Stray Musings - I

Stray thoughts that have been pending for sometime ...

Growing up with a girl is never a smooth journey (like it is with a guy). While aging is one smooth when-did-that-happen for a guy, it's anything but that for a girl. Every milestone is marked and the celebrations that ensue seal beyond doubt that things will never be the same again. I learnt it first when I was thirteen (and so was she) and was too young to even comprehend what happened. I saw it again when I was 18, when she got married and moved away, and with every step widened an irremediable distance that's been growing since. At 23, I felt it again when I saw her lie in the bed with her baby next to her - the feeling of being with a stranger I can't relate to, someone who's much elder than I am, who's at the threshold of responsibilities far beyond my ability and who's been through an experience that's beyond my imagination.

She smiled as I entered the room and asked me to sit - Next to her was a life that was just a week old, a pink ball punctured with slits and dots for what should be eyes, mouth and a nose blissfully asleep next to her mother. She was too young to be held, touched, coochi-cooed and scared, to even stand next to for the fear that germs and evil vices from one's existence will mar what's closest to pristine purity in this world. We spoke in whispers about the job, the weather, the family dog and what it has for dinner trying to come into terms with something that both of us could feel but pretend didn't exist.

Every once in a while, I caught a glimpse of the pink ball to see if she would miraculously open her eyes and give me a toothless grin or a hug. But she was fast asleep and her mother was more than glad she was. And just as I was about to leave, the pink ball smiled - She was still fast asleep, probably she had a sweet dream. God only would know what she was thinking, an image that is not inspired by anything she's seen around, memories of the womb, her first home, that she still carries in her head - things we have outgrown, baggage we never can unlearn. But that smile - A split second and that's all it lasted. A smile that wasn't checked and corrected in the mirror, that doesn't carry the fear of pain, that's not tarnished by self consciousness and is not sweetened to please. The most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.

Pure.