Rich Feels Sorry for The Calves

The night before cyclone Aila hit west Bengal and uprooted many trees, homes along with the faith of common men on the administration, it was raining cats and dogs at my home town. It started raining suddenly. We went to attend a marriage ceremony and we were stuck. We were not prepared for the rain. After waiting half an hour somehow we managed umbrellas and came back home. There was no rickshaw available. We managed Rich in our laps. Otherwise also he hardly likes to walk especially when we go out and his Dad-Dad around. I admit that I was finding it real hard to carry him after a sumptuous dinner even though the distance was not more than 500 meters. Our “Dari Kaku”  (Rich calls him “Bandhu”, a Bengali word, which means friend) lent a helping lap (which he always does) and carried him. 

After returning home we were enjoying the rain from the balcony. We saw two cows (one of them was calf), at the roadside, were totally wet. I though they must be enjoying every drops of rain by basking in it (especially when we experienced excruciating heat through out the month). Suddenly Rich lamented– “How helpless the calf is!!.” Our thoughts were different. His “Mum-Mum” mentioned continuing his tone – “Yeah!! They don’t have a home.” But he engrossed in his thought continued without paying much heed to her words – “See, his Mum-Mum can’t carry him in her lap!!”

My Son’s Best Friend

Rich has started going school. It is a play school.  I used to be vehemently in disagreement with the idea of admitting children to school even before they are 3 years – I used to blame the working parents and admission processes. Though my wife always used to insist that if an institute is designed properly as per the disciples’ age, it more often than not produces better result and it is good to go with the time.  Now when the circumstances have forced us to send him to school and we see him enjoying the new environment, I feel nothing wrong in it. In fact, seeing the changes in him I feel that my wife is right (wives are always right ;-)). 

At the age of two, Rich didn’t like to mingle with the children of his age. He used to be happy with people of our age or older. We were his friends. Not sure good or bad, we wanted him to mingle with children of his age. So we admitted him to the play school (yes at the age of two). He used to cry like anything – along with him our hearts also cried. But we kept ourselves strong. Hopefully we were not headstrong. We tried sending him to school for one week. We noticed unprecedented changes in his behavior. He would not wake up in the morning, he would not change his dress, and he would not go out of room. He would not do anything in the earth except crying. He was a different child. Basically he rebelled. We gave in though teachers at his school said that that was normal. For next three months we never tried sending him to school. After that we again tried once. But we failed. Finally we succeeded when he became 2 years 7 months.  

He has many friends at school now – Ruchit, Arko, Anish, Snehapriya. Everyday we hear new names. He is also very fond of his teachers. He talks about them at length. We all enjoy his version of story that he tells. Naturally he often encounters questions on his friends from our relatives and friends. When asked the story never ends until he is stopped. Eventually the most common question which he faces, while talking about his friends, is “Among these who is your best friend?”. He replies “Dad-Dad”. What an elated and blissful father I am. I wish I can always remain his best friend.

The most beautiful sound I have ever heard

Have you ever thought of the most beautiful sound you have ever heard? People will have different opinions. Someone would say it is sound of a cuckoo (in one of the fine mornings of the spring). To you it may be beating of waves in the ocean. To my wife it is certainly silence. My son likes the sound of breaking glass – he gets elated every time something breaks – it may be expensive perfume bottle which I was using miserly for years or the dinner set which we just bought. I wish he understands that along with the glasses our hearts also break.

 

The one sound that always rings in my ears is “Dear Dad-Dad” coming out from the mouth of my son – that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Whenever he wants me to do something for him he utters affectionately those sweet and heart-melting words. Depending on his urgency and physical distance between us the length and warmness alter proportionately – “Deaaaar Diaaaaaad Diaaaaaaaad”

Don’t Get Confused with Two Dads

Before making any inference, hold your imaginations – please don’t get confused with two dads on the title of my blog. The word appears twice because my son either never happy with one or may be he finds these words more rhythmic by repeating the word. He calls me “Dad-Dad”. He calls his mother “Mum-Mum”. I don’t remember that we have ever taught him to call us so. To cite another example he always refers “bichhana” ( a Bengali word which means bed) as “Bichhanana”.

Oh!! I haven’t introduced my son yet!! His name is “Oishik” – we call him “Rich” at home. He is 2 years and 8 months old now. Your world consists in what you are thinking of all day - don’t know whether world is spherical or “World is Flat”, my world is “Rich”.