Through the eyes of a 6 month old...

I was walking by, in the market when I saw a mother carrying her six month old baby in her arms. Eyes wide open, the poor thing was staring at almost everything. I smiled. “Welcome to the world, chhotu”, I thought. And that thought was a catalyst to a series of thoughts that made me write this article. So here’s an interesting account of what possibly could be going on in the mind of those speechless angels and what it is possibly like to be a six month old. So here you go. The world through the eyes of a six month old.




Ok. I hate it when she scrubs my face like that. One she has removed all my clothes and put me in this tub filled with warm water and when she sees me crying the scrubbing becomes more vigorous and quick. Can’t she tell that I don’t like it? Since like six months now? Every morning I cry but she never forgets to just submerge me in this soapy water. Now, in few minutes another old lady will come and pick me up in her arms and wipe me away with that soft towel of mine. I like her. Cos she’s the only one who knows I don’t like it. But I don’t understand why she gets late every time. Can’t she just come like few minutes early and save me from this ordeal? Hmmm…
Oh here she is. My saviour with a beatific smile. Thank God!

Five minutes later.

Ok this is fun. This lady who scrubs me everyday also massages my body after the water dip. The sunrays filter through the windows and fall directly on my forehead, arms and legs and she comes with a liquid which is massaged all over me. And then I am left naked for some time. While she massages me she makes weird sounds. “Ma-ma, ma- ma, baby mama” That’s all she keeps repeating. Does she want me to repeat that? Cos the other day you know, when I hummed a bit? The whole house went on frenzy. This “mama” lady shrieked. With joy I guess and I was surrounded by a lot of people peering down at me. One was the same old lady in saree and there was another old man, who generally stays with her all the time. It was fun to get so much attention, I tell you. And everybody was making those queer sounds , “awww” and ma-ma lady kept on saying, “Baby say ma-ma, ma-ma” but then I was not in the mood to repeat, you see.
Well that was that. Today again she’s trying her luck. Haha, but I am not impressed at all. Let me find an opportune moment to hum a bit. Let’s see how they behave then.

Fifteen minutes later.

Well I am all dressed right now. And mama is trying to force this steel object filled with food into my mouth. Like I said when she comes to know I don’t like some thing she forces it on me. When I grow up, I’ll tell her it is not a good thing to do. Till then I pray that saree lady comes and rescues me.

Half hour later.

Ok. I think we are going somewhere. Hmm.. Mama looks dressed and oooh… shes peering down at me. Man, she looks so different. Her face looks changed. They haven’t taught me colours as yet, so I can’t give you those details. Now come on you are expecting a little too much from a six month old. Aren’t you?

Fifteen minutes later.

Yeah. Didn’t I tell you we are going? Here I am strapped in a seat of a big car which mama’s driving. She has rolled up the windows so I can only hear the faint noise of traffic. There are these big cars and buses looking down at me. Mama is more scared than I am. Oh she has switched on that nice box in front of me which speaks in different sounds. Mama is humming too. I think this box asks her to repeat things after it. Haha, just that it is musical with blue and red lights flickering up and down. Interesting. Ok let me play with it a bit. Talk to you later.

Half an hour later.

Whoops. She just lifted me in her arms. Man. I dozed off while listening to that musical box cos I feel so zapped right now.. Ooh. I am perched on her left arm looking over her shoulder. There are people all around. We just passed two men looking at mama. Do they know her? If yes, why didn’t she say hi? Never mind. I’ll ask her this when I grow up. There are quite a few who look at her. Wonder why?
Oh look! There are these ladies walking just behind us. They are looking at me I am sure. The shorter one is touching my pinky. Now what does she want? Ok, she’s making me feel shy. Oh look at them, they are laughing at my shy smile. What was so funny? And my God! I don’t believe it! Mama is smiling back a them. Not good, I say.

Ten minutes later.

We have entered a big room through huge ornamented doors.Inside it’s very shiny with big lights everywhere. Mama is peering at some thing that is put behind the glass. There are many of them. Of different colours. I have seen them on almost everybody. They wear it on their wrist. All of them. (How boring! I’ll tie it on my neck when I grow up).And they keep looking at it many times a day. I wonder why? And this thing also hangs on the walls of our house. Here I see so many of them hanging all around us. Mama is talking very animatedly with this old guy at the counter. I think they know each other well. Surely better than guys staring at her on the road. She is pointing at the huge black one behind the glass. They are packing it for her as she hands them a small card. Is she inviting this old man home?

