to the classics.

We had 'mirchi', 'dahi' and 'chocolate' come, in the same manner, thereafter, with you whispering the word, after 5 seconds of having tried the classic action of pointing your arms in the direction of the refrigerator, which I now caught on to.

I wish I could tell you that there is something common amongst these.

There isn't.

I wish I could say that you love all these food items. 

You don't love them all.

I wish I could tell you that it all made sense, somehow.

It did not.

It still doesn't.

But it made you rejoice.

And so, nothing else matters.

May we keep playing such random, illogical games of fun all life long!

Love,

Maa.

When I was a little girl...

Dear Piya,

The subject line of this letter may have misled you.

To clarify, this isn't a letter about the time when your old woman here was a little girl herself. She was, yes, and that time seems to belong to another era, altogether, now, but let us not get me started on that one, now, shall we?

This is about the time when you were little; about how you have become obsessed with this one phrase "Jab main chhoti thi na...", these  days.

I must have you confused again.

Yes, you are three years old today.

And yes, you love going over the times when you were little (as if you have become a big, old granny now!).

But that is the fun element riding on this letter!

I know I haven't touched this topic a lot, but we are currently in the middle of a major shift across the world, and when I say shift, I mean 'standstill'. Years from now, you will ask me more and I will have an endless stream of documents across the internet to tell you from; but for now, know this -

We are at home these days. We have to stay at home, in a manner of compulsion, for our own safety, as there is a global pandemic going on, by the name of 'Covid19 Corona Virus'.

It is a serious topic and that should tell you why I am not going to write much about it.

I would rather we talk about things that will make us remember this phase with a smile as opposed to a sadness drawn all over our face.

So, where was I?

Oh, yes!

We are home.

And we are bored; more than I can tell you.

And so in order to pass time, which you, my little girl, don't make an easy task with your super-active self competing with my senile body all the time, when you asked something fun of me to do with you, for the hundredth time, some days back, I asked you, "How about we go through a photo-album?"

"Woh kya hota hai?" you asked immediately.

I felt so old in that one moment...my 3-year-old was so used to seeing people click & watch pictures on their cellphones that she did not know of the existence of physical copies of photos too! I think I experienced some of the weight of 'generation gap' between you & I, a little, just then.

As we looked through the pictures, a beautiful album of a photoshoot we had with you when you were a year-old, opened up. You were mesmerised by it, instantly!

The idea of your body being littler than it is today, fascinated you to no end.

"Is that me?"

"Main itni chhoti thi?"

"Main baat bhi nahi karti thi?"

"Main roti bhi nahi thi?"

You loved the idea of yourself being a baby, one smaller than what you are now. You asked me endless questions about why, when, what & how you did things as a little baby.

Your eyes grew bigger in awe with every answer.

You started connecting with this baby in the picture in a funny way, by drawing connections between 'Then and Now'.

As I said, you were fascinated.

And with that fascination came the string of statements that always began with "Jab main chhoti thi na..."

I have started enjoying these stories you tell, in this format. And I enjoy them for a full time period of 10 minutes, every time you start with this penchant for 'When I was a little girl...", only to ask you to give it up after that!

Yes, the chanting bugs me after that, love, I am sorry...

But don't get disheartened, because the 3-year-old-you doesn't stop just because her mother asks her to!

No! You chant it louder then, by coming nearer to my ears, making sure I don't miss out on every detail of your yet another 'When I was a little girl' story...

Funny or dancing right on my nerves, you surely know how to makes days fly by, and that is something that has made staying at home seem like a memorable period, for sure.

Love,

Maa.

Some recent developments - 1

Dear Piya,

There are some aspects of your personality that have bloomed recently.

My little bud is showcasing signs of the first few petals flowering out :)

And so, this letter is to capture all the new developments, for you to know how your prefrernces have panned our over the years -

1. no. No. NO. NO!!!!

I couldn’t have written it better, darling.

You have developed a strong smear of what you like or want.

When asked for anything else, otherwise, your reply is pretty straightforward, one that goes up in the decibel level with every passing second.

But that’s not it.

You have this authoritative side to you or maybe you just like taking charge of the siatuatiin at times...let me explain:

Your father and I argue at times. The topics vary, depending upon what drives us on that particular day.

Whatever be the issue, though, you remain a silent spectator for some time. We would want you to be away from the ongoing discussion, but that is not wakya an option. And so, we remain real in front of (there are pros and cons to it. Don’t judge!)

