I personally feel that whenever one falls short of words (a very common pitfall all of us, writers must negotiate our way around), all that is needed to get the winning streak back is to think or talk or write about something they enjoy. Of late, I've been enjoying (or not, if I may say so- but I'm trying to be positive and looking at it as something rejuvenating) a quite lasting writer's block. Between paying back my sleep debt and trying to not be sluggish through the day but failing, I found this pearl of wisdom, once again, when I was walking the fine line between the states of wakefulness and sleep- I NEED to write about my darling little baby niece! That's all that I need to snap me back into how I'm meant to be, how I usually am!
Now, I would've ignored this suggestion the "forces" brought to me, but I woke up to the most brilliantly beautiful smiles in the world (beats Tom Cruise's and for that matter, even Hugh Grant's any day!). With eyes almost closed, cute little inviting cheeks and those tiny hands holding a doll which both my baby and I adore. In fact, I have a little pact with her to ensure that the doll is handed over to me when she's bored of it or simply grows out of it- either proposition seemingly quite unlikely but I'm a hopeful person! I bet you can feel me trying to get it all out of my system- the words, I mean and so parched am I from not having written anything for a long time, that I can't quite wait! I'm not typing fast enough for my thoughts which are racing and bouncing off the walls of my cranial cage. I need to get a grip before I have to redo the whole post which is likely to be littered with "typing like a cat" casualties. Anyway, I need to get this done for my own good and for that of people surrounding me- I've been sulky from holding back all the smart words and interesting phrases inside me and not letting them out! Yes- writing is my personal brand of heroin/cigarettes, whatever it is that you identify with. (I firmly state that I am in no way endorsing drug abuse on my blog.)
Back to li'l Manya! She is adorable even when she whines! And she has a special and advanced fascination for my red hairband, my phone, a nice little song both of us fall asleep to, and an expandable ball- more like a cagey contraption which flares up in size when thrown up in the air (some physics at work but I don't want to think about that yet). Sometimes, she makes me wonder if I would like to relive my age 0-2 years all over again. (For obvious reasons and reluctance related to repeating school, I stop at 2). She has a whole stock of toys, hugs dolls (some are bigger than she is), teddy bears, ducks, dogs- name it and she has it... those pretty little frocks and tiny shoes which squeak when she walks...Add to that, she's learning to talk ... so, anything she says seems so wonderfully musical and softly addictive. And trust me, that child can dance... she has a thing for technology as well and as noted by her other aunt, she loves tearing paper apart- something I love too, even at this mature age.
As I come to a close on this post, I wonder- am I consciously trying to hold on to being little? Point in action- I tied my hair in two braids the other day and felt ecstatic!
I know I didn't particularly enjoy my younger years- I was one of those careful, studious, sincere children- something children are NOT meant to be. I don't have fun anecdotes to share with my friends, I don't remember me stepping out the line ever! Well maybe just a little bit, but nothing major. I didn't get into trouble, I wasn't fun. Is that what makes me so insecure but then quite friendly; so trusting yet obsessively demanding; overweight yet stubbornly comfortable; and something I recently discovered, suffering from the "having it all and not knowing what to do with it" syndrome.
Once again, I let it all slide as I trot off (yes, a light quick step) to enjoy another episode of "Doraemon" with Manya in tow.
Now that last line made me think I might have avoidance issues too- but that's for later. Doraemon is singing... Need to go.
