We moved to a bigger room last week. The extra space, to be honest, is too much luxury to handle. The bathroom is aerated which means my chance of being asphyxiated to death while hand-washing the clothes is a big zero. Yay!!
As usual, I am traipsing around baby D who hastily climbs up and down the staircase as if he is late for his job interview once again. Amidst all the monotony, I subconsciously espy the world around. The marble patches of our staircase and smooth texture of its handrails, the pattern of silence and rhythm of footsteps at ungodly hours, the rooms that emanate whiffs of smoke and those that do not, the rooms that Swiggy their food and the ones that fry Seer fish, I know them all by heart. Right now, my brain is full of irrelevant information that I don’t really have any space left for boring relevant information. Yesterday while I was porking out on plantain chips, the husband demanded a rough summary of this month’s grocery expenses and all I could do was to let out a polite burp.
I feel like my hormones have been jolted out of whack by the monthly break-in. Sleep, the universal placebo works for me. But I dare not to close my eyes for two seconds straight and get them finger-drilled by baby D who is tolerant to anything except me fantasizing a nap.
Life isn’t bad as it used to be. I met an interesting woman downstairs last week. What do you know, in the next few minutes that followed we began discussing life, love, politics, basically everything under the sun over a cup of tea. As a matter of fact, she is also a Libran who shares her birthday with one of my best friends. If there is one reason why I’d like to stick to this accommodation any longer, it’s only because she lives here.
Saving the best for the last. Baby D celebrated his second birthday this week. I don’t know why everyone says their kid grows up in the blink of an eye. Mine doesn’t. Perhaps, it could be because I spend way too much time with him. I blink and he continues peeing on the floor. These days, when people bring in words like ‘day care’, ‘uniform’, ‘high time’, ‘potty-training’, ‘speech delay’, ‘no phones’ and ‘pre-kg syllabus’ (not kidding) into our conversation, I die a little inside. The definition of “perfect child”, according to me, is nothing but a mercurial flim-flam. I strongly hope I’d adhere to this belief, enrich the little ones’ environment with encouragement and love, remain happy, benevolent and grateful throughout this journey no matter how inadequate the child seems to be in the world’s eyes.
Cheers to this year and the blessed years beyond!!!