The point is - you jump into the conversation by literally jumping in between us and yelling at the top of your voice to shush us.

You lecture like an old grandmother!

And it is so effective!

Because the minute that’s happens, we burst out laughing only to enrage you further - the old granny doesn’t like being taken lightly...

Yes, dear. You are going to be one really vocal, really commanding person, love.

At least that is what these days are showing us.

2. Please...Pleaseeee...Pleaseeeeeee

Okay, moving on to the next development.

You take this from your father a 100%.

You have picked up on this beautiful etiquette of saying ‘please’ really well. And I believe I have told you this previously.

So well do you know to use this word, that you keep churning it out of your sweet lips every chance you get, and by that I mean -

~ please let me have some ice cream

~ please let me watch some more TV

~ please let me splash water all around

~ please let me stay awake

~ please (touching my leg, now)

~ pleaseeee (pulling my pants,  ow)

~ pleaseeeeeee (clutching on to my leg like a monkey, now)

~ DONT YOU UNDERSTAND? HOW MANY TIMES SHOULD I SAY PLEASE?  (Yes, we are back to the development no.1 now!)

3. Tomatoes??? Yuck!

Oh, yes!

What is this about, all of a sudden?

You refuse to eat tomatoes, these days.

If they are blended into daal (lentils) then it isn’t an issue.

Every other time, otherwise, you ask me to pluck out every ting piece of raw or cooked tomato from your food.

And when I refuse to, you simply take it upon yourself to do so and in the process, you spill out 10 other ingredients from the food on the tabke & the floor!

Who is going to clean that up, huh?!

Oh yes, that is when you look at Mommee dearest with development no. 2 - pleaseeeeeee!

4. I got a baby OWL

Oh, if I had a penny for every time you have refused to sleep, sweetheart - I would be bathing in riches!

Here is what I have come to believe, and this is of course based on the umpteen times you have point blank refused to sleep despite your eyes dropping from all the redness and drowsiness infused in them :

You postpone your sleep, for the fear of missing out on any or every development that would happen while your eyes took a break from the world.

Yes, that is my theory and I am sticking to it!

Unless, you prove me wrong by sleeping on time, without any fuss, with your nightwear clean and dry, on time, tonight!

Come on, girl! Prove me wrong. Here is your chance. Grab it with both hands. Come on, now!

Pleaseeeeeeeeee!!!!

Are you all caught up, baby?

I am trying to recollect more, because while I have listed down just 4, I promise there are more than a 100 such more. I am just too tired to remember them all right now.

But that’s okay.

Because that only means that I will be writing another letter soon :)

Love,

Naa.

One, Two, THREE!

Dear Piya,

Before you say anything, let me tell you this - I plead guilty.
I haven’t written to you in a long time, darling, and for that I plead guilty.

If this comes as any consolation then do know that the no. my letters have only been inversely proportional to the growth in our conversation beyond written words.

Having said that, I still wish I had written more :)

But I have something far more important than that to address today.

You turned three years old, love.

One.
Two.
THREE!

You will certainly feel like I keep making a big deal out of the days, weeks, months and years going by, to the extent of making you lose enthusiasm on the same, but wait, darling, wait!
Firstly, the days going by will always etch a special memory in my heart with something I got to live with you yet again, and how this time will never come back. You can pin this to my penchant for sweet, old, nostalgia, my love, if you will.

But there is another reason behind why your third birthday is making me reflect deeply, yet again.

It is the year of 2020, Piya.
And I just experienced a slight shiver run through my skin as I wrote this.

This year has been anything but kind to human beings.

From where you are sitting, reading this letter, the future that is - this year would have served as the subject for many a case study.
And the most explored topic would certainly have been this - Covid19, Corona Virus.

I am experiencing this right now -
The unimaginable has happened.
The world has come to a standstill, dear.

This virus has made the very bones of human beings hesitate to move an inch outside their homes.

And while today marks over 43 days of us having stayed indoors, there was uninhibited laughter in the house today, all thanks to you.

As scared as we were because of the ongoing strain around spread of this disease, we celebrated the day the way you deserved a birthday.

From cake, to decoration, to gifts, to celebration - we did it all.
Selfishly so - because the laughter on your face makes us forget our woes, and believe in life being a wonderful present.

