Hello there. It’s me again, Ms. Ananya, writing again for my
papa. I had written earlier and you can read it here. I am writing again
because my papa says that his muse has gone on strike. I don’t know yet what a
muse is, but I am sure all strikes are bad.
I am 9 months old and can crawl. Now, my mama is constantly
worried if I would pick something and gobble (SWALLOW in her language).It’s not
that I am hungry; it’s just that I want to feel it and learn more about it. My mama scolds me often and the other day she
even slapped me on my butt. But the slap felt like a caress, so I didn’t mind
it. She doesn’t understand that she has been around in this world for 28 years,
and I have just been for 9 months. She can’t expect me to know everything what
she knows. This is why I feel she needs more lessons on “how to bring up kids”.
By-the-way, I don’t call my papa “papa”: He doesn’t like
being called a “papa”. He wants me to call him “Achan”.I heard my mama ask papa
the other day: what would he like me to call him, and he said “Achan”. Achan is “papa” in Malayalam. He said he is a
malayali and would like his daughter too to be one, in every aspect. He says he
doesn’t have to ape the west. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but my mother
was mentioning that ever since my papa has gone out of India, he has become
more Indian. Now, my papa wants me to learn Malayalam first, as he feels it
would help me know my true identity. I don’t know, maybe he is right. Or maybe
he is not, only time will decide. But I am sure my papa, oops sorry, achan, will
not force his ideologies on me and let me decide what I want to be.
I can make sounds now. I mostly say TA-TA, and my mama thinks I am calling “Taththa”,
which means a parrot in Malayalam. The
other day, when my papa called her and I was in her lap, she told me that it’s
my achan calling and I mimicked her by saying A-c-h-a. She was very happy. Even
my papa was very happy. They feel I would speak soon. I hope they don’t make me
utter words like “Schizophrenia”, and make my tongue twist. These people are so
impatient, if they had a way they would make me to apply for a driving license
as soon as I learn to walk.
If my mama wasn’t such a FREAK ( That’s what my papa calls
my mom, freak), I would have been with my papa by this time. My mama refused to
travel with him; she thinks swine flu is dangerous and we shouldn’t take risk
with me. I would be travelling with my papa to the gulf in March. My papa would
be coming in Feb. end next year, for my first birth day.
My papa loves me very much. The other day when my mama said
that she slapped me on my butt, coz I had become too naughty, my papa asked her
how she could possibly feel like scolding me or slapping me. He asked her to
look at me, how small I was, with tiny nose and little, cute eyes. Doesn’t her
heart melt by the sight of me? She replied that papa was saying all this coz he
was away and was missing her. Even he would feel like it if he were to take
care of me, even for an hour. But my papa replied that he would be the same, no
matter if he takes care of me for a hundred years. I too love my papa. He is
the best there ever is.
I eat solid food now. My mama makes mashed rice with dal and
ghee and I like the taste. She also gives me potatoes, carrots and mashed
bananas. I love bananas but not carrots. I hate beetroots and my mama made me
eat beet roots the other day. But I pooped so red the next day that my mama got
scared and stopped feeding me beetroots altogether. I couldn’t help laugh. I
need to learn more tricks to handle mama (chuckles).
Thank you all for reading. Sorry, I had become too mushy. Thanks
for reading and apologies if I jaded you guys. Take care.


