In this home, there exist two separate distinct worlds. Ours and Hers.
Ours? Well, all of you are part of this one, so it doesn’t need an introduction. It is a world filled with To Do lists, calenders, clocks, dead lines and what nots. Time never seems to take a rest here.
She is always sprinting from every second. As if she is running a never ending Marathon. And we? You and I? We run along with her too. Some times we happily jog along. At other times, she drags our sulking figures along with her.
Time does give us a few moments to sit and take a breather. To take a whiff of the crisp and chilly, early December morning air. To realise that another year is getting ticked off our lives.
365 days. 12 months. 52 weeks.
That is what our world looks like. A diary of achievements and failures. Happy and sad moments. Errors and best practices. Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries and news about death. New beginnings and ends. New friends and re-connecting with old ones. Feelings. Lots and lots of feelings.
Our world seems pretty vibrant and lively. Doesn’t it? Change is the only constant thing in our world. And doesn’t she keep us on our toes? Who would not want to move out of this world?
And then for a moment, Time in Our World decides to take a breather. With nothing better to do, you look over to see what the other world is all about?
Her World. Her 2.8 year old little world. Time stands still here. Time is still the size of a little Table Tennis ball here. She is innocent. Time is still learning to roll. There are no mile stones to reach. No targets to meet. Change is constant here too. But, in Her World, changes don’t appear to be the war like challenges, like they do in Ours. The little girl adapts without being taught. And at an amazing rate.
The Time in Our World is on the roll again. But for once, you do not want to start running around the track again.
Her World is so mesmerizing, that all you want to do is just be a part of it. May be for ever. The air in Her World is always heavy with excitement and anticipation. To scribble endlessly. Or play with the blocks to make imaginary ice creams and chocolates to be served to the elders. All you want to do is observe her, listen to her, chattering away to the toys, like her school teacher. Brushing away strands of silk like hair, that refuse to be clipped away, she arranges the toy animals in a line. Her face is set to a serious expression.
Suddenly! A little house fly finds its way to come and sit on her knee. Swap! She sends the animals scattering, in her attempt to shoo away the housefly.
Expecting a break down, you try to sneak back to your world. But the lure of what will happen next, keeps you rooted to the spot.
She shakes her head, sighs, and resumes to setting up the animals.
Just when you think it is going to take a long time now until she does something new, and you are about to trudge back to your world, she is interrupted by the sunlight reflecting off a distant building’s window pane. She goes off, trying to catch it. Animals forgotten.
Her toys, her playmates can keep her engaged for hours on end. She will stop to ask for a snack now or then, or for assistance to visit the restroom. Rest of the time, she is as happy as a busy little bee, muttering to her self, singing a song, reciting an impromptu rhyme to the audience of soft toys.
Sometimes, she wanders around the house. Twinkling eyes drooping with sleep, her faces breaks in to a huge yawn. She pads barefoot from room to room, searching for something, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Her playtime has tired her, she wants to take a nap.
And then she finds what she is looking for. Her Mother’s night dress, tucked under a pile of warm sun dried clothes, just brought in from the balcony. She tugs at it. The mound of clothes weighing on top of it is huge. She tugs with all her might again. But the night dress won’t budge. Tired and extremely sleepy, she clambers up on the mound of clothes and digs a little hole in the warm cloth hill.
She snuggles in, wrapping and cuddling her Mother’s night dress around herself. Slowly, the little left thumb finds its way in to her tiny mouth, as she watches the sun rays’ journey from top of the window frame to its lowest edge. Her eyelids flutter, trying to keep track of the sun. There is one last thought, as sleep takes over from within the comforts of Mummy’s night dress wrapped all around her, just like the nights, when Mummy cuddles her to sleep. The sun has reached half way down the window now. Mummy will be home as soon as the sun disappears below the window sill. To hug and cuddle and play.
You watch her drift off to sleep. You heave a sigh, and smile. Time truely stands still in Her World.
But you must rush back to yours now!
Cause the sun is about to disappear below the window sill! It will soon be time to go home.
To hug and cuddle and play. In Her World.