Aru... being more me than mine!
He came at a time when one was heading towards vacuity ? beyond living and loving. Especially the latter. But there he was, reviving both ?waking up with a disarming smile and then going on intoning a thousand ?mummies? all through the day. The pleasure was always mine.Updated: Jun 16, 2006 00:20 IST
He came at a time when one was heading towards vacuity — beyond living and loving. Especially the latter. But there he was, reviving both –waking up with a disarming smile and then going on intoning a thousand ‘mummies’ all through the day. The pleasure was always mine.
He made me love again — a term which in the past left me high and dry, developing in the process a kind of ennui against the thing, whenever such a possibility knocked at my doors.
But Aru came as a whiff of fresh air. Born on December 18, 2002 — a pre-mature baby and my bundle of bhoy (fear in Bengali))—it was love at first sight. I remember how petrified I was picking him up in my arms the first time. The fear of dropping him made my feet freeze. The fun of it all came to me by and by, bringing waves of hitherto unknown joys in my life.
Nothing exclusive; I know it is the same story with most parents. But still!
It was surprises galore — in his gamboling around, sweet nothings. Nothing for instance has been able to dissuade him from uttering peapock even today. He sort of so much believes in it, making me wonder if the word could ever be the same for me— sure signs of love in the air.
His tantrums grew along with him. While he would have us eating out of his hand, it was the other way round so far as he was concerned. Every time one approached him with food, he would close his eyes, hoping for some providential intervention. As if whatever was happening would not happen and everybody would go away just like that.
Being the only child, one could, however, feel his loneliness – largely confined to home with nobody really there to play with him. Will you play with me? The question almost always hit me like a javelin. Yet, my wife and me have never been able to come up to his expectation. What can be a better example of the price nuclear or single-child families (in our case, we were both) pay to remain that way.
But Aru never seems to complain. He is busy doing his own things – with his blocks, range of cars (now resembling more like the accidented ones you see dumped in police stations), Cartoon Network and aminals, as he prefers to call them. But one does feel his loneliness when one sees him blissfully busy playing, even after all his invites to join him have found no takers. That makes him such an extraordinary child in his parents’ eyes.
Life, I know, is so full of uncertainties (glorious and otherwise) and Aru’s journey has just begun. Looks like only till yesterday, he needed a helping hand for virtually everything. Today, he insists on doing things all by himself. He has, in fact, started doing a whole lot of things himself, with the exception of doing you know what, at all wrong places. And this extended potty time worries his mother no end. The kid is simply not growing up, she would exclaim in her unnecessary urgency to see her son do all things well and proper.
As his father, I know my worries too, howsoever asinine they may be, will never be over. That is how it was yesterday, today. May be more tomorrow. But there is so much Aru gives – by riding piggy-back, by his never-ending antics. By being more me than mine.
First Published: Jun 16, 2006 00:20 IST