Childhood, a bliss!

What a blithesome morning it was! When we, the parents woke up our elder child this morning planting the two morn kisses, one on each cheek and wished her a wonderful children's day, the cherubs in us took our being. Our other bundle of joy who was lost in sweet dreams stretched and bestirred herself on the first sound of her sister's giggle. So on a rainy Friday morning at 7 o'clock , just before the father was to leave for work, there ensued a ball in the room. With the 'abhi to party shuru hui hai' music just a tap away, the quartet began frolic. The silent, cozy, snug room turned into a vibrant, peppy, perky leeway. Within five minutes the family was all charged up. The kids were in a tizzy thinking a vacation had begun.We were brought back to senses when the cooker whistled in the kitchen. Yes, the porridge that was kept to simmer had cooked to boil, indeed demanding my culinary skills! In a flash, with exchange of hugs and kisses the children's father took his leave for office, ready to battle the horrid traffic on the way. With the hustle and bustle followed by some incessant respiring the schoolgirl boarded her van. No, it wasn't a holiday but some fun day in school.


While massaging my younger one as I prepped her for bath, my mind wandered and I tried to recall how we celebrated the day at school. Children's day was always the most awaited event in schools. I remember on one such occasion, the teachers had enacted a play and entertained our lot. Those childhood days! Dancing in the rains, splashing on the puddles. Ready for school in the neatly ironed uniform with two 'jhoola' plaits ribboned into a bow. Hopping on to the fuel tank of the motorcycle or sitting on the pillion seat of the scooter, clenching papa's shirt tight, sometimes even hurting him when he would drop me to school. Leaving one clenched fist to wave bye bye to the school friend (who would be right at the adjacent seat, the whole day in school), leaning out of the autoriksha with more children than air to breathe. Saving the pocket money to buy the chips, 'churan', 'aam papad', 'disco ice cream' at the school gate. Long vacation plans during summers with no sleep in the eyes for the afternoon siesta. Surrounding the granny to hear a long bed time story, repeated every night. The 'gali cricket' with everyone wanting to bat and none ready to ball. The 'stappu' chalked on a cemented ground with a constant search for the flattest of stones to mark a good throw. The grumpy look on the face for the entire period Mom would oil my hair. The fancy dress competitions in school with children clad as a postbox, softy, star, pineapple or the like. The 'Doordarshan' telecasting 'Surabhi', 'Jungle Book', 'Potli Baba Ki', 'Shaktiman', 'Byom Kesh Bakshi', 'Ramayana' or 'Mahabharata'. The Onida advertisement marking "Owner's Pride, Neighbour's Envy". The morning blues of gulping the 'chyavanprash' with the hot milk. Those were the carefree days! Being a child, always felt so special! Living it with one's children again is a bliss! 

My joy knew no bounds when the doorbell rang and I received the courier of the online gifts I had purchased for the lassies. One day delivery guaranteed! Such is the felicity. The presents pampered the children and kept them busy till the evening. Then there was this pleasant surprise. The father arrived home early and took us all out for dinner at our favourite hangout. What a day to live our childhood again! 

Being mother to two daughters

This has happened often when I hear moms who have only male child or children very gaily pine over the fact that they so much wanted to mother a daughter. Oxymoron it is! No, not the fact that they long for the opposite gender, but oxymoron in their pining gaily! Indeed, the facts prove that their family has always had a great desire for a male child, which is also evident in the acts of the parents. Whatever be the reason, whether they feel the older generation in the family will be satisfied with a male offspring or whether they silently themselves feel that their son would light the fire in their funeral and bid them adieu to their heavenly abodes, which I believe is a myth! They know it very well that growing old and living with their son's family would not be feasible with the changing times. They're quite well aware of how much they live with their in laws! 

Then why this pining! And why this constant comparison of their son's progress with the other's daughter's? Why this constant yearning that girls have such chromatic dresses and embellishments? For a mother's love which is so divine and unconditional, should the gender be a bias? If any of these moms have this latent thought that the mothers who have daughters appreciate their so called love for girls which is dying to ooze out but lacks opportunity, they be very respectfully told that's not the case. My experience has gone to the extreme when recently I heard a Mom of two sons say that how she wished God could have given her one daughter and me one son instead of two daughters!! My impulsive reaction was to punch her hard on the face! But my upbringing got the best of me. Why on earth did this lady ever imagine I would be happy to hear her loose statement. Then there was this other mom who said that two daughters are far better than having two sons. My simple question is why, why at all should one go in for a second child with any gender prejudice!

