Too close

During the pandemic, a mother and daughter went out to buy groceries from the nearby shop. The groceries at home would last for another week and so it was necessary to buy a few things today. A short walk would take them to the shop that opened only for a limited period during the day.

On their way, the daughter saw a puppy who was running wildly, probably looking for its mother. The puppy followed them to the grocery store. While the mother was busy ordering her items, the daughter wandered off to look for the puppy. The daughter went too close to the puppy and the next thing, she hurried to be near her mother and help her with the heavy bags.

Both walked home chatting about social distancing and online teaching. On returning home, the daughter told the mother about a scratch on her foot. The wild behaviour of the puppy and the scratch on foot along with the daughter’s worried voice, made the mother concerned. Both went to the nearest doctor’s clinic who prescribed an anti rabies injection as a preventive measure.

When I was a ghost !

We moved to Pune from Hyderabad when our daughter was eighteen months old and luckily we found a rental apartment very near to a garden (Thorat Udyan). I was a full time mother and in the summer season, I would take my daughter to the garden which provided a play area, lawn, kittens and most of all the presence of so many children running and enjoying themselves.  

One particular hot day, I decided to go home by a rickshaw and so late in the evening, I stood holding my daughter's hand to hire a rick. My wait turned into quite a delay as none would oblige to take me home for such a short distance. I was losing my patience when suddenly a driver pulled up and I grabbed my opportunity. I first sat in the rick and then gave him directions. 

He started off slowly and within two minutes, I realized that the driver was totally drunk. I held my daughter close and asked him to stop. But poor me, the driver was too sloshed to hear me. He drove on slowly and I wondered whether we would reach home safely. 

The driver stopped at a signal and I had my opportunity. I mentioned that we were getting down at the signal and I kept a Rs 10 note ready in my hand. We both got down and I told the driver to take the money. But poor fellow was too drunk to hear anything and as soon as the signal turned green, he drove away. I heaved a sigh of relief and at the same time chuckled to myself that on stopping and remembering, the driver would obviously think that he had been hired by a ghost who disappeared some where. 

This incident happened fourteen years back and even to this day, I burst out laughing whenever it crosses my memory.

Zombie Apocalypse

Ganesh Chaturthi is a festival in Maharashtra which brings all together for welcoming Lord Ganesha, the God of success. During His stay of maximum ten days, people celebrate with conduction of extra curricular activities for children, performing aarti twice a day, socializing etc. After the ten day period, people bid adieu to Lord Ganesha on the day of Ganesh Chaturthi. The festivities witness the traditional 'dhol tasha', elaborate rangoli designs, flower decorations and a large procession.

Our small society of four buildings is no exception to this. The small number of children and youngsters, followed by an even smaller number of adults; too were a part of the society's Ganpati Visarjan procession. My daughter too was smartly dressed for the occasion and among her friends, was trying to observe the puja and proceedings. The elders were concentrating on the puja and the procession, the kids were trying to follow the elders and the teenagers were trying to look proper. With this observation, my daughter found herself in a group of people right from the movie titled 'zombie apocalypse'. She quipped that indeed, the whole procession looked straight out of the zombie apocalypse movie with all silently and solemnly marching in the procession and clapping their hands. Her comparison of Ganesh Chaturthi to the movie, makes me laugh even today and I wonder at my daughter's sense of humour ! 

Communication ke side effects

One day, a mother daughter duo was walking down the road for an evening walk. The daughter looked preoccupied, so the mother asked her the problem.

"Oh nothing, much, just that we friends had an argument at school. Tanya is getting on everybody's nerves. Even the Class 9 girls hate her, make fun of her. Our class also tries to avoid her. But she continues to behave the same way.", said the daughter.

The mother could not understand the gravity of the matter, but her daughter's mood was enough for her to take the matter seriously. "What is the problem ? Why are senior class girls also having problems with Tanya ? Do you really interact with the Class 9 girls so much ? Why ? .... ", the list of questions seemed never to end.

The daughter forgot her main problem and started to think about answering all her mother's queries - what to answer, how to answer and most importantly - where to start etc. Tanya, her classmate, was quite a manipulative person, who cooked up stories about people and made their life complicated.

"So how does this affect you ?" quipped the mother.

"Well not directly, but I don't like her to harass others", replied the daughter.

"Why do you need to poke your nose in others' problems ?", the mother's remark was more of an advice or a question, left me confused.

"Oh ! that is why I don't tell you", the final decision from the daughter was not the first of its kind. Probably, most of us I made the same statement to our parents. The actual problem got totally sidelined and while communicating, the mother daughter actually faced a problem of communication gap.

Isn't this a side effect of communication - that of giving rise to more confusion or never ending discussion. People want to be heard and not listen to others, which possibly causes the communication side effects. Enjoy folks and learn to listen !

Your intelligence is my common sense

Neha's hand at painting was drawing appreciation from friends and neighbors. Even her classmates would exclaim in amazement at her abilities. Her parents were also proud of her work and encouraged her in pursuing her hobby. Neha, on her part, would look forward to her drawing classes and work on her piece with concentration and gusto. Her teacher had seen a spark in Neha for painting water color or landscapes and he would give her challenging tasks.

'All this attention and praise should rather not go to Neha's head', her parents would think. So Neha's father would enquire about others' work too. He chanced upon the fact that acrylic paintings looked attractive. So one day, he asked Neha about taking up acrylic painting so as to learn new things. Neha was perplexed at this question for she felt that she had a lot to learn in water colors. So gathering her wits and confidence, she told her father that water color requires more effort and perfection. The color shades need to be perfect and once done, cannot be repainted. The acrylic colors on the other hand require more patience and concentration. The paint has to be dry for other color to be painted on top of it.

Neha gave quite some information to her parents that day who were ignorant of these facts. But on realizing the details, Neha's father exclaimed that indeed he has gained a lot of information and become more intelligent.

"Obviously, Baba, Your intelligence is my common sense ", quipped Neha.

All of us burst out laughing and Neha got the permission to paint her room as well. The required paints have been bought by her father without losing any time. 

Did you bring the purse ?

I recall this incident that happened a few years back when my daughter was about 4 year old. Our house was located near a garden which would be full of children and their mothers in the evening. You could witness excitement and chaos with the garden full of children running, shouting and playing around. Such a situation is an opportunity for the balloon sellers as well. No wonder that there would be a few around the garden.

One evening, after playing for over 2 hours on the swing and slide and fighting with friends, my daughter finally called it a day! Deep within, I was relieved to finally get back to home, have dinner and sleep peacefully after a job and cooking and the garden part. So the two of us started to walk home. Stepping outside, my daughter saw the balloons and wanted me to buy one for her. Quickly I gave her the red balloon that she so much wanted. The joy and excitement on her face and a doubt on mine, were two contrasting expressions. I was worried that everyday this would get repeated and the talk of good parenting would fly into the air.

The next day, as expected the same thing happened. My daughter insisted on buying another balloon. But obviously, I was prepared and told her that I had forgotten to bring my purse with me. No purse meant no money and no money meant no balloon. Disappointed, my daughter looked at the bunch of balloons and we walked away. I was surprised at her understanding nature and I also gave a pat on my back for instilling a sense of money value in my daughter.

On the third day, I made some cooking arrangements and both of us dressed for going to the garden. Locking the door, I was preoccupied with thoughts on cooking that would follow on reaching home, when suddenly, out of the blue, my daughter asked me, "Did you bring the purse ?". "Yes, Of course ! Dear, why do you ask ?"

"So that we may buy the balloon !", said an excited little girl's voice.

Before I could stand my ground, I knew I had been bowled over. It never struck me that my daughter would catch me in a situation like this.

Once a Teacher, Always a Teacher !!

It was a very happy moment for me to receive message on Makar Sankranti, from my teacher and research guide. Although a true Gujarati, he had taken special care to send the message in Marathi language. His words were simple and jumbled up a bit but conveyed the message. The words were 'tilgul dya gud gud bolya', instead of 'til gul ghya god god bola'. [give til gul and speak sweetly, instead of take til gul and speak sweetly].

My habit of correcting, developed over a period of time as part of me being a teacher; took over me. I made a mention of this to my daughter to which she quickly replied, "Once a teacher, always a teacher !". She very nicely conveyed that it is more important to see the broader picture. We both had a hearty laugh over this.

Drawing Competition

It is with great pride and joy that I narrate my experience about a 'Drawing Competition' that my daughter participated in Pune that truly drew the crowds to her work. The competition, organized by Maharashtra Times in five different venues at Pune, saw a large gathering of enthusiastic children of various age groups between 8 to 13 years. All children were engrossed in their artistic skill while the parents kept an eye on their ward and chatting with other parents.

The appointed photographer had a great landscape to capture; with innocent faces, concentrated eyes and busy hands, the children provided him with a perfect blend of emotions to be clicked. Though, I noticed the photographer quite away from my daughter to notice her work, which I otherwise would have loved to be clicked.

Anyway, after about an hour to spare, my daughter had nearly completed her painting when one good observant lady pointed her out to others, mentioning the beauty of the painting. A group of people soon started to notice her and her work. I was an observer to this; all the while feeling very proud and happy; I resisted from mentioning our mother daughter relation, for I wanted to soak in each and every compliment given to her. At last, when the people had settled and nothing more was to be said, I mentioned casually that the girl they were talking about is my daughter. All mentioned that indeed my daughter has exceptional talent. Parent who were into similar area, even pointed out that the techniques used by her are quite difficult to learn and implement.

At the end of the drawing competition, I realised that one participant had succeeded in drawing not only a beautiful picture but also had drawn together all strangers in their admiration of her drawing. 

Watching a movie in theater ...

Watching 'Jungle Book' at the age of eight, along with my mother and her friend and her children; is the earliest of my memories on watching a movie. I vividly remember that we all were treated to Gold Spot, a soft drink; which provided a cartoon character as a stamp behind the soft drink's cap. Each of us were happy to receive a character each which also invited discussion on their individual traits. The movie itself is a distant memory but the entire experience of selecting one of the three frocks, dressing with care, hiring a rickshaw, standing in a queue to buy the movie tickets, enjoying the treats, crying at the slightest discomfort to the hero and finally returning home in a rickshaw; is what is my earliest memory of watching a movie in a theater.

This experience was even more enhanced after attending college. Instead of the theater and the treats, the general issue was elaborate planning, forming a group, arranging for transport, pooling pocket money, bunking classes and then finally going to the theater where comments and teasing were the accepted norms. It is even more interesting to mention the fact that every year the 'Traditional Day' was celebrated in the college which saw everybody in their best attire, looking their best. Our class used to go to the movie on such days where we all would be cynosure of all eyes. The important aspect of this situation is not the movie or the treats but managing your traditional dress, trying to look your best, asserting your individuality in a group and finally bringing your personality out into the world. The entire experience was retold to the family with lot of excitement.

After completing education, individuals who later took up jobs, would plan for movies along with their colleagues strictly after office hours. Here the concept of bunking office is nearly non existent. People in such situations go for enjoying the movie; the concept of elaborate planning, managing yourself etc, takes a backseat. Buying the luxuries offered by a multiplex is more lucrative than the actual story of the movie. The fun part of the movie shifts the focus to the point where situations or people get associated with the central characters of the movie. Couples visiting such places are more into imagining themselves as hero or heroines and spinning their own yarn.

The entire individual focused experience takes a tumble after the birth of kid(s). Watching movie becomes more of an ordeal when the kid(s) are of kindergarten age. The constant nagging fear as to when a kid may start bawling, completely smashes the silence of the mind and the movie hall. A more comfortable situation is when your kid allows you to watch the movie provided you answer all their questions. So the focus now shifts to more of a question answer round for the kids and parents where at times you feel happy when the movie ends. Having enjoyed (or got traumatized) all these forms of movie watching, I have now shifted to another gear altogether where I am watching children's films like Minions, ice age etc. or sci fi films like Gravity, Interstellar etc.

My teenage daughter now makes plan for movies along with her friends which is appreciated by me and my husband. The difficult part is in understanding how my daughter and her friends spent the three hours at the theater. Her narrative of the film's story and of their group is jumbled up to the point that we almost lose track of who is who in the entire experience. So, after watching 'Welcome Back', my daughter took to narrating the story; in between trying to tell about herself and her friends. Till date, I neither felt the need to watch the same movie nor have I understood the movie; not because its confusing, but because I could make neither head nor tail of my daughter's narrative. One thing that I am happy and content about is the fact that I enjoyed the entire experience of watching movie through the eyes and perspective of a new generation.

Hey Deva !

Children are children and they manage to make you loving, jittery, angry, confused, moody, jovial etc, with the flick of a second. You are very loving and affectionate towards your baby when your baby is sleeping soundly. You are very proud and confident as a parent when your baby gets cajoled and coochie cooed by others. A sly smile or a toothless laughter evokes the greatest of joy in one and all. At other times, when your baby is sick and cranky, you are the most confused person trying out all remedies that you can think of. So no matter how many children you have or looked after, the situation is same for all - you are a bundle of emotions. Which emotion will unfold at what time, is all you can expect when it is least expected.

I had no different experience. One day, I had taken my seven year old daughter to 'Surya Mukhi Datta Mandir' near our house. I am not a very religious person, neither an atheist, but I enjoy being in a temple with its quiet and serene surrounding; the fragrance of incense stick; the ringing of bells and the chirping of birds on near by trees. I even enjoy talking to myself of all things I observe.

Holding my daughter's hand, I removed my foot wear, walked a few steps and together we stood in front of God, with our hands folded.

I said, "Hey Deva ! mala buddhi de, hatt karaichi nako, radaichi nako. (O God !  Bless me with knowledge, let me not be adamant; let me not crib). After my prayer, I turned to my daughter and instructed her to do the same. She promptly folded her hands and said, "Hey Deva majhya Aai la buddhi de, hatt karaichi nako, radaichi nako. (O God !  Bless my mother with knowledge, let her not be adamant; let her not crib).

The sudden turn of things, shocked and amused me. Together we burst out laughing.

Dear Daughter

A breath of fresh air;
So lovely and fair,
Bringing excitement and cheer,
for people near and dear,
Talking to others with care,
Playing games always with dare,
Likes drawing cats and girls,
Jumping in air with swirls,
Helping people in need;
Old people or kid,
Listening to elders and their advice;
Making goodies of their choice,
Giving company to mother - Ah! so divine,
I love you so much - O! daughter of mine.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars ..... I can't see you, you are so far !!

Busy correcting answer papers, I glimpsed at my daughter through my glasses; trying to understand what she was saying. “Oh Mom, would you please buy me a 'speckles'? Before I could even understand, my daughter showed me her eyes – fluttering her eye lashes vigorously. “Oh, you mean 'spectacles'?”, I tried to rectify her mistake. “Obviously ! Don't you think I will look smart?” was her enthusiastic reply. Hearing her verbal and non verbal communication, I could only agree with her, though I 'smartly' tried to evade any promises.

One week passed, again I was asked to fix an appointment with the doctor for getting 'speckles'. I corrected her and again and my daughter went on about smartness. So I tried to act doctor myself and asked her to count the electric wires or cable wires hanging from building to building. My daughter counted them perfectly and I counted them twice as much for I was not using glasses for my imperfect eyesight. “See, you have perfect vision ! You can count them correctly ! There is no need for spectacles.” was my decision.

Another week passed and while we were about to get ready for her rope gymnastics class, I found myself staring at my smiling daughter's mischievous face. “I want a speckles with just a frame”, said my daughter decidedly. I was left with no option but smile back at her and take her to the shop. The walk to the shop brought memories of me going to the doctor for an eye check up and my first day of adjusting to the glass; not to mention my unsuccessful attempts at using the contact lens. By the time, we noticed the shop, both of us were brimming with excitement and with light steps we opened the heavy door.

A quick discussion with the shop keeper and with some gadgets, he gave me his reading saying “your daughter has a minor power – 0.25”. My daughter's excitement knew no bounds. “See I told you, I must have spectacles.” The correct usage of the word had not escaped me. We immediately went to an 'eye' doctor who left the decision to us of either using the glasses or not. So finally we confirmed with the shopkeeper and placed an order for the glasses. The frame selection process was not very time consuming. My daughter was very clear about the frame and selected one perfectly smart one. I even suggested my husband to consult her for such matters.

“Come tomorrow at 7:30 pm to collect them”, said the shopkeeper. “Oh, I am not in a hurry, take your time; for if you don't give them tomorrow then I will have to answer so many of my daughter's questions”, I said, worried that any delay will add to me and my child's patience. “Don't worry, I will give you call to confirm the completion”, said the shopkeeper looking at my daughter's questioning face.

