An update on life

 Dear Piya,

In the last few months, I have had 5 letters enter my mind, and 10 leave alongside.

I wove each letter to you with conversations taking place in the form of monologues that the voices in my head played to perfection.

So much so that, they became pretty complacent with the letter having somehow flown your way.

As did I.

Life is happening as we speak, my darling girl!

There is so much to share, so much to capture, so much to weave as a memory and at the same time live through to the fullest, that I have decided to kick the complacence out of the window and give you an update on all that we have been through.

First things first, you have grown up, yet again, much like the ache in my heart that wonders how numbered these days of having you fit into my lap, truly are.

As you grow, so does your spontaneity, your creativity and that spark which I am yet to find the pulse of!

Your responses take me by surprise every second day.

Just the other day, you interrupted a conversation I was having with someone, with a polite 'Will you please stop talking and listen to what I have to say? It's important!'

When you Papa was away on a trip, recently, your first question to him on the video call was 'Baat baad mein, pehle batao mere liye kya laoge?'

There is an 'Act of Kindness' jar in our home, which you fill in with a chit, every time you do something helpful. You are attached to it with all your life, so much so that I use the tact of emptying the jar as a threat to extract good behaviour out of you.

You now have a pet rabbit, who you have wittily named 'Vanilla' citing 'Look at it! It is so white! It has to be Vanilla!' 

You are getting better at taking in this 'online school-class' with each passing day to the extent that you are one of the most talkative kids in your class as of today, much to the delight of your very own super-talkative Mumma! Just a few months back, you used to be a quiet witness to all that went on the screen before you. Whenever I probed, you would be ready to with a 'I am too shy, Mumma...' 

Too shy to howl throughout the day? Nope.

Too shy to keep mum when I am on a call? No way!

Too shy to sit in one corner and play by yourself? How I wish at times!

But when it comes to matters that do not necessarily agree with you, my little girl all of a sudden realises that she has a 'too shy' boat to back on.

So much has changed, Piya. So much is changing even as I write this; I am just going to reel it back with nostalgia in another letter, later.

But some things haven't changed and they are -

You still give me the best hugs, everyday.

I still kiss you a thousand times each day.

You still have the most innocent face I have ever seen.

You still annoy me & amuse me, all at the same time.

You still amaze me with the little wonder that is the girl I gave birth to.

Keep staying this amazing, my darling.

Life is too short to be anything else 💛

Love,

Maa.

P.S. I have taken up storytelling more seriously than ever. I wish I can become somebody you would love listening to always. After all, there is a different level of satisfaction in gaining validity from one's very first muse ❤️

Will you play with me, please?

Dear Piya,

As the time-gaps keep getting longer & longer between my letters to you, I feel like I am falling short of excuses.

But please accept this one, today.

I started writing yo you, at a time when our conversations were more of a monologue : A young mother going through post-partum blues talking to her infant little girl, hoping that the gibbersih agooos in return from a babbling mouth were actual pieces of sentences she wanted to hear from her little best-friend-for-life.

Today, when you are not that little anymore (you haven't been so since your gibberish turned into a perenially ongoing channel of kiddo-radio), talking to you actually feels like a real conversation.

Yes, the advices are more self-appropriating, from your side, like 'Just let me watch my cartoon and I'll get out of your hair!'.

That is, both, helpful and not helpful, at the same time. But I happen to roll with it from time to time.

What I am trying say is this - It feels like you need less & less of my letters with each passing day.

And while that feeling is both, good & not so good, at the same time, I am actually sitting on life's incoming philosophical lesson - that like my letters, you will grow towards needing me less & less as well, in the years to come.

That is the reason I wish I spend more time talking to you directly, than writing to you.

But as is the case with life, there is always a curveball around the corner.

This last year has been cruel to mothers like myself.

I have been home-bound.

Working for home.

Working from home.

And raising a more-curios-than-a-cat kind of 3-year-old, amidst all.

I was of a strong belief that I had a lot to complain about, given how this pandemic has shaken up lives.

But, today, it came to my notice that when it comes to troubles, there is no comparison of pain - It is, really, to each, their own.

It must have happened for the Nth time, but sadly, I noticed it only for the first time.

While juggling making the meals of the day, working for the home, working for office, working on my storytelling venture, assisting with your online educations & the activities thereafter and doing a dozen other chores alongside, I had my brain in the mode it has been all year long - Frozen, and in a zone.

That is to say that my responses have become robotic.

Seldom does something go deeper than the first layer of my skin. It is a very effective defense mechanism that popped up as the normal-life-as-we-knew-it started falling apart, much thanks to the pandemic of Covid-19.

As I worked in my 'zone' yet again this morning, you came up to me & said 'Mumma, please, mere saath khelo na...'

'Coming, baccha' was my first reply.

A few minutes later, you came back with the exact same request : 'Mumma, please, mere saath khelo na...'

'Piya, Mumma is busy, baccha', I said this time.

Some few minutes later again, you came repeating 'Mumma, please, mere saath khelo na...'

'Please baccha, learn to play on your ow...' I stopped as I mechanically spoke this sentence which I just realised had become so ingrained in my brain that it came out of my mouth without me having to even make eye-contact with my child, as my hands kept working on the tasks of the day.

I stopped mid-sentence and looked at this girl whose head barely reached the edge of my waist.

With a soft-toy hugging your chest, your dewy eyes looked at me with hope & plea in them, as you pulled the end of my top.

You just wanted somebody to come play with you.

With your father addressing his office-duties and your mother bound to home-related-chores, your soft toys had done a fine job of becoming your imaginary friends so far.

But there is only so much comfort that a monologue can provide. The minute a two-way-conversation starts, even the dearest of letters can take a back seat!

I would know that better than anybody else, right?

You talk, alright.

But today, the pout on your lips and the request in your eyes told me what your words couldn't.

While a lot has been lost by the adults in the world, the loss suffered by the little ones has been a great one too.

You, my child, have lost out on your childhood :

The glee of meeting with your-age silly-willies.

The routine of going to a school.

The excitement of eating lunch with your classmates from your tiffin-boxes.

The zest of spending the evenings in the common garden.

The connection with elements like mud, rocks, leaves & water - all in the company of somebody who isn't pedantic about cleanliness (like your parents) but actually enjoys making a mess like you do.

The hug of childhood called 'Play'...

I am sorry, my darling.

I am sorry for this has been a rough year for you.

There must be a world-full of emotions brimming inside of you that I am not aware of, because as a little child there is only so much you can express.

I wish I could wave a wand and make it all go away, somehow. Wouldn't that be something?

I would like to believe, though, that, there are things beyond the understanding of all of us that make the moons go round & round the planets.

May those energies be touched by these wailing hearts of little children like you, to help the world heal fast.

For now, I will try my best to be your pal.

Come, lets play.

Love,

Maa.

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.