Overwhelmed.

That`s what Ive been feeling since the last coupla days.. or rather nights. The cause - a tiny lil 1.5 X 0.75 sq.feet, 4 month old being .. my niece Diya.
(Pardon the measurement thingy ..she still has no vital stats to speak of ... Shows great promise of flaunting fab stats a coupla decades down the line though :P ... I know, Im perhaps the most shameless maasi around :D )

The first few hours, with her sleeping in my arms, me cooing Akon to her for a Lori (I know Im also the most cracked up Maasi around :( ).. were Blissful ... for the lack of a better word...
I transformed into an award-winning sniffer dog for those few hours. Smelling her all over ... that tiny lil wobbly head , her lil hands , that excuse of a neck ... Aaahhh, no Goddamn parisian perfume can even come close to that absolutely pure and beautiful smell of an infant (ofcourse with generous doses of help from Johnsons & Johnsons baby talcum powder) . And I know 87.33% of you would totally agree... The rest 12.67% - U guys are unpardonably ignorant ..

Now comes the catch ....

We all settle down to go to bed after those happy-family-dines-together-laughs-together-plays-cards-together sessions that Sundays are probably created for.I tuck myself in for a peaceful night`s sleep .. so as to not wake up extra-grumpy for another inevitably gloomy Monday ... .... and there`s a wail ... An ultra high-pitched one at that ... and my cellfone has just beeped 1:30 A.M.
I try and ignore ... jam 2 pillows on my ears ... a few minutes pass by .. I gingerly draw the pillows down ... Ahhh .. the sunehra kinda silence that we used to read on posters in school corridors "Silence is golden" ( I guess it also had a picture of a eyes-half-closed golden Buddha as the backdrop) ... A few peaceful moments pass by ... slumber sets in.. ive already conjured up a beautiful lil Excel sheet and have just started colouring it ....... Another ultrasonic wail ....

Aiyooooo paapam ... I kick back the Rajai and march to Didi`s room .. hair disheveled to the point of no-repair ... sleep ruined to the point of no-return ... And find Diya .. the lil imp ... wiggling about and letting out inexplicably shrill wails ... Mom has her typical worried and hassled Naani look on ... Didi has her irritated but guilty look on (dunno how she manages that ..and no, she hasnt attended any National School of Drama workshops to master that look) ...And then I do the unthinkable ... I actually VOLUNTEER to hold Diya and put her to sleep .. Now by the looks of it, it doesnt seem remotely life-threatening to elicit such a reaction ... Little did I know what was about to unfold..

2 A.M. ... Im rocking her .. Akon is replaced by Celine Dion .. to no avail .. she keeps kicking about .. flailing her arms .. in general a very happy and wide-awake kid ..
the keyword here being "wide-awake" ...

3:30 A.M. ... Im still rocking her ... Im back to mixing Akon and Black Eyed Peas and am at my mellifluous best ....
Result - Her eyes are as wide as big round brown saucers and shes gurgling away in joy ... and I have serious doubts that she has bid the sleep fairies a very stern Goodbye ...

4:15 A.M. .. Now she starts getting cranky ... all her toothless smiles n gurgles have been replaced by her trying to scratch her own face and pulling at her own soft silky mop of hair ...
As about me - Had there been a cam around somewhere .. then perhaps the most genuine award-winning photograph captioned "HELPLESS" would have been captured right there right then.

5 A.M. ... Now shes crying and howling alternatively and I have absolutely no doubts that any Norah Jones or Shreya Ghoshal could have exercised their vocals chords to any degree of success in calming this wiggly lil creature in my arms. I somehow balance her precariously on one arm and ready her feeding bottle .. This is something I actually should win an award for .. Atleast it would be more credible than a 'Star Performer of the Quarter' award. She finishes off the bottle in what .. 6 minutes flat and flashes this full and content smile at me. Im almost tempted to let out a sigh of relief when I see those eyes again regaining their widest diameter and she kicking about as if Id just fed her a whole can of Red Bull.

6:15 A.M. ... Shes playing with my hair ... has drooled all over my shorts and is generally giving another of her lengthy discourses in gurgly gibberish. Im perched on my bed .. crosslegged .. reclined against the wall .. staring at some invisible crack on the ceiling .. My thought trail reads something like this ...

Was the ceiling always this disgusting a yellow .... and the fan .. how odd ! Id never noticed the golden thingies carved on its blades .. I should start decoding baby-gibberish .. That would so certainly bag me a Nobel and I could visit Sweden again .. Hopefully in summer .. I wish people would conceive in summer and babies are born in winter ... I could make a roaring business in baby woollens and thermals .. Winter Fashion for Just-borns .. 'The perfect styling for the purrrfect first photograph of your little one'.. On second thoughts, I wish people just don`t conceive at all ... Every couple should be content with just doing it .. not making something out of it u know ! Couples can just adopt .. Why go through the traumatic experience of pregnancy, puking, doc visits, labour , delivery , post-natal care and the baap of all - the extra traumatic sleepless days n nights when the baby makes everything else around you vanish into a black hole. Its just this lil wiggly lil mass of flesh that becomes the center of your universe .. much to ur then-better-now-crabby half`s consternation. All the louuu goes outta the window when the squabble starts about whos gonna change the diapers .. whos gonna ready the milk bottle .. whos gonna put her to sleep ... Heyyy ...wait a sec ! Aren`t I supposed to be rocking a pesky lil one to sleep myself ... And I look down ..

And There she is ...
Lil ringlets of hair framing that angelic face .. lips half open in a dreamy smile ( Another Bigggg doubt - What do babies dream about baba, that makes them smile away in their sleep), flushed cheeks and tiny lil fingers wrapped around my little finger and her body nuzzled close against me as the first rays of dawn bathe her in their mellow light ...
It makes me want to cry a little.
I hold her close to me and lie down beside her .. an arm protectively around her .. shielding her from the sunrays , from the early morning chill , from badass mosquitoes who dare not come within a coupla hundred of metres around her.

Diya ... Someday when you grow up to become a lovely lil girl ... and then bloom into a lovelier woman ... I want you to know me ... your Maasimaa ...
She might be a lil healthily-demented .. might not come across as a sane, sober, dainty female ... might have the most atrociously un-normal way of looking at things and life in general ... but in all of her 24 years of existence there have been and are a very few things she is absolutely sure of ...
A couple of those being - that of she loving you to bits ... and that of you, in all your gurgling glory, having changed the way she thought about faith ... about love .. about life ...