My darling November girl,
This is your birthday month and this year you’ll be a big girl of 3! Every day with you is an adventure but this month started with an emotional roller coaster none of us had anticipated. You’re growing up faster, much faster, than we can allow ourselves to accept. The real stunner though is the rare maturity I see in you. This anecdote, hence, had to be noted for posterity.
The day before, Papa had a particularly rough day at work and came home in a sullen mood. He was on a call when he entered home and went straight to the bedroom without as much as a ‘Hi’ to any of us. That call was an important one and went on for almost half an hour during which you interrupted him at least a dozen times for a glass of juice that was kept in the refrigerator.
Mind you, I had already refused you twice. It was dinner time and a glass of juice would surely spoil your appetite. He tried his best to pacify you, excusing him repeatedly during the call, but you would have none of it. I commend the man for his calm demeanour but once in a while his fuse goes off too! As soon as his call was over he politely warned you in a decibel faintly higher than the one he normally uses with you.
That was it. You bawled piercingly like you do every time you are denied anything, anywhere. All of us knew this was totally uncalled for and you needed to get over your baseless demand for your own good. Not wanting to encourage this tantrum we chose to ignore you and proceed with our dinner giving you time to stop crying on your own, which you did. You ate and stuck to me but kept away from Papa after that, much to his shock and dismay.
After much deliberation you finished your before-bed milk. However, it all came to a head when by bedtime you started heating up. I never give you medicines hastily and decided to wait till morning for a dose. You twisted and turned in your sleep all night and didn’t get an hour’s decent sleep. By next morning your fever had shot up. In retrospect, I had taken a wrong judgement call.
Anyway, despite a morning and afternoon dose your body was still warm the next day. You vomited twice and understandably were a meek shadow of your usual exuberant self. Something told me this was a purely psychosomatic issue and I sweetly made you talk to me about it. Your answer gave me and Papa a jolt (when I told him later), “Papa ne gussa kiya. Mujhe kyun gussa kiya? ”
I was speechless! I forced a smile and assured you that he loves you a lot, which he surely does. Doesn’t he buy gifts and chocolates for you, take you for outings every weekend, cuddle up with you in bed and tell you stories everyday? He was angry, yes, but with the Uncle on the phone. He didn’t mean to scold you.
You weren’t entirely convinced. I then called him and asked him to bring your favourite jalebi to make it up to you. I must confess it was hilarious when he got home and you kept away from him but kept looking at him through the corner of your eye. Soon enough you two hugged each other tightly which was touching like Bharat Milaap, no less. You fed each other, laughed merrily and your temperature miraculously came down in no time. I felt sidelined, I accept. 😦
Daughters have the biggest piece of their Dad’s heart. I know it and now see it everyday with both of you. The first time Papa looked at you, sleeping peacefully in the crib, the mush in his eyes was something I had never seen before. I knew my days were gone. You bug him, dominate him and command his attention and he still does everything for you, happily. This might sound superbly superstitious, still, “Tumko kabhi kisiki nazar na lage!” ❤ ❤ ❤