Angel snores lightly.
Rain drizzles on burning land.
My bosom, my heart.
Angel snores lightly.
Rain drizzles on burning land.
My bosom, my heart.
My daughter’s next killer story. Please note that the entire story has been lifted…I mean, inspired by a Disney story called Lambert, The Sheepish Lion.
Original plot:
It is a lovely video about finding your true identity. You can watch it on You Tube via this link.
So, I had asked my daughter to tell me a story (to escape a similar request from her). I told her I wanted a story of a Hippo. She offered the Hare and Tortoise again and later, Lambert the Sheepish Lion. But I told her, I wanted a Hippo story. So, she simply replaced ‘Sheep’ and ‘Lion’ with ‘Hippo’. Here is her story.
Some of you might have heard of my post about the rebellion amongst the minions in my castle. Bees, wasps and spiders had taken over the place as a revenge for Eid-cleaning. We had been hiding out in the tunnel that Matthew, the rat, had built last year. In return, we had to promise to never use the not-so-poisonous rat poison that his kids were addicted to. He said it was disgraceful in extreme to find his kids rolling around the drains, and the new rats–that were moving in to try the ‘stuff’–were bad influence!
Well! So, we hid there for around a fortnight, until we were able to sign a peace treaty with the rebels. It includes the No Wall Cleaning, No Honey Usage and No Destruction of Web/Nest/Hive clauses.
.
I can finally truly empathize with Ron Weasley from the Harry Potter book. The way he confessed his fear for spiders. Remember the scene of Aragog’s lair? Spiders roughly the size of a car covering every inch of the space and crowding around the heroes clicking their pincers. It is my recurring dream now.
My three-year old daughter decided to commemorate the occasion(?) of treaty with the following painting.

You can see three humans–Me in the front, baby in the middle and W covering our backs– as we run away from the spiders that surround us.

And we end up running right into them, like a zombie horror show, alien attack or End-of-World movie. The pictures came too close for comfort!
If you find too many legs on each spider in the picture, I must remind you, my daughter is a pro, and takes creative liberty in her pieces. Moreover, it is the thought that counts. Eeeek!
I’m sure a lot of you wonder how I look after growing up, since my current profile picture indicates my mental age, around three years. Well, I’ve decided to share a family portrait, curtsey my daughter, aged three and half…
I am the one on the right.

Please note the striking resemblance. It has a head of hair, two eyes, a nose and a smile, two legs and a hand with fingers. Not sure where the other hand is…probably busy typing this post…
The guy on the left is my husband. Again, please note the striking resemblance: a head with hair (though they look a bit short-circuited and slightly longer than usual but I guess, everyone has weird long hair during COVID-19 year), two eyes, a nose and a mouth, two hands and two legs. Not sure why he is wearing a skirt. He is definitely not a bagpiper…but then, she hasn’t learnt how to draw pants.
The one in the middle is my daughter. Again, note how she is being naughty on one side (probably plucking the feather from the pillows), while keeping an eye on her mum, ensuring she doesn’t get caught!
If you are wondering where the two-legged Crocodile is, he is the faint shadow on the top right trying to hobble into black water on its two legs on one side. As to why it has only two legs, my daughter declined to explain. But she told me that two were more than enough.
I do not question her judgement–she’s a pro. I remember the day I reminded her that her monkey doesn’t have a tail. After a quick thought, she told me its a Chimpanzee. Well, as long as she can defend her point…

Giddy with happiness, she recounted how they became proud parents, “We were visiting yet another Gynecologist without any real hope. Outside the clinic, the two little orphans tugged at my clothes begging for food. They called me ‘Maa’ (Mother). We brought them home.”
Photo by Tina Floersch at Unsplash

Β
The story is now part of a short-story collection available in black-white and coloured prints and as an ebook. I will share the links soon.

When I was little…
You were always too tall,
So I grew up stretching
Trying to reach you.
You were always too smart,
So I grew up studying
To be like you.
You were always my hero.
I eventually gave up trying
Because
There is only one “You”.
Not sure if I ever failed you, Papa,
But I always adored you…
Still do…
P.S.: I love you, Papa. Wish you many beautiful year’s to come…

Our first night with the baby…
Baby: “WAAAAH!”
Me: (Distracted, surprised, amused and harrowed) “Google never said a baby can poop, throw up, fart and pee at the same moment!”
Baby: “WAAAAAH!”
Him: (Accusingly) “You don’t know a thing about babies!”
Baby: “WAAAAAAH!”
Me: (Accusing back) “Do you?”
Him: (Sigh) “How do we clean her now that she is covered with muck all over?”
Me: “Bathe her?”
Baby: “WAAAAAAAAH!”
Him: “But it is 3 am and it is cold!
Me: (Sigh)“Let’s ask your mom!”
Baby: “WAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Him: “But it is 3 am…How do we clean her?”
Baby: “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Me: (Sigh) “Let me wipe her.”
Baby: “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Him: (Sigh) “You try comforting her. I’ll wipe.”
-Dedicated to all parents who brave the uncharted waters, including mine
I am a Helium-filled balloon. My daughter has tethered me to the ground but she is also the reason I continue my attempts to fly.