Ten minutes later.

I am back again perched on her left arm. A packet hanging on her right arm. Mama is humming. She looks happy. Hmm.. let me smile a bit. Awww… she just kissed me on my cheek. I like her. A lot. Wait a minute, she just entered in another big room with lot of tables and chairs and look how every man inside is guiding her to the table in the centre of the room. Now can’t she see it? Weird people! Ok. I am placed on a small chair with a wooden plank flipped shut in front of me. Mama got me a toy here. So sweet. She’s looking at the same thing on her wrist and then towards the door. I think she’s waiting for some one. Let me play a while.

Fifteen minutes later.

Look at that! While I was playing some one came in and mama got up. I can’t see his face. They are hugging each other. Hmm. Mama handed him the gift she just bought and he kissed her back and slid a shiny thing on her finger. The one just next to the pinky? She looks so happy and surprised. Oh she kisses him back. Is it some kissing competition? And hello who are you?
Finally, he turns around. Oh! He’s the same guy who shares my room with mama. I see him everyday, every morning. At times even he asks me to mumble “Pa-pa, pa-pa” Wonder what’s wrong with the two. Hey! wait a minute, he’s reaching out to grab me from the chair and Oh he flings me up in the air! That freaks me out! Oh my God! I don’t like it much.. Now don’t complain that I peed on your pants. “Eh pa-pa! Oops, I just mumbled that and look! Look at them! They are going hysterical with surprise. Ready to jump with joy. Kids, I tell you!

I See You !

I see you
In the flicker of the flame
Reflecting the purity of your passion

In the bubbles of soap water
Popping out like your promises around me

In the colours of the butterfly
Resembling the shades of your dreams

In the taut strings of the guitar
Speaking of discipline of your being

In the hem of my dress
Holding on to till the very end

In the little finger that holds my thumb
With the same trust that you once held

The Wake

My friends raise eye brows, my parents have given up explaining the negative effects, my cousins pray I don’t share the room with them, my aunt complains and my brain does funny things in the morning (ok that’s an exaggeration) when I once again commit the crime of sleeping late. Sleeping late by my standards is like 4:00 in the morning when I can hear the early birds chirping in the summer months (n still sleeping in winters) and when I know that I have exactly three and a half hours to get my ass off the bed and start the day with a jarring morning (which smoothens out as I sip coffee in office). Yes, the morning shower jolts me into reality and I am ready in no time all prim and proper with sparkling eyes but there are times when I have to try my best to stifle the yawns, specially when my boss extends my job list and I know I have a long day ahead. But that doesn’t stop me from keeping awake the same night. May be I’ll sleep earlier, lets say 1:00 am.. But never before that. And how I look forward for weekends when my mornings roll into afternoons and I open my eyes to the mouthwatering whiff wafting through the kitchen and I know its time I get up !
I don’t really think its insomnia. (Did you know- 64 million Americans suffer from insomnia and women are 1.4 times more likely to suffer from it than men. Why? I mean is that even a question? Really? Haha..) But yes over the years I have developed this habit of staying up late. Whether it was because of studying well into the night and getting up late during preps before board examination or reading away novels at night and waking up giggling with cousins during vacations, staying up late has become a part of me. (Unless, of course, I am traveling or sick tired.) I have often tried to go off to sleep on time. And I admit that if I want to I will go to sleep at around 10-11pm. But then I think at night I get the best of me. All new ideas, new thoughts would come up. I will suddenly remember something important and pull out my laptop and I start typing vigorously. All my poems happen at night. Very few may be 1% during day time. For me the quiet of the night gives me time to think and write my thoughts. I unleash myself. Few of my nocturnal friends also experience the same effect. Shane comes up with new songs and music on his guitar, Aditi plans her next tour plan, Mahesh cooks up another article for his magazine. So it actually works for few people. Does it work for you?
Its also the time to watch some great stuff on TV. This article in HT specially drew my attention today in which Nivriti Bhutalia gets tired of her biological clock and watches TV the insomniac way. Channels like Discovery, HBO, Star Movies have lineups worth watching. If nothing much you could catch one of the back-to-back series of F.R.I.E.N.D.S which would keep you warm enough laughing and drift you off to sleep in no time.
I think its all about an individual and how it fits him or her. Gone are the days when “early to bed and early to rise” was the discipline in every house. Now with new lifestyles and newer job profiles rules have been customized. Otherwise,what will happen to our BPO employees in that case and the 24- hr pharmacies and our poor old chowkidaar to name a few. Why not give him some company and go the “Jaagtey raho” way??
So tell me:
What kind are you?
What do you do when you go to sleep? Read a novel? Listen to music? And stay awake doing nothing? Or whisper sweet nothings to your beloved? Or is it that you are reading this article and laughing to your self and wondering- “Should I reply?”

