I believe that everything in life is pre-written, destiny. We play the characters according to the script, as handed over by the Supreme Storyteller.

During the last few days, atmospheric temperature in our city had been consistently dropping below 10° Celsius. The oddly cold morning weather made it difficult for me to get out of the warm cozy blanket. In the past half hour, my phone’s alarm kept buzzing every ten minutes, and each time, I had put it to snooze. Finally, I was awakened by the  sound of ringtone. The call was from my Mother.

It was unusual. Our daily conversations began only when I was on my way to the office. Today had to be something different.

Hellooo…

Hello, Prasan.

Haa ma

Are you still sleeping? Asked my Mom

I said Yes, why, what happened?

Are you not going to office?

My whole body felt numb. I wanted to stretch my coiled body, but I couldn’t. In complete blindness, I looked at my dreaded enemy. The time was 06:06 hrs. I had overslept again. Subconsciously, at that point, I knew that I would be spending extra money buying lunch from the restaurant. I could have saved a fortune by now, only if I had acquired cooking skills earlier in life.

Whatever Mom informed will ever be engraved in my heart and mind. The call had been disconnected. My initial reaction. Disbelief.

I tried reaching out to all the important people in my life. Some of them answered, some of them didn’t, and for those, whom I couldn’t connect, for them, I dropped messages, informing about the latest development. Later in the day, I was going through my phone’s picture gallery. My intention was to relive all those moments captured by the lens, specifically looking at certain memories.

Memories relating to, such as but not limited to the wonderful days I spent with my soulmate. I was excited to browse through the numerous photos of togetherness. It was surreal. I came across these photos of our wedding, when I had met hundreds of well wishers, and yet, I could barely take my eyes off her.  I was keenly looking at all the photographs which highlighted the lovely companionship with my beloved wife. She has stood beside me, rock solid, through thick and thin.

The timeline of pictures just kept moving. I realized that in the last few years I had more pictures in my phone’s memory than that which could have been possibly stored in my mind’s hard-drive. The data was huge, and there has not been a single day when I had bothered to relive those moments. Why would one capture all those pictures only to look at them few instances in an entire lifetime?

As I navigated through our memory lane, I came across the very first picture of my Son. He had been wrapped in all cotton, thick and warm. He looked so annoyed, probably very upset too, and I laughed within. He is amazingly opposite now, a charmer, same as his father. Then there were these photos of my Son growing-up. My wife had been sending me adorably well themed photographs for each month elapsed. Month 1, month 2, month 3, and we had named our Son, Aarav.

The pictures of the naming ceremony was heart warming. Aarav had literally been so calm in all those photos, and boom, I came across one, where he was crying. In month 4, he had nearly learnt the art of rolling-over, I had a rather long video made to capture this achievement. Unfortunately, he never rolled-over that day. He was successful only a few weeks later. On completion of 5th month, my wife had actually depicted the number 5 in the form of well arranged diapers; Aarav had been lying besides, full of energy, full of curiosity. By month 6, we were able to see his first teeth mushrooming, the lower incisor. He had learnt to crawl as well. By the end of 8th month, he was walking around with the support of home furnishing. By this time, my wife stopped taking decorated pictures of each elapsed month, probably because Aarav was hyperactive.

It was such a wonderful sight to look at Aarav smiling in his sleep. I would place my face close to his, and simply relish on his imaginations, he would give me a smile every now and then. It was as if he was half asleep, existing in both the physical and meta-physical worlds.

At times, he would feel boredom, but mostly, he would be occupied in his own fantasy world. When I returned home from office, I would be invited to contrasting emotions. For one, I would be ecstatic to watch Aarav get completely excited as soon as my wife opened the door, wherever he was in the home, no matter whatever game he’d be engaged in, he would come to the door speaking in alien language. My happiness was visible in those small moments. I couldn’t be convinced with any other joyful attribute in life. The playful smile of Aarav filled exuberance in the air, evenings were for pure transparent love. On the other hand, I would take time to make Aarav understand that his act of ransacking the home needed to stop. Each toy at a time, every kitchen utensil at a time, the batteries of the TV remote, the cordless telephone, pencils, pens, the flower vase, the magnetic stickers on the refrigerator, my office documents, and so on.. I wouldn’t be mad. This is why kids are known to be innocent.

I had spent my entire day, grabbing happier moments in bits and pieces. All the pictures to me looked like unfolding art; a timeline. Human lives are similar when it comes to creating new art called memories. It is a joyful experience to go back in the time machine, rediscovering moments which have made us what we are today.

In the telephone call, Mom had excitedly informed me that Aarav was blessed with a younger brother.

The timeline is set to zero again. 🙂 Part 2

*Pic – Aarav

*Poetry – Inspiration, now and forever….