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.