There had been umpteen times when I was ear to such nonsensical talks. When my second child was still inside me, yet to be born, mothers would ask or comment, "must be wishing for a son this time, you already have a daughter!". My answer had always been the same, "I wish for a healthy baby with a healthy mother. There's no gender bias." This was not a statement which just meant them to keep shut. Indeed, this was what we, my spouse and I firmly believed. Our decision to parent a second child was very carefully considered. We wanted to bring another love of our lives into this lovely world and share our love equally between our loves. There was no gender bias for all we wished was a hale and hearty baby with a healthy mother to mother it. Apparently we had chosen two names one male and one female for the born to be. 

Besides this group of parents around me, I am fortunate also to have a group of such mothers who have never gaily mourned over the fact that they have sons but no daughters. They're raising their children as humans not as males or females. And how well groomed are they at such a toddler age! My friends have very well mannered sons who run, play, sing, dance, colour, decorate, recite, obey and discover constantly as a child. Believe me, it's not in the child's mind at all that he or she belongs to a particular gender group until the parents sow the seeds. Humanity is so pure, unsullied, untarnished in children. It's only parents who tend to rot it. The child is the best teacher!

An autobiography

How my bones were casted and framed, I know not. How I developed a flowered, starred, teddy printed pink skin, am clueless. I was packed in a carton and delivered to a house in Dehradun, sometime in the mid of May, 2010. That's when I believe I took birth and ended my journey from the manufactory to my abode. As is prevalent in the house of the new born, I was elated to see the agog chaos in the house. Little did I realise that all the excitement was on the birth of my master who was just about two weeks older than me. She was the princess of the house and I was to aid her. How many lives are blessed enough to realise the purpose of their being no sooner than their birth! Indeed, I was. Thus, my elation stood justified.

Days passed, and then weeks. But my master didn't even touch me. I started feeling low. Was I forbidden? I was cleaned spick n span regularly, which meant I was adored, yet I had not got to even have a glimpse of the princess. Verily, for no fault of mine! It was human habitude to keep cuddling their new borns and not let them rest on a perambulator. That's what I am, a pram, a baby carriage. The parents, the grandparents, the aunts, the uncles, all kept embracing the new born while I waited for my turn. I waited on and on until the baby turned at least a quarter year old. And then, one fine day the Gods seemed to be pleased. My prayers were answered and I was padded with a clown faced pillow, some colourful rattles and a nice cozy blanket. The princess obliged me for the first time. There she lied on me snuggled in my arms, in a deep sleep filled with sweet dreams. That day I was christened!

I was on a roll now. Soon, it was time for a long journey. I was packed and stowed for my first trip. Lying alongside other luggage, I could see nothing in the dark cargo that took me from Dun to Bangalore. Some pushes and nudges later I reached my home, where the princess and I arrived for the first time in our lives. This was such a chromatic place! My room, the princess'  room to be precise, was filled with such bright, attractive toys. The walls were adorned with amazing baby pictures. Father had decorated our room exquisitely to welcome us home.

Every evening I strolled around the patio and the foyer. Grannies, mothers and kids would swarm around me to adore the one I carried. Sometimes dads too contributed a whistle or a rattle.  There were times when the eager beaver mother pushed me all the way to the grocery store, to return with the baby in my arms and the lock stock and barrel stowed over my entire self. Those were the testing times! Times when I had to prove my mettle. As I reached my youth, I was made to accord the baby's sitting position. Thus, I flaunted my damsel curves! Soon the princess started toddling. She developed an antipathy for me. There were new, more adorable, ingenious devices that led the race while I was left far behind. Occupying one corner of the room, I turned out to be a liability and was soon packed and stowed in the loft. Alas! My old age was round the corner when I thought of flaunting my youthful wings. 

I thought my life was over. The loft seemed to be my grave and all the bubble wraps along with the carton appeared a coffin. I laid there for nearly four years. It was a really long time the Gods took to decide I was fit for heaven or hell. And finally it was heaven on earth! The family was blessed with the younger princess and I got the priceless jewel to adore. I was wiped, cleaned and sunned. Life is full of such pleasant surprises! 

My second innings kept me on my toes from the start. Perhaps the parents had matured. They would use me often and ventured out places with the baby cradled in me. On one such occasion, we holidayed in the hills. The live concert in the resort on a chilly evening by the fireplace titillated my entire being. Age was definitely not a factor in youth! Romance was surely in the air, for Mom and Dad grew nostalgic recollecting their old times spent together as love birds. I was witness to this reminiscence, realising for the first time in my life where the love in the family bloomed. A feeling that would make me stay forever young and keep serving the babies of the house. Amen!