the smallest possible perfect number - six is sexy!

Nirvaan is a big kid this year. Looking back at last year’s birthday I still see the toddler in him. Now it’s gone, and in it’s place is this boy full of muscle and movement and song.

Every waking second he’s singing or joking or yelling. He rode a bicycle without any help from the word go. He watches way too much kids show and spins his own yarns. He is now naughty, now a little monster, now all almost adult like patience and now a tantrum throwing teenager.  “Mummy I don't need any more friends, I have you and your friends” to “Mummy can I show my new watch to my friends?” to “Mummy you are fired, but of course you shouted at me” to “Mummy can I get inside your tummy again?” 

He wants to go to outer space and my sister's house! A constant theme of his life. For him, everything is drama. His eyes wide in mock despair or bright with glee. 

He got a pocket full of coins, a watch with hands (!!), and a basketball for his for his birthday. Recently he’s learned to cut shapes; carefully sketching, coloring and cutting them at the edges for his teachers. He picks up wild flowers for me and stones for his bath time playing! 

He wants to help with my homework! Dinner and even driving!

The weekdays go by in a rhythm and blur. School and work. We do the same things. We do different things. We spend our days mostly apart. We come together in the evenings, hungry, excited, tired, impatient, eager, quiet.

As we get dinner together and the sleep time histrionics; that is the time we exchange stories. Say our Sorrys for stuff we must have done wrong. Say our Love Yous and do the huggy-sleep and butterfly kisses!  

Every day that is my favorite time, a moment of pause and grace to the world “Thank You God, for everything! And Good Night Everybody!"  Mommy, he asks, how did I come out of your tummy? Mommy, when will Nanu get better? Mommy, can we build rockets to go to outer space? And, Mommy, I miss you when you are not there!

He doesn’t have perfect table manners yet, but he knows how to ask questions with weight.

It’s so funny hanging out with six year old. Its like undulation between being grown up and yet full of wonder and a little one with fleeting feelings. Everything is magic. Anything possible. Days are filled with quick heartbreaks and quicker ecstasies.

I cant quite seize the sweet exhilaration of this little man! My smiles and even my barely held exasperation scatter like freckles around this point of life. The heart is just a helium balloon!

Being Six is Sexy!   Blessings to you, my biggest Blessing! 

-Love Mummy!

Copyright©Neerja Yadav

the escape art

We are all pieces, trying to find the best fit for all our edges; grappling with self, with life and with purpose.

Today I found myself feeling every thought that traipsed across my mind, not just thinking and analyzing on auto pilot but feeling them… each one of them.

A neighbor lost one of her sons to complications of cancer, a friend lost a friend to depression; another one lost a girlfriend to murkiness. I devoured books like someone out of prison. I took impulsive drives in impulsive rains. I forgot obvious words in the middle of sentences. Basically I ran out of words. Bundled up on emotions; every single one of the senses taut and alert and me just the audience.

It’s been a drama of a week.

On Monday in the wake of a dramatic weekend and in wake of series of arguments with the manager and the way things are at work, politically, dirty, I decided to drown myself in work. And did just that! Dive down and there’s plenty to do, some oysters to find, some pearls to be discovered and some simple wonders of everyday. The beauty of being busy! The magic of mundane.

On Tuesday an impromptu coffee meeting and then what looked like escape begins to look like destination of some form. I stayed up till nearly midnight. Reading. Thinking. Hurting. Dreaming. Calming myself down. It is kind of surreal to see yourself through the motions of emotions. Be this high octane drama queen one moment and lovelorn lost soul next to completely sorted strategist the very next second. Like Magic.

On Wednesday I stayed up until midnight, talking, wanting to just go out and chill;  while trying to make sense of the addiction to drama. Why does he do this? Really? I am at a point in my existence where even a hint of anything over the top, dramatic, scares the hell. Drains the premium Qi away! And, then I just gave up trying to fight the illogic. Trying to draw some semblance of sense. Why bother? Not with apathy… but with compassion and understanding that everyone needs to, has a right to make their own brand of mistakes, missteps and evolve from there. Caterpillar to Butterfly is messy and yet Magic.

On Thursday took a detour from norm and went out pub hopping; on an invitation; invitation of an impulse! Reached home and collapsed into bed short circuiting another scene and another risk. And my five year old waiting for me and promptly falling asleep holding my hand, was magic!

Friday was back to back meetings – strategies to be made. New financial year to be charted; excels to be plotted and then Starbucks. Catching up on space. On nothingness. On re-calibration. On curious quotidian. Nothing short of magic.

Now, looking at Saturday. Day full of reading and wondering and laundry and chores and thinking and obsessing. And now catching up with friends, picking up from last weekend…  

A day of whiskey in wine glasses, and wine in coffee mugs and vodka in beer glasses; managing toddler time with grown-ups talktime; a day of letting the drama slide out … and unwittingly it becomes a day of letting go, hanging on and keeping things which matter, close…

For real life is messy. And real life is murkier than any pathos can hope to be and real life is richer, right here, happening, unraveling while we zone out…

Copyright © Neerja Yadav