While there were many highlights of the day, from you splashing water in the outdoor jacuzzi tub (yes, we are blessed to have one) to you helping me with your own birthday’s balloon decor to you dancing around in your birthday dress, one particular event has made itself my ‘highlight of the day’.

We presented you with a life-size pretend play set of a kitchen, love.

Now, I do not favour women opting to do kitchen related work just because they are women. I am sure your father will have an especially sour tone while sharing this with you as my ‘overdose of feminism’, too.

But I have observed you in and around the kitchen, more so of late, sweetheart.
I don’t know if it’s your age that makes you seek this or it’s your nature to want to participate, but you simply want to have a role in what’s happening around you.

With me, these days, that revolves around household chores, and then again with me as well as with your father it also has a little something to do with your want of clicking on the laptop under the pretext of ‘I am working, alright?!”

I am going on a foot here and trusting that you picked this fantastic line (alongwith the attitude with which you say it aloud) from your father.
I am rather poised to...ahem...anyway...

So, when it came to picking out a fight for you, it was a choice between a laptop (replica, of course) or a pretend play set for some house related chore.

Now a laptop seemed like something that would make you repeat some actions in a parrot-like fashion.
So - the kitchen set is what we got you (I managed to arrange this from a friend of mine, just yesterday, because we have a lockdown going on).


Our usual morning routine is more or less structured around me having to pester you to either keep yourself engaged in your meals of some activity or request you repeatedly to not pester me to begin with.

It would be safe to say that I saw less of you today than I have all through this lockdown phase, and perhaps even before that!

You LOVED the kitchen set!
You forgot your meals.
You forgot your sleep.
You forgot everything else!

You were engrossed in playing with the dishes, the knobs, the food, the utensils - all of it, basically!

I don’t know what to say, baby.
I am priding myself upon having gifted you something you took an immediate liking to, surely.

But more than that, I am proud of you.
You clearly showcase skills of practising independence with flair, if given complete freedom to operate at will.

With me, you are always being told how to handle your spoon, how to be careful with your plate, how not to drop the glass etc.
With your set, you were in charge.

I am not going to go into any premature insights as to declaring how you have a future in the culinary field - I think such presumptions are as naive as naïveté gets.
But I certainly see you learning from what you see around.

And with you depicting someone fine kitchen-art today, I would like to believe that I (as well as your elders) showcase some good skills for you to look up to too.



And now, to the best part of my day - you did not sleep all afternoon, much thanks to your new found love in the form of your kitchen set.
But that meant that night-night was to come sooner than usual.

It came better than usual too.
You fell sleep in my arms, on my shoulder.

I couldn’t make myself put you to bed for sometime.
After all, I was wondering how few a years I have left with you sleeping in my arms, after all...


And that’s how I experienced futuristic nostalgia in the present!

I love you darling.
And I have no doubt in this - you are a blessing in every form.

Happy birthday, my love.

Sleep well and dream big.

And hug me more often, for as long as you grow.


Love,
Maa.

With or without you...

Dear Piya,
Your old pals celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary this year.
It is quite a milestone for us, given the cat & mouse rapport couples like us share.

For this special day, hence, we wanted to have a nice lunch to ourselves; just the two of us.
We love you to the moon and back, darling, but we sought a little time away from you on this day, as we wanted to be just the two of us for just a couple of hours; and if you were to join us then that would not be possible in any foreseeable way.
You would jump around the nice restaurant that we were to select, making us remain more and more not-seated-on-the-tabke.
You would not stop talking at all, and owing to that, we would have to stop talking to each other so as to pay attention to your chirp (because otherwise your decibel level would keep on increasing with each passing minute, till you were to be addressed).
You would drop more food outside your plate and around the table than in your mouth which would make me request the waiter for more paper napkins than for food on the menu.

So, I hope you understand why we wanted to be alone for one lunch, don’t you?

Now since you have understood, let me share something - I don’t understand.
My heart wants some time away from you every now & then, but I never really understand why.

I love you, my girl.
I love being with you.
But my patience with you starts to wither after sometime, because I can never keep up with your unwavering energy. Not only do you not seem to get tired, you never allow the ones with you to take a break either!
And that is when I wish that you would take a nap or that I would take a break.

