I HAVE ALWAYS IMAGINED THAT PARADISE WILL BE A KIND OF LIBRARY

I HAVE ALWAYS IMAGINED THAT PARADISE WILL BE A KIND OF LIBRARY

Thursday, January 22, 2015

A DIARY OF A BABY GIRL



AISHA'S DIARY...! 

(From 6 Months To 12 Months Old)



9th July, 2012, when 6 months old

Dear Diary,                                                               
Salam

I am a paali-jaani-guggie, though my official name is Aisha Alam. 

I was born on 9th January, 2012 in Frankfurt am Main, Germany.

At the moment, I am 6 months old and I have only two big desires in my life: lots of milk and lots of love.

It is my contention that mama should be ready to provide me with milk at all times and even a moment delay is intolerable. Even if she is one second late with my milk, I create a lot of fuss and noise. By doing this I ensure that she feels guilty and stressed out that she was unable to give me my heart’s desire. However, when I finish my milk I forgive her with a smile and a gaan and reward her with a burp full of milk on her neck.

I expect loads of love from both mama and papa. Not only do I require countless huggies and kissies, but I also want ceaseless attention. During the day I want my mama to stay within my sight and talk and play with me all the time. In the evening, when papa comes home from office I want him to focus all his attention on me and me only. That doesn’t mean that mama can take a break from me. Even when I am on my papa’s lap and getting all his love, I still want her to look at me continuously and keep giving me smiles and love.

Even during the night, I keep reminding mama and papa of my presence. Not only do I disturb them a couple of times with demand for milk, but I also frequently wake them up from their slumbers to ask them to put my pacifier in my mouth or give me burps. Actually, these two things are only an excuse to get huggies and kissies during the night. While it is true that they sometimes tend to get a little cranky by this habit of mine but I have found a way to get around this too. I just melt their annoyance by giving them a wide smile and saying grrr gaan grrr...and by doing this I get even more love than ever...!

It's just that I love mama and papa so much that I want to spend every moment with them. That's why I keep them on their toes throughout the day as well as most of the night, so that they take care of all my needs and provide me with unconditional-everlasting-intense love.

What can I do? My appetite for love is immense; it’s zillion times greater than my capacity to drink milk...!

I have full confidence that both mama and papa love me very much and their lives revolve around me and me only. I enjoy the fact that my wah wah, guun, agaan, gaan, gaan, grr, grrr, gurrr, gaen, gaen, aan, eeeurrr, ahen, ahen, yeeh, yeeh, ho, ho, ho, hey, hey, hehe, hehe… are the only tunes on which they seem to dance all day and night long. I am happy that my one loving smile is enough to remove all of their exhaustion; my one naughty glance is enough to bring a smile on their faces; my one happy giggle can make them laugh out with joy and my one innocent touch fills their entire senses with love and happiness...!

Everyone who reads this entry, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz

PS: The first nickname that mama bestowed upon me was "hain hain hain" but the reason for it will always remain private between mama and me...!



25th July, 2012, when 6 and a Half months old

Dear Diary,

Salam

I overheard mama and papa talking about what to do with my "Kinder Geld". It seems that in Germany, the government pays a small amount every month to parents to help them to buy things like food, clothes and diapers etc for their kids. This is known as "Kinder Geld", that is, "Children's Money". Mama wants to save this money for my future; to buy jewellery for me or to invest in my education etc. Papa says that he may have to spend that money on my upkeep as stuff for kids is very expensive in Germany. Personally, I dont care at all about money. As long as mama and papa love me and I get my milk and food on time, thats all that matters to me. Of course, having lots of toys to play with is also very nice but I dont require money for that...! All I need to do is to give papa a huge smile and say gaaaan aaaan gurrrr...and he says "oh mera haapu gaapu...!" and gives me anything I want...!

By the way, I have a perfectly good name: "Aisha", (it means: Life, Vivaciousness, Liveliness, Living Prosperously, Youngest wife of the Prophet Muhