I was never
a baby person. I mean I didn’t hate kids… well the spoilt brats who threw a strop
would irritate me.. But I enjoyed them from a distance. Purely because I was
fearful of dropping them!! Or breaking them! Or other such dark and scary
thoughts!!! Hey give me a break … I’m
accident prone… I walk into walls!!!
The transition
first came, when my masi put my baby brother into my arms… life has never been
the same since.
Maybe I should
go backwards… my youngest niece is fast asleep in my bed with her mother. All of
two, the pure joy and happiness it brings to me of knowing they are safe and
happily asleep inspires me to write again… what I write... I never know. So how
would you... How this ends remains a mystery till the end.
Before that
there has been almost two decades of young ones... and every moment around them
has been moments of sheer bliss... There have been fights and tantrums.. Laughter
and hysterics too.. Nappy changes and movie nights... Angst, frustration and
gladness they were not mine to deal with 24x7… but despite all that there has
been complete and utter joy.
There is
heart ache in knowing Iona and Isabella better... Especially when meetings are
sporadic and it’s a social demand to say hello to their masi who they don’t know
but there is time yet to build those bonds.
And that
comes from hope of the bonds I do have... the moments of time spent together,
fleeting some... but enough to register in their hearts (I hope!) and mine!
I feel old…
my eldest... How I love the way I say “mine” is 18 now... I remember her in her
mommies tummy... is the most gorgeous young lady ever. The young lad in the
midst who really sets me straight and makes me laugh... but most of all reminds
me of myself in so many ways… especially when pushed to give a proper hug!!! And
then come the tweens... Zoya who carries my mother’s soul on her tiny shoulders
and Nayantara with her mother’s endearing giving nature of pure love for all.
Abhay with his gorgeous dimples and just happy happy engulfing being.. Like his
grandparents and parents and aunt and uncle before him…. And then there is Tara…
sweet sweet Tara Para… full of mischief and yet so accepting of all around her.
Each deserves
their own stories, but tonight, it’s about me. Not being sexist but my brothers
still haven’t made me a bua... but on some level I know this… being a masi is a
whole different ball game... for sisterhood has been the greatest role in my
life (a whole battalion of big sisters ! yes Vasundhara I haven’t forgotten you…
there is huge pride in being your big sister too!) beyond my mother and bua and
chachis and thai and masi,s and godmothers , the male equivalent has been the
sane sorted normal ones to look up to and unto and on occasion fear! And thus
maybe the joy found in being an aunt!!
When my nieces
tell me I look beautiful I believe them... Because they also tell me I’m fat
and many wet kisses follow... lol! When my nieces give me beaming smiles and
crawl all over me, I growl but let them, because no matter what the love of a
child is pure... No pretenses. No hard feelings… no baggage.. Just
unadulterated love.
If I could
wish upon a falling star right now, I would wish for only one thing… let the innocence
of the blessed children never change and let me always be the recipient of that
impulsive hug and pure joy in their eyes!
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