Click here for shortcuts to regional language blogs and city-specific events.
It was a beautiful day. In-fact a perfect one to be true. The whether just got pleasant and to celebrate it, my bundle of joy was at home. Yes, it was a breezy weekend morning. Sitting in my porch, sipping my first cup, my 2 year old woke up to the pitter patter and came running towards me. I hugged him instantly and carried him in my arms. Opening his precious eyes to the beauteous weather, the first thing he said was; “Mumma, Rain Rain Go Away”. That’s his first reflex response to rains. Not that he doesn’t like rains to have uttered that but that’s what a 2 year old knows of rains as he has heard the melodious rhyme a number of times.
This innocence of him struck me to the core. I began contemplating; “Is that all my kid knows of the rains or associates them with? A rhyme which in fact urges rain to go away so that the children can play”. Why can’t children play in the rain, under the rain and with the rain? That’s not what we have been taught as kids. We as kids, loved to get drenched in the rain, wet ourselves completely and never wanted to change those clothes. And what our children are learning is to shoo the rain away. Rains are the best that could happen to Delhi. The lush green Delhi engulfs in a sheet of greener and shinier flora that creates a sight worth watching for. The city that oozes with an enchanting history becomes magical at the very first drop of monsoon. The wide roads that we possess radiate with the rainwater ever so much that the air is beautifully filled with an earthen aroma. Who would want to miss such a sight?
Definitely not me, neither my little one. Being born and brought up in Delhi, I have had this privilege of experiencing all the seasons in my hypnotizing Delhi. Now it’s time for the little brigade to experience the magic. Carrying him in my arms, I took him out of the shed and watched him give the strangest expressions when rain-drops fell over his face. He closed his eyes, tweaked his nose, and even wiped his face several times. But when he saw his mother inviting the rain with open arms and even an open mouth to let all her senses feel the exotic liquid, he stooped down and started copying me. That was one moment, I felt proud, content and happy at the same time. My whole childhood flashed back in front of me like a motion picture and I held my kid with the tightest hug ever.
We played, we ran, jumped in the puddles and even made the quintessential paper-boats. I grabbed the paper out of excitement but when I started folding it, my hands would cease, maybe I had forgotten the steps to make a paper-boat. Maybe I had forgotten my childhood. Maybe the kid inside me has taken a break. In this race of survival and catching the earliest metro-train day in and day out, our hands forget to move themselves for something as important as innocence. I could see my child waiting with bated breath as to what mommy is up to and what to expect out of a piece of paper except tearing it. I quickly grabbed hold of my smartphone- a necessary evil in today’s times and learnt all the steps to make a paper-boat. And, there we were with our very first paper boat, plain-white in color, perfectly folded over the edges. It was time to let the emotion sail, with all courage, memories and confidence in myself to be a “buddy” to my child. I lowered the boat holding my kid’s hand and gave it a slight push. It went swaying and swishing into the clogged water stream, braving lots of obstacles in its way and finally fading from our sight.
Then what, boat after boat we folded, pressed and sailed lots many of them. This time but all colored ones, with a different color each time. Why should my Kid’s boat be all white? It has to have all shades of kid’s wild imagination. This play of Mom and baby went on for about 1.5 hours till the rain lost its speed and so did the boats. I gave him an umbrella eventually, his favorite from the ‘Cars’ movie and taught him how to protect himself from drenching in the rain if ever he needs to. He very graciously took the lesson as after the long play he was too tired and wanted to relax with his beautiful umbrella. It was now time for a hot drink for both of us to let the magical feeling sink in and breaking the ice over the rains. He very calmly forgot the unfitting rhyme and calmly rested his head on my shoulder, completely fearless and content. And I saw myself as a proud mommy in the reflection of the wet floor on my porch, enjoying new experiences with my child, experiences of “fearless childhood”.