When Shonali was in her sixth month, My Aunt presented us with the most beautiful cot ever... Now I have never known one wood from another, but even I was clued in enough to know that this wooden contraption was expensive, and it meant the world to my wife... Soon enough, her enthusiasm rubbed off on me as well. We started beautifying what we were determined to make the perfect sleeping environment for our baby... We bought stuffed toys, knick-knacks and the most beautiful cot mobile for her. It had a little lion, a giraffe, a zebra and the token teddy bear, all of whom swayed gently to Brahms Lullaby as the four arms from which each of them hung, rotated.
Not generally interested in stuff like this, I have to admit, I was impressed. I gave in to my wife's demands of buying everything we could under the sun for our baby.
We made countless trips to Dezign (the premiere store for babies, kids, toddlers and what have you in New Delhi at the time), in fact, I don't know how it is possible, but sometimes we landed up there even if we left the house to buy something as mundane as bread... though I drew the line at buying anything blue or pink. I wasn't sure I wanted a boy with a pink cot and wardrobe, or a girl with a blue one for that matter... and those trips ended up with us spending way beyond what we should have, and having no money for anything else, but it was worth it...
Our baby was going to have the most beautiful cot in the world...
And she did...
So, the day we brought her home (that's another story alltogether), imagine our excitement, just at the prospect of putting her in there... In my head I had already pictured the scene in my head, complete with whoops of delight on her part and proud expressions of the kind only parents can have (its an automatic reflex after becoming one) on our faces.
And it was sublime... The moment, when the initial excitement finally wore down and I we lowered her into the cot... She was asleep and we watched her, waiting for her to wake up and get excited... even if she would be up only for about half an hour...
Wake up she did, and one look at her surroundings made up her mind for her entire life. She hated it. She wanted to have nothing to do with that cot. In fact, over time, things got so bad, that even if we brought her close to the thing, she would start crying. She wanted to be on the bed, with us!!!
We were fine with that, in fact we were happy (I was a little afraid of crushing her though!). We were happy that our baby would sleep between us, and we made a little makeshift space between us with her special sheets, and special padding and special blankets and special pillow, just so that she would be comfortable and snug. And to her credit, she slept well... Right from the start, except on the nights when Colic attacked and shook the entire house on its foundations, she was an angel... What I had completely forgotten was that she was only gonna grow, and along with the growth came new movement, and along with the movement came kicks, gouges, pokes and little punches in the middle of the night...
When they say Daddy's little girl, it is not unfounded. I don't know why, but right from the start she took a shine to me... something I still can't figure out. As soon as she started moving, she started shifting more and more towards me... until finally it got to a point where she would take over my bedspace, making me twist and contort my body just to get some space...
I generally stayed up for the middle of the night feed, which was at about 2:00 am and then slept, just so that Shonali could have as much of a full night's sleep as she could get, and be up for the 5:30 am feed. What I found out then was that Divya, my darling baby was a morning person... I would often get up with her pulling my hair, or sticking her wet thumb into my eye. burping, passing gas and generally being satisfied with her existence. The funny thing is that I would wake up smiling, even with no more than four hours of sleep every night for those first six months. And that too was interrupted very often in the middle of the night because I would find that I was being kicked, beaten and poked, all within the span of those four hours within one single night.
The funny thing is, I loved it... Every morning, when she would wake me up, I would just give her the widest smile ever, and pull her closer to me, almost into me, and she seemed to fit perfectly with her head resting under my chin abd her legs raised up on my belly! At that moment, It would feel as if I had attained everything there is to attain in the world. Nothing else mattered...
It was our routine, our special time, the mornings, pure love, pure bonding. The first person to see her smile was me, the first words she said clearly were PAPA, the first person she sang with was me, and the first person she applauded was me. I think those mornings had something to do with it...
Even now, she wakes me up every morning, Only, she is more vocal now, but the excitement on her face upon seeing my eyes open is still the same, as if She's found a secret stash of hidden sweets, and she is not going to share....
And me, Well, I protest, but she does not give in, She climbs over me, pulls my hair, kisses and hugs me, shakes me, slaps me, till I wake up and we share another day full of music, laughter and fun... A day full of secrets that only the two of us share, unspoken words that only come with unconditional love... And it makes me wanna say to her
"Divya, If this how you are going to make me feel for every day of my life, I am glad you don't Let Papa Sleep."
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