“Mumma, are you ok? Are you ok?”
That’s the question that makes my day. The last few weeks have been busy, and I have been a little preoccupied with some recurring existential questions. But the one thing that breaks through the fog is Miki asking me this question. His concern, his care, his love works like magic, and all the worries disappear!
My little Gundi, Riki, on the other hand, has a different kind of magic. It lies in her infectious smile, in her loud, insistent call, “Mumma, Mumma, Mumma!” and her tiny kisses. She is a bustling busybody, always flitting from one activity to the other. Learning to speak, she copies her Dada to the T, while showering him with incessant ‘ador’.
Riki is very observant as well. She knows I drink juice from a certain type of glass, and whenever she sees me carry it, she will say, “Juice! Juice!” And I must give her a sip.
One day, I was carrying two such glasses, and when caught, I thought, “Well, I will give her a sip from one of them only.”
But no, she won’t have it. She insisted on taking a sip from the other one too. She knew it had to have some juice in them and not water.
Similarly, every day, she opens a drawer, takes out one of my purses, pulls the sling across a tiny arm, and says, “Bye!” With a jaunty wave, she goes out of the bedroom and toddles till the main door.
“Are you going out?” I ask.
“Yes!” She nods. “Open!” She points to the main door.
We run up and down the corridor, sometimes holding hands, sometimes chasing each other, sometimes I just watch her, overwhelmed with awe for the tiny miracle that she is.
She knows when she is naughty, especially when she loiters near the medical cupboard.
“No! Don’t touch!”
One door opens.
“Aeee! I said, don’t open! It’s not for playing!”
Two eyes stare unblinking at me! Next, the second door is ajar.
I shift my stance. The doors are slammed shut. Riki rushes towards me and kisses wildly all over.
She is a clever charmer! Too, too hard to control, distract, or discipline. God bless her and us!
Her Dada, meanwhile, has grown up in the past few months. He speaks so much more. He creates so many stories. He talks at length on his phone (plastic one) with imaginary friends, or school friends, in an imaginary language. He cues into most adult conversations, wherein he is mentioned and responds with sharp queries (it is so hard to keep secrets from him when he is around). A moment that is etched into my mind is when I was baking a cake for our helper’s birthday.
“Mama, is it difficult?” Miki asked, when he heard some loud sounds in the kitchen.
“Huh?” I responded, absent-mindedly.
“Mama, is it difficult?”
“No, it’s ok.”
“Ok, then I won’t come to help.”
And I almost collapsed in shock and with pride.
During my parents’ visit in September, he started playing with magnetic tiles, creating houses for all his friends, including animals, cars and family. One evening, I was simply relaxing on the sofa, watching making one his masterpieces. It was a long flat road, with side walls, and some rooms at the end.
“Mama, wait, wait, I am making a room for you.”
“For me?
“Yes, also in the kitchen, I am cooking.”
“You are cooking?”
“Yes, for the guests. They will come from this side, and sit here. Then we will serve food here.”
“Guests?”
“Guests, yes! Uncles and aunties, all coming, to meet Riki and Miki! Yes? Yes?” He looked at me, full of excitement.
“Yes, and you will cook or Mama will cook?”
“I will cook. Mama rest.”
Speechless, I just gaped at him.
Behind me, at the dinner table, there was pin-drop silence. My parents and Rahul had heard the entire conversation and were bowled over. Without our knowledge, this little one has observed so much for the few occasions we have had some friends over. I pray daily that he continues to grow with such panache all life!
Despite all the stress, the hours spent trying to cope with loud cries and tears, zidd, emotional and physical demands, brain fogs, and unending tiredness – for it cannot be all rosy, can it? – we are grateful that we experience such amazing moments with them, such as Riki’s quiet cooperation during the Kanya Pujas in various households, Miki’s mischievous look while taking an extra bit of his ‘something’ (a sweet dish – cake, laddoo, chocolate ganache etc.) during lunch instead of his food, Riki’s fearless confidence during a family ramp walk in our annual Bong get-together, and many more such innumerable little gestures, words, and love that they shower on us daily.
Life comes full circle. I remember nights as a young girl and even recently, sleeping next to my father, his palm under my cheek.
Last night, as I scrolled my phone in bed, Miki rolled over in his sleep, and his palm touched my cheek and remained there.
I froze. Snapped my phone cover shut, and eased into the warm caress. I can still feel his touch. I can still hear his breath.
I can still feel his presence.
That’s the world I live in.
Now.
Miki’s and Riki’s world.
Their laughter, their tears, their demands, their love, their chatter, their silence – all that encompasses them, encompasses me. The world I live in.
Gratitude. Blessed. Indebted.
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