Amiable people. Indifferent people. People as nutty as fruit
cake. People as industrious as bees. People ready to forgive anything. People
ready to pick a fight over anything. People, people and more people – This is
what India is mostly about, a cauldron bubbling with millions of people of all
kinds. There is not one square inch in a
city like New Delhi where one isn’t part of a crowd. It is difficult to feel
lonely here especially because there is always someone ready to stick their
nose in your business. The point being that your business is no longer your own
in India, it is communal. Unbelievable though it may seem but this heaving
surge of humanity is what I missed the most each time I lived abroad.
Now that our tedious transition was a thing of the past, I
was ready to bask in the relative lull that prevailed before Abu’s arrival. It
was as if a storm had passed and my life was once again calm and unperturbed,
much like an ocean after a tempest. Apart from the work that I continued to do
for my company back in the US, there was little on my plate. And even then, it made a world of a
difference that I could now work in my pajamas with my ballooned feet propped
up as opposed to being in the office, at a desk in formal garb. All of this often makes me wonder how the
world has shrunk in terms of physical distances in these past few years! It is
possible to be separated by continents and time zones and yet feel as if your co-workers
are working right by your side. On the other hand though, if you consider a
larger perspective, as far as attenuating the more non-tangible distances like
those between races, economic classes and religions are concerned; mankind
still has a long way to go.
Meanwhile, Abu’s activities were peaking with each passing
day. Pranay, my brother, who was also home on vacation during this time, cooked
up new experiments for Abu each day. For instance, he deliberately played all
kinds of music and gleefully waited for Abu’s reaction to each number. If Abu
kicked on a rock number, it meant that he was going to be butch like his Mamu
(uncle Pranay) and if he made his presence felt when a Hindi movie song was
played, it meant that he was going to be sappy like his Mum. Pranay also insisted that I lounge in the
cozy winter sun each morning just because he felt this would keep Abu nice and
warm. This was a period rife with games of ludo, books galore, great homemade
food and general bonhomie. Times like these are what anecdotes are made of, stories
that are wistfully reminisced for years to come.
March 13th 2016, a day forecasted by my doctors
as the day when Abu would make an appearance, rolled-in and rolled-out uneventfully.
It looked like Abu was reluctant to leave his sanctuary of 40 weeks to make
acquaintance with the world outside. Finally,
after extending his womb-vacation by 3 days, Abu emerged all slippery and slimy
on March 16th and said hello to those who had been waiting eagerly
to meet him. It was as if it had taken him 3 additional days to make up his
mind about ending his sojourn and even then he had to be coaxed and cajoled
into surfacing from the crack that the doctors had made in his Mum’s tummy. I
wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to vacate the cozy confines of his safe
cocoon. Had it been me, I would have perhaps been just as disinclined,
especially after having known the complexities of life on this planet.
Out he came covered in gloop, looking like a spindly, pale
lizard (or so I am told) with long fingers and delicate features. Swaddled in a
soft cloth, he was presented to me like a tiny parcel, a birthday gift of sorts
that had arrived 10 days before my birthday. While the rest of the world
continued to function in its usual rhythm, Arjun and I stopped dead in our
tracks to marvel at what we had created. Child bearing is one of the most
common natural phenomena. If statistics are to be believed, 150 babies are born
across the world every single minute and yet, when we actually experienced the
process, it suddenly changed from what we believed was a run-of-the-mill event
to an absolutely momentous, one-of-a-kind occurrence. What followed was chaos
of apocalyptic proportions. That such a tiny creature was capable of emitting
such high pitched howls and could possess such an insatiable appetite that it
needed to be quenched every couple of hours, was utterly flummoxing. As the
country celebrated the Indian cricket team’s win over Pakistan in the T20 world
cup and mourned the heinous terrorist attack in Brussels, we were deeply
entrenched in our own little universe, grappling with newfound
responsibilities.
All hands in the house were now busy tending to Abu. No one
had a second to spare. Diapers churned with surprising promptness, massages and
baths were executed with tentative hands and nursing schedules were chalked with
as much efficiency as possible. Life as we knew it had changed overnight. The
first thing that hit me hard about this new phase was the lack of sleep. One
morning, Ma found both Abu and me sprawled in the living room, bawling our eyes
out, exhausted beyond our wits after a sleepless night. Imagine her dilemma
when she realized that she not only had a crying new-born to pacify but also
her own 3 decade old baby to deal with! With Abu nestled in the crook of her
elbow and my head resting on her shoulder, she successfully soothed our jangled
nerves that day. How she achieved such a feat is still a mystery to me. I may
have suffered a bout of bipolarity during these days too. My spirit seemed to
sway like a pendulum. Within a matter of a few hours I would go from loathing
the thought of Abu growing even a day older as his tininess was so adorable to
fervently wishing for the next few months to speed by as quickly as possible so
that things would get a little easier.
There were heated debates about the
appropriate rate of weight gain and the need for supplementing with formula.
There were also lengthy discussions on the different hues of Abu’s poop –
something I had never fathomed doing especially since just the thought of
bodily excrement used to make me queasy once upon a time. Even the faintest
hint of a smile on Abu’s face became as coveted a sight as probably a rare bird
on our balcony. Battles were waged over who got to cuddle him first. Each one
of us had our own methods – Arjun had a peculiar dance which entailed holding
Abu and bobbing up and down like a piece of cork floating in the ocean. Abu’s
Nanaji formed a recliner with his hands, on which Abu lounged like a king while
Nanaji strolled up and down. Nani often flipped him over on her lap and
caressed his back, giving him relief on many a colicky nights. I loved napping
with him spread-eagled on my stomach, moving up and down in sync with my
breath. Pranay, when he first met Abu, was so scared of holding him that he
decided to just look at him from a distance. And eventually when he did pick
him up, they looked like the giant and the pea with the pea balancing
precariously on the giant’s shoulder.
5 months later, the house is still
in a tizzy on most days. The frenzy though is more controlled and that there is
a baby amongst us is no longer an intimidating thought. The once spick and span
living room is now a tiny playground with Freddie, the firefly relaxing on the
couch, Ellie the elephant peeking from behind the bolster and Bandy, the monkey
striking acrobatic poses on the center table. Right now if I survey my
surroundings, I can spot nappies drying on the back rests of dining chairs
because they can’t be hung outside due to the rain and there is a baby blanket
carelessly draped over a feeding cushion with a crumpled bib tossed in to add
to the mess. Preeti from a prior life might have gone insane at just the
thought of a living room looking like this early in the morning but today I
know I must wisely choose what to spend my precious time on before Abu wakes
up. Tidying up thus will have to wait because breathing life into my dying blog
is the need of the hour.
