My Sun is my Light

Time rolls by. Hard to believe that the tiny baby I held within me and got relentlessly kicked by through nights during the last trimester of my pregnancy - he is now 8 years old. The only thing that hasn't changed is my constant worries hovering around him and his constant kicking - it doesn't end:)  

When I think of that beautiful morning when he was born, two little things leap to my mind. One, the fragrance of Shiva Ranjani (associated with Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba) filled the room next to the Labour Room where I lay. I was holding my father's hand (he is a doctor in the same hospital and that allowed him to be with me till I was taken in) and both of us inhaled the fragrance. 

My father asked the nurses where the fragrance was coming from and they said it is odd because the hospital does not allow incense sticks to be lit because it causes allergies in many pregnant women. She and a couple of other nurses searched nearby rooms to check if anyone had lit incense sticks and they came back saying they couldn't find anything. I felt that it was my Guru's love coming my way, divinely protecting me as His promise to me is this "You are my Daughter. I shall protect you always as the eyelids protect the eyes." 

The second thing that I remember most is when I saw Adi's face looming close to mine, within minutes after the umblical cord was cut. I looked into his eyes and I felt an explosion of vast, ocean-like love that I have never felt towards anything or anyone before. That love is difficult to describe. It felt like light, golden, beautiful dappled light that had lit me from within. It felt like the Sun's glorious touch.

And then the doctor said, "Little Prince, give your mom a kiss." I felt the kiss and the tears that were flowing from my eyes. Thereafter I slipped into a void for nearly 12 hours and remembered nothing except a rosy cheeked baby looking sleepily into my eyes. It felt as though I was looking into myself. A strange feeling that still leaves me awe struck.

Now coming back to this March 14th, we placed this cake in our puja room in the morning and the birthday boy cut the cake, offered the first slice to God and then to parents. Within minutes, the school bus had come and he trotted off to school in excitement. The reason for excitement is the box of chocolates he intended to distribute in his class. 

The next evening, Adi had a small cake cutting party with a bunch of friends. He had a themed cars cake and it was as delicious as the first cake shown above.  The only difference is that the first cake had butterscotch and vanilla flavor whereas the car cake had strawberry and vanilla flavor. Everyone seemed to love the cake. There was lots of fun, laughter, cake smearing and it was just beautiful to watch my little boy bask in so much love.

Adi had wanted my parents to be there for his 8th birthday but they had been with us in the month of February and had to go back before his birthday. A couple of times, Adi asked me, "Can't Appa (that's what he calls my dad) stay for my birthday? I wish he and Mummy (my mom) are there for my birthday." 

I told him, "Talk to Appa directly about how you feel." 

Adi's response surprised me a lot. He said, "Appa has booked his return tickets a month ago. If I say this to him, he will feel forced to change his tickets and that will cost him more money. I don't want Appa to waste money because of me. So, we won't tell Appa that I want him to stay." 

This touched me a lot for two selfish reasons. One, he understands the value of money and how hard my father works even at this age to earn it. Second, he isn't thinking about his pain, he is prioritizing his grandfather's convenience first. To me, it was an eye-opener. My little boy, whom I sing songs to and gently rock to sleep and hold close in a perpetual half-embrace even in deep sleep, he is growing into a fine human being who cares genuinely about people. 

A smart mother would probably not let this happen - may teach him to be more practical with a trick or two to place his needs first and that of others second. After all, it is all about survival of the fittest in hard, competitive world. 

But then, I am not a smart mother. I am happy to see my son imbibing the same values that I hold close to my heart. So yes, we celebrated alone. 

The special touch of love came from a surprise gift box. This thrilled Adi when he received it on his birthday - it was a lovely box of knick knacks, games and gifts for him including a little tub of strawberry shaped erasers that smelled delicious enough to eat. Adi LOVED it.  

Then, while using the first eraser, he said another thing that deeply touched my heart, "Appa has a thinking mind. When he buys anything for me, he thinks about how I can use it. Everything Appa buys for me is with a thinking mind." 

Sometimes I find it so hard to believe how fast he's growing up. He is all I have, closer than my heartbeat, and yet so difficult to fathom. It's a matter of time before he breaks free of my embrace and finds a way to soar from home.  And when that happens, my heart says that my home will cease to be what it is. Nope, I don't even want to think about it. As I read recently in Nadeem Aslam's brilliant novel The Blind Man's Garden, "Love is not consolation, it is Light." 

And no matter where he is, my Sun is my Light.