What I don’t understand is why my knees feel weak, then, every time I step out of the house without you. I don’t know why my eyes watch everything outside but my mind keeps thinking of you on the inside. I don’t know why every time you fall asleep I cannot take my eyes off your beautiful, innocent, little face, after having spent hours into begging you to go to sleep, I don’t know why a shard of guilt seems to pierce my heart with all the sour reminders of the silly ways that I was unfair to you during the day.
All I know is that separation from you is still a task I cannot master, even if that’s for a little while.

And so, when in this state of tug-of-war in my mind, when the rope remained taut towards not taking you along, you happened to overhear us whispering our way out the door.

We were sitting at the restaurant along with you, 15 minutes later.
Everything went just the way we were afraid it would.
If anything, the frowns on our faces were a bit more exaggerated than I had imagined them in my forecast to be.

“Never again...” we said to each other, multiple times during that one lunch.

This was one particular moment wherein some clarity came to my understanding of wanting some time away from you once in a while.
But it soon evaporated when we happened to discuss this incident with another couple-friend of ours the next day.

They too had decided to not take their kid along with them on their anniversary-celebration-lunch.
Unlike us, they managed to stick to their plan.

And upon hearing our side of the sob-story, they shared theirs.
There was an eerie silence throughout their lunch and there wasn’t a minute when they did not miss the cacophony of their kid being around.

They returned home with a different version of “Never again...” than ours.

So here is the fun fact, love.
You are a handful but you are the love of our life.
And it is because of this that we parents will always be in the perennial sweet spot of wanting to be with you and then without you, every now & then.


Love,
Maa.

Then and now - part 1

Dear Piya,
I am starting this letter as the first of many ‘Then & now’ letter-series that I am sure I will end up writing to you.
The ‘Then’ will always stand for the time period that the ‘Now’ makes seem like an eternity ago.

You are a few months short of being 3 years old and I am already experiencing a huge gap between then and now; so I ought to tell you how much you have grown and how nostalgic this little time-frame makes me feel.

You know about how I have kept writing to you about the small & big things that make up our life.
But what you do not know is that despite wanting to write more, I have not been able to encompass everything I would have wanted to.
Your precious Papa makes it a point to bring many such memories to my notice every now & then. And so, on Valentine’s Day this year, when he & I started talking about the years gone by (it feels customary for married couples to engage in such trivia-talk on special occasions), we just couldn’t dissociate you from love. Funny, how we dabbed upon our love for each other for just a few minutes and then quickly went on to talking about our love for you for a long, long time!

We started talking about all the cute acts that you have entertained us with alongside growing up wonderfully.
And like a quintessential child, you have given us many an adorable lisp-filled memories.
From those, I want to tell you about a particularly fascinating memory, that your father mentioned I skipped having written about.

Till a year, or so, back, your hold around words was just getting solidified.
It is during one of those days that you got attached to a game we played, called ‘Statue!’
When said ‘Statue!’ to, by anyone pointing their fingers in your direction as if they were holding a gun, you are supposed to become a statue; not supposed to move at all, for as long as the same person doesn’t say ‘Over!’

You laughed like you were being tickled rigorously, every time I shouted ‘Statue!’ in your direction.
And soon enough, you started holding your gun-like-fingers towards me and ordering ‘Statue!’
You used to get really riled up if I did not obey the rule to stop moving.
And while quite adorable, this wasn’t my favourite part of the game.
What was, though, was the way you pronounced ‘statue’.

Tachoo.
That’s what you said.

Try saying it right now as you read this. You will know why I am laughing hard already as I write this!

It was such a cute, adorable to the point of wanting to hug you & shower multiple kisses upon your innocent face, till the point you screamed your way out of my tight hug.
But, sadly, every time I brought out the camera to record this loveable moment, you would shut your mouth zip tight.

Your father loved these instances of ‘Tachoo’ from you and kept asking me to record a video of the same, but it never got recorded.

When he brought it up yesterday with reference to how you perfectly pronounce ‘statue’ now, it became a nice walk down the memory lane from ‘then’ to ‘now’.

We miss those days of your ‘Tachoo’ talks, baby.
And while every single day with you seems like a memory in the making, remembering the same always comes along with a soft sigh on our lips; knowing that those days will never come back is a little heart-breaking.

May the days to come be filled with more such sighs, though.
That’s all I desire for.

Happy Valentine’s Day.


Love,
Maa.

Shush!

Dear Piya,

One of the things that is really cute about a baby is the way they pout their lips while trying to mouth words. I have felt many a butterflies-in-my-heart moment when you were learning to talk, but all that came out was baby-babble.