Next day, the shopkeeper indeed gave us a call and off we both went all excited about the new 'look' my young lady is to have. Putting on the glasses, my daughter gave me the biggest smile that showed all her non aligned teeth and her twinkling eyes that indeed showed me the stars which were after all not so far.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars ..... I can see you, though you are so far !!

I am as tall as my teacher !

"Hey ! Did you see the 'Bournvita Plus' advertisement ?" quipped Tina.

"Oh, not that one, you sure must stick to our favorite, 'Complan' added Rani.

I couldn't help but give my undivided attention to the conversation coming from the two sweet girls playing at the corner of the play ground. After all, who would want to miss out on a debate involving 'Milk - the complete food' and that too from the eyes of the kids themselves. But apart from the advertisement and the packaging, the next piece of conversation really impressed and amused me.

"Do you know, I am as tall as Sheetal teacher ?" said Rani to her best friend. Tina in the mean time was thinking of something better to add. And overhearing their conversation, I was surprised, for Sheetal teacher is quite tall with an impressive height of 5'7". My surprise led me back to these two, and I casually asked Rani who is just 4'1" tall, 'How come you are as tall as Sheetal teacher ?'

"Oh Aunty ! When Sheetal teacher sits in her chair and I stand near her for getting my notebook corrected, at that time I stand as tall as my teacher" pat came Rani's reply with an ear to ear smile.

The two ribbons

Ever wonder, where has the 'ribbon' word disappeared ? As a child during the eighties, I remember many girls my age, with black or white ribbons adorning their long oiled parted and plaited hair. On special occasions, all girls would be wearing colored satin ribbons.

The ribbon has shown quite some evolution. It started off with some cotton material which was quite broad and would get folded along the length of the ribbon. The next improvement came with the synthetic ribbons which are popular even today for their crease resistant property. For parties and birthdays, the satin ribbons proved to be a major attraction.

So no wonder that I loved to tie up my daughter's hair in two pony tails dangling in the air and the ribbons flying in the wind. Though, I must say that on returning from school, the picture would be reversed ie the ribbons dangling in the air and hair flying in the wind !

And do observe the face of the daughter, when her hair is getting tied, the slightest of hair pull, brings a frown upon the face and though satisfaction for the daughter is rare, any other person being preferred over the mother for doing the hair, is simply unheard of.

Such a pretty picture brought memories of my school days and the way my mother tied my hair. Though, the hands that tied the ribbons have changed, the bond between the two individuals still remains ever so strong. The elaborate ritual of oiling, parting, combing, plaiting and finally tying the hair with the ribbons is special to a mother daughter relation. The ribbon ties just not the hair, but also bonds the mother and daughter, together.

Resemblance

Most parents inadvertently want to hear that their child looks just like him or her. It goes without saying that even a one day old baby generates lot of talk on its resemblance to either the father or the mother. The baby shows many changes in the facial features and accordingly so do the views of others.

I was also a witness to this situation since the day my daughter arrived. Earlier, I felt happy to know that my daughter had taken after her father, but slowly, I started to long for someone telling me of the mother daughter similarity. I would dress up my daughter in lovely frocks and nice hair bands and beads and fancy shoes and so many other things; in return trying to find myself as a little girl, in my daughter.

Couple of years passed, my daughter dresses her dolls the same way that a mother would dress up her child. She has now started taking interest in drawing pictures of an 'all girl's band' and 'Hannah Montana'. Her ability at riding a two wheeled bicycle at the age of four really surprised us. She had the greatest gift of sweet talking her way through; she normally converses effortlessly with any person; old or young, shy or extrovert. With so much of personality asserting, our talk as parents shifted to what traits had our daughter inherited from which parent.

I remember an idle afternoon when again the topic of resemblance cropped up. This time I put my foot down to tell very clearly to my husband that my daughter resembled me although she looked like a father's daughter more. I went on to describe that her eyes were like mine and so on and so forth. My husband was in no mood to give up the argument. Looking at the two of us, my dear daughter pacified us both by her witty remark saying, "Oh, momma, I resemble Baba in face and I am just like you as a girl".