Interesting Tryst

I had been waiting for almost 20 minutes. Flipping through the October edition of Cineblitz filled with gossips from the starry land, my eyes wandered to something worthwhile. A write up on geo- thermal stations in New Zealand kept me captivated for another 30 minutes when I was called in for the check up.

In the next ten minutes I was on my way to the pharmacy in the basement of the 5 storied clinic. I had shown a constant improvement with my acne treatment and had come in for a routine check up. The clinic was one of its kind. With all possible treatments available in the dermatological domain the architecture of the building was truly state- of- art. The interiors were tasteful with Cerulean blue colour theme. Beautiful ornamented ceramic pottery could be seen on every shelf and the floor was kept warm with nice blue Kashmiri carpets.

In the pharmacy I was greeted by a kind eyed gentleman who must’ve been in his late sixties. Dressed almost identically to Dr. Sharma, a look at his face confirmed him as his brother. He was ruffling through prescriptions and pulling out required medicines for the patient sitting in the sofa inside. I opened the glass door and placed my self next to the first patient. The regular pharmacist was not around and Mr. Sharma looked a bit hassled with packing the medicines in zip pouches and then writing down the billing details. I waited patiently however my curious eyes stayed attentive. Every few seconds he would look at me and smile in a way saying, “I will just attend you in a moment”. I smiled back nodding and reassuring that I was at ease and he need not worry. I think it was this “optical language” that made us click the very next moment. No sooner did the first patient turned his back than Mr. Sharma as he introduced himself as, started chatting with me.

Through out his childhood and adolescence he had lived in and around Delhi. After that he moved to the States and then to the Arabian part of the world where he worked as a Manager for one of the MNC’s. Quite happy with his life it was not until Dr. Sharma, his younger brother, who was practicing as a dermatologist in the States insisted him in starting up their own clinic in India. Close as they were, Mr. Sharma couldn’t say no to his younger favourite. Moreover the thought of coming back home was heart warming enough.

Then began their journey of building the clinic from scratch. Right from buying the land and getting the building erected both the brothers worked towards perfecting everysingle step of their dream. He was made the CEO while Dr. Sharma continued his practice. With a huge clientele and a very busy schedule with patients visiting from all over the world, Dr. Sharma had little time to look into the matters of the company. And what could have been better than your own brother handling it.

Being a traveler Mr. Sharma and his wife had been around the world. “We’ve been to 40 countries,” he gleamed. I smiled back enthusiastically saying, “Wow, I wish to go around the world too!” He quickly replied, “Oh, you should!” And after that I launched into a small description of all the recent tours I had taken and how my generous boss had readily allowed me to take leaves. Mr. Sharma then hurled few questions on my job profile as a researcher and my hobbies and whether I was happy with my job. I nodded and said, “Well, the best thing is I get enough time to travel around.” He listened to me patiently nodding his head here and there and simultaneously making my bills. I was my usual self- chatty and friendly.

Quite pleased with me I suppose, the next thing he did was hand me over his visiting card. A very generous and kind gesture, I thought. He added quickly, “You are full of energy and I like you. Be positive all your life and do what you love the most. I have always liked creative people and you have compelled me to give you my visiting card, which I don’t give out easily. Feel free to contact me any day and I will be more than happy to help you. Keep in touch and I would want to see some of your creativity. ” I smiled benevolently.

It doesn’t happen every day that in the strangest of situations and filled with strange people you suddenly come across someone who without knowing you much, trusts you and believes in you and more importantly wishes good for you. The kind eyes seemed to bless me and reflected the honesty with which I spoke. Mr. Sharma is one of such people whom I would always remember as one of the “Connectors” in my life. People as messengers sent by God to re-instill the faith in me and to always coax me to keep going ahead. Almost like angels.