Had I known the wikipedia of questions that was coming my way in the years to come, I would have taught you words at a much slower pace.

Yes, this is about the constant chitter-chatter, jibber-jabber jukebox that you have turned into after having solidified your grasp around speech.
It is like you just won't shush!
And this is one word you have caught onto like glue because I repeat this as often as I call your name.

"Piya, shush!"

This, you repeat, in an exhausting manner when what you say is not being heard by those around you, with the flair of - "Everyone, shush! Listen to me!"
Oh, yes! No exaggerations here.

If people think cats are curious then I believe I want to alter a famous adage to "...and then the kid's curiosity fried their mother's brain!"
That is how many questions a young child can ask a day and that is how escalating the decibel levels of 'Shush!' can be from the mother's mouth.

Be it at home, be it in a restaurant, be it even in a car while driving to some place, you talk to, you ask of and you shush everyone around, with no pause.
Since some time, I have started taking the liberty of asking you to keep quiet just once and then continuing with my work with a little display of "I am not listening to you, anymore".
Guess what? In response to this, you have shown to go onto talking aloud, as if to the surroundings, nevertheless!
I mean, wow!

I understand that you love to talk, darling. It is a fun aspect of a growing child's quirks.
But what I don't understand is how to make you understand that communication is a two-way street and then, more importantly, that speech is silver but silence is truly golden!

Well, you will learn as you grow, I guess.
But if that is not happening any time soon, then we surely have some tedious years filled with constant chatter, unending string of questions and a whole lot of to & fro 'shushing' our way.

If we go through some old picture-albums some few years from now, when you are grown up, and you come across a picture of mine that has my teeth clenched, not sure if I am happy or angry, then look upto this letter for reference, will you?
In the meanwhile, please 'Shush, baby!'



Love,
Maa.

Little Granny

Dear Piya,

You started to talk since an early age, sooner than many babies your age.
And all the joy that I experienced while enjoying your lisp-filled-chubby-talks have faded away a bit ever since you have donned the cap of a 'Little Grandmother' in our home.

I am not exaggerating.

You have started mimicking the sentences your father and I exchange.
This should only go on to tell you how very careful we have to be, weighing every word spoken aloud, with you around.
So, we put on our genius caps and came up with the solution being that of spelling out the words that ought not fall upon your sucker ears.

It goes without saying that 'chocolate', 'ice-cream', 'pani puri' and the likes were the first ones to make the cut. These were the 'troublemaker words' and so they had to be careful of.
In fact, so used to did we become to spelling out words that once, your Papa spelled out a not-so-troublemaker word to a guest who had come, even while you weren't in the room.
It may not seem like something to laugh about now, but we had quite a hahahaha-moment that time.

Now, the little grandmother in you has come to surface owing to the things we say to each other with regards to you.
So, while you father keeps telling me things he thinks I ought to do better, I do the same. One of these was telling him once that your cries seem to become aggravated when you are given a hug forcefully.
After a long day at work, Daddy-dearest wishes for you to come running into his arms to help melt away his fatigue, but you are not always in the mood to shower the same. In times like these, if you are given a tight hug, nevertheless, you seem to show your best cry aloud.

And so, I was telling your father to not insist on the same, you know, for the benefit of our ears.

You seemed to have heard this so well that the next day when you were offered a hug in the same manner, you cried with a "You were told not to do this na? Why are you doing it?"
You said it like a little granny!
You even had your 'talk to the hand' look up!

Your dad shot a surprised look in your direction, followed by an irate one in mine!
You are just 2.5 years of age, and you are already getting me into trouble, you little granny!
The worst part was that I laughed so hard, I had tears rolling down my cheeks. This did not help your father's mood get any better. Not that this slowed my laughter, no sir!

Anyway, the moral of the story is that it is only going to get tougher & tougher conversing with others around you. I just hope you don't end up blurting out something nasty that I said, the next time.
Not that I say anything nasty, alright?
Okay, this letter ought to end right now.

Love,
Maa.

Shenanigans and hugs

Dear Piya,

Days seem to keep running away from me these days.
You would know this by the increasing lengths of intervals between my letters to you.

The truth is that I found myself with all the time in the world after you came into my life. You were are handful (an am sure still are), yes. But apart from feeding you. cleaning you and waiting for you to fall asleep, there was little work, if any, professionally speaking.