Listening to her very diplomatic reply, both of us burst out laughing. Hopefully, our arguments in this regard have been aptly put to rest. For more such arguments, I wish all the parents 'All the Best'.

I was worried about you !

Late, one evening, I decided to go to the internet cafe for chatting with my husband. The little rain and damp weather could not weather me down, and so I went with an umbrella in my hand. My daughter was playing with her friends in the garden and so I went alone. She had wanted to come with me for chatting with her Baba, but I thought it better to let her play than make her sit before a computer.

It took me one hour at the cafe. In the meantime, I figured out that my in laws would stay at home and my daughter would be back from her play and be safe in the warmth of the house and grand parents. This assumption proved to be wrong as I later realized.

With these thoughts in mind, I walked briskly at home. The rain had stopped and the weather was cool. I noticed the kids playing in the garden. I did not see my daughter, maybe she was somewhere nearby. I went upstairs and found our house locked. Strange ! Who would want to go out in this weather? Any way, I unlocked the door and went inside and switched on the TV. The same time, I kept a watch on the kids still playing. Still no sign of my daughter. Worried, I went down again. One boy informed me that my daughter was with them till five minutes ago. So we searched in the approaching darkness. He also added that he saw my mother in law going out all alone. So my daughter was not with her too. All this increased my anxiety. We called out to her friends where there was a dance practice going on. The search yielded nothing.

By this time, quite a few people had got worried. So all the kids did the most practical thing. They called out my daughter's name again and again. And there she was!

Running fast like a deer, she came to me and hugged me. I could see some tears in her eyes and so I held her tightly in my arms. She clung to me and whispered softly in my ears, "Oh! Where were you Mom, I was so worried about you !"

And then I heard her side of the story. After her play, my daughter had come looking for me in the cafe and because I was seated in a corner, she did not see me in the cafe and so went back and stood guard near the gate. Unfortunately, we did not see each other when I came through the gate and kept on worrying for the other. At that moment, I realized how deeply concerned we were for each other. It was not just a mother worrying for her daughter, the daughter was also worried about her mother.

My daughter suddenly looked so grown up and mature.

Little hearts, Bigger ideas !

"A clean slate is the best for writing and reading" And so is the child's mind for unraveling the original ideas. It is the reflection in its purest form, with no dust of streamlined thinking and no scratches of objective and subjective knowledge.

Its refreshing to know the ideas of a children. They see the world with their own view, they assess with their own understanding, they enjoy with their own enthusiasm; such is the beautiful world that it becomes difficult for them to comprehend an educated person's teaching.

It was on one such occasion of a mother daughter 'home work completion session' that I asked my daughter of a General Knowledge (GK) question from her book about God making whom as the most intelligent ? I had expected 'MAN' as the answer as per the writing or at the most hearing a joyous and mischievous 'ME' as the answer. But to my surprise, I heard 'GOD' as the prompt and straight forward reply. I was surprised and on giving it some thought, I realized that indeed, my daughter had said the right thing. God, if one believes in, is truly everything.

As a person, I do believe in a super power which I call as GOD. Although, I am not those religious kinds, I do have faith in the Almighty. Whether we follow the religious books or not, whether we tell ourselves of His existence, one thing that I am sure is that the universe is too big to comprehend and bringing uniformity in chaos and chaos in uniformity, does require His divine intervention. Trusting the intelligence and doing our duty unfailingly and with full dedication, benefits all and one.

Situations open your eyes and your mind and this incident of question answer session answered many questions unasked.

A bird in bush is two in hand !!

I am sure you find the saying not correct, but I have purposefully written it for a situation when I heard strange noises coming from the children's bedroom. They sounded like some animals quarelling or a new instrument playing or most probably a new mobile ringtone. With a perplexed mind, I went to see if my daughter was upto some prank or enjoying somebody else's prank.




And there she was making some interesting noises and looking out of the window; window which overlooked the potted plants and a beautiful garden of lush green lawn and a very serene marble temple. Curious, I went to her to enquire about the significance of these beating of vocal chords. I was happily given an answer that this was for the purpose of calling out so many birds to come and sit on the window sill and talk to her. And for inviting these birds, she was making so many types of noises.




