She wakes up when the first rays of the nascent morning sun touches her sublime face. Her first reaction would be to squirm a little on either side of bed, stretch her arms to the full and explore the region beside her to see if mamma and papa are there to cuddle her amidst the beginning of a bright new day. Then the very first words of the day would come out – Ma. Sometimes, for a change, it would be Baba also.
For a person who has seen more than thirty cycles of the earth around the sun, these little whimpers and oomph are the sweetest and most enlightening sounds and gestures of all.
Well if you still did not guess what all this is about; let me clear your doubts. I am describing here about my daughter, a full 3 years and 9 months old, and how she would begin every new day in her life.
The assurances now verified about the guardians being well and truly by her side, she would start feeling relaxed about the fresh beginning, and begin slowly to take in the cozy ambience of the soft bed, the accompanying pillows and all other kiddy stuffs that were placed the night before preparing for the slumber ahead. All this time, while she is still tucked up between blankets, Ma and Baba would be cuddling her with all their love and kindness on the one little being that has made their life ever so charming and beautiful.
Once out of the bed, and now fully awake and alert, in her usual confident and masterful self, the demands for the day would start to ooze out; the minor and non-disturbing ones first, followed by the major and the eye rolling ones sometime later, placed in a perfect hierarchy so as not to arouse suspicion of what may be the next one.
By the time the sun has barely managed to cover one-fifth of the horizon, most of the harmless demands have been squeezed out of the helpless parents, who have once again have fallen prey to the cute tactics of a three and half year old connoisseur. By this time, as with every day, the parents have been utterly fed up of all the mischief, have had their self confidence smashed to smithereens by their inability to exercise control and are on the brink of losing all their self control, gathered over years of experience and worldly wisdom.
These innocently harrowing moments are then followed by a lull and dull phase wherein the being I speak of decides to venture out of her nest and explore the world of other little beings, which we call the school. All of a sudden there is a strange emptiness in the house, where time itself seems to have decided to rest for a while and rejuvenate itself before another onslaught may follow.
But before time and the inhabitants of the dwelling can recharge their vitalities to the fullest, the second phase of the storm arrives. This time, although slightly weary after the worldly activities outside, the enthusiasm seems to have rekindled in the form of a fresh spark, for the simple reason that she is now again back in her personal territory; a place where her commands would be carried out, or at least pondered upon, because she is the soul of the house. A soul that purifies the entire existence of the elderly inhabitants who see in her twinkling eyes the entire world full of joy, innocence and simplicity; things that the rest of the world has forgotten that they ever existed under the sun.
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