That I decided to build this blog in the form of a diary to you is the best I could have done with the first 12 months of our lives.

I say this because I published a book based on our letters. You probably know that as the little, 2.5-year-old you keeps chanting 'Me to Mommee' every now and then around me, much to my heart's delight.

I found a new flair in my own self through this one decision of taking up writing.
My career has taken a huge shift owing to the same and that is what has filled the free time in my life with writing assignments now.
Sadly, that keeps taking my time away from writing to you, love.

But, here I am now, and if you have caught on the phrases I keep speaking aloud around you, the  you would know that this is the perfect opportunity for me to quote "देर आये, दुरुस्त आये".

I have started to feel the guilt upto my neck these days, for any time that I am away from you, baby.
But I also feel the need to take time away from you every now and then.
I guess this is how all mothers feel.

Speaking of this mother's bundle of joy, with time, your naughtiness has only grown in leaps and bounds, so much so that I keep losing my temper these days more often than not. But the minute I lose it on you is followed by an hour of self-loathing towards myself.
And that has a major chunk of reason sunk in those pitiable-cat-eyes you pop out crying aloud.
It hurts but so does your increasing level of mischief.

I find myself torn between letting you be and inculcating discipline in you.
It just seems impossible to have both!
And I know this because I have struggled with trying to be nice, and then not so nice, with no major results showing up.
You seem to just love throwing things around, kick-boxing everything & everyone in sight, acting with utmost stubbornness everywhere, refusing to follow directives and, your perennial favourite, procrastinating sleep.

All of these affect my day, and my mood, in a really adverse manner.
You see, unlike you, I cannot have all of the day get away without having a thousand errands to run.
I wish I did, but that would be the precise definition of wishful thinking!

While play is all you should engage in, your old woman is not at the liberty to enjoy the same.
I hope I am not jealous of you at some level, because of this.

I look at your innocence through the endless stream of pictures on my phone every chance I get, asking myself why I would ever want to instruct anything into somebody so perfect. Why should a child so young be subjected to any rules of do-this-not-that, at all!

I have lost quite some sleep over this, love.
But what comforts me every time is your unfailing forgiveness.

While you catch on to the stupid things we say around you with a mental net, you have recently started repeating one statement in particular.
Every time you hug me apologetically, after having enraged me with your childish shenanigans, you gently whisper "I love you a big deal, Mommee".

This what I have whispered into your ears, every time guilt ate away a part of my heart for having been unfair to you, ever since you were born.
My heart grows a bit every time I hear you say this to me, now,

I love you a big deal too, my darling.
I will try to act better, as I wish you will too.


Love,
Maa.

A new year wish.

Dear Piya,
It feels good to be back here, with you, after a long break.

If you ask me why I have been away, I will simply show you a book titled ‘Me to Mommee’.
It is the first book your old woman published, last year, my little girl.
It is the first love I have had after having loved you.
It is the journey of a mother and her child.
It is you and I.

It is essentially the letters that I have written to you so far.

It took 2 years to write, and over 8 months to put on paper.
It is a book, but it is so much more than that.
It is an experience of the first 2 years of our comaraderie.

When I hold it, it feels like I am holding all the emotions that I have lived with you, all at once.
And while every letter that I have ever written to you is a house of nostalgia packed with vivid emotions, reading the book, even if just a few chapters at a time, makes me relive all the little things that have made up our story so far, all at once.

Oh, the weightage of this is something I cannot explain, in words, darling!

You may wonder why such elaboration upon this one establishment from my life, right?
My love, I wish for you to know what it means to find joy in something.

I belong to the school of thought that believes in loving what you do. Life, then, seems less of work and mote of fun

I see your little self enjoying every activity you undertake these days.
And while I pray that this innocent streak of finding joy in everything remains with you till the end of time, I am aware of how wishful a thinking that would be.

So, I am telling you the lesser bright side of life - the one that comes after the candy-land that is childhood.

I do so, so as to show you the deep satisfaction that one experiences when one puts their heart & soul into their work.
The work then becomes preciously satisfying in itself.

Aa a new year begins, I wish a rainbow-filled-land-of-dreams for you, wherein you find immense happiness, spoonfuls of humour, a few hurdles and then a million hugs in all that you undertake.
May life keep you pleasantly surprised and then satisfactorily smiling, at the end of each day.

Happy new year, my love.


Love,
Maa.