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.