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.