This was quite a revelation to me. I had never thought of inviting birds by calling out to them near a window. And the stranger thing was yet to come. In one of the potted plants stood one paper parrot that my child had made in her craft class. She was using this piece of art as a bait to attract birds and sit on the window sill and to make the effect of bird, authentic, she was making noises imitating all possible varieties of birds !



So much planning done for the sole purpose of having a birdie friend. It made me wonder about the original English proverb of having a bird in hand is equal to two in the bush. We tend to forget what we have and start looking at something which is indeed there but has its own freedom too! At times, we should be only admiring the freedom of such beings and appreciate the fact that happiness comes from feeling free. Take away the freedom and we are faced with sadness and suffocation.



Things in nature are to be admired not desired.



And here is my daughter, trying to befriend her nature friends by using an artificial bird and noises to have one such bird and coming and singing with her. Indeed, the purpose of this activity is having a bird friend and not owning it.



My child is also like a bird, having the freedom to choose and express her thoughts and the best that I can do as a parent is only admire and respect her way of expressing her feelings and not strangle them.

The day I was born…..

The day I was born…..



Many a soul have wondered on this thought when they reminiscise about themselves, their achievements, their childhood……the list can be endless. So many wonder ‘I am so lucky…..’ , ‘The world is so lucky….’; even I have had this thought on all my daughter’s birthdays.



I still vividly remember the pain that started around three in the early morning, the LABOUR pain. I had been so worried about being able to recognize pain as labour pain, and there it was!! No woman would have any doubts about this pain being the one. And there I was, in so much hurry to go to the hospital! At that time, there was only one thought, “once I am in the hospital, my pain will be more manageable and my baby will come to me. So lets hurry to the hospital”. And needless to say, don’t ever argue with a woman in such a situation. My dad, one of those peculiar dads, the ones who get worried but don’t know what to do; started cleaning the car at four in the morning. Till then, my mother and mother in law were discussing about the frequency of contractions. Here I was in pain and all my dear ones were irritating me further.



At last! We reached the hospital and the room and I was hopeful of seeing my baby quickly, but then the doctor too had her say about the time and all I could do was remember the advice of others and the books and keep my cool.



Luckily for me, my pain ended at about 8 in the morning when I saw my daughter and heard her sigh. But what worried me was that she was not crying. Don’t they show in all held her upside down and patted her back, but no sound. Then it started, music to my ears and relief to the doctor. I think the first cry of the baby is the best, later on it turns to jazz.



Six years passed, with every year showing a different side to my daughter. Her father is completely in her hands. That must be true for all fathers. My parents have always been there for me and my sister, no matter what reason and season.



I took up a job and my in laws are always there for my daughter to hold her, to wipe away her tears, to tell her a story, to hear her stories and talks, to see her dance, to teach her, to show her the rainbow, to let her play in the rain and so many things that only a child can make the grand parents take to becoming a child once again.



A few days back, when my daughter came home after playtime, I went to her with the apple in my hand so that she would be happy. But what !! the daughter I knew, who was me, myself, suddenly and rudely turned me away. I retreated without a word with hurt in my eyes quite visible. My daughter immediately saw my reaction to her action and felt so bad at having done this to me. She came running behind me and pleaded with me with different valid reasons, her apologies all brimming and bursting from the corner of her eyes. I was distraught myself and my hurt too was about to spill over. We both hugged each other and held each other close. All hurt and remorse was washed away. I was so happy that my daughter had shown such courage and understanding to accept her bad behavior and realize her mistake and also to make her mother understand her.



We both became ‘friends’ again.



The incident made me realize that cutting the umbilical cord does not separate the mother and the baby; the bonding still remains; what is it then that separates the two?



It is the longing for individuality.



A mother who brings and nurtures a child in this world, a father who provides a shade for the child to grow till he is ready to face the sunlight, grand parents who provide the necessary water and rainbows; and friends who make you stand taller and more confident; all contribute to the building up of a personality.



I am so happy to see us all together and together we see a child becoming an individual.



Well, ‘the day I was born….’ is not the day that my mother gave birth to me; it is not the day that I gave birth to my daughter; it is the day that I see my daughter becoming more independent, more mature, more caring, more understanding and above all; moving from a daughter to an individual. It is so beautiful and joyful to see your baby grow. Your baby who was you, yourself, a part of you and the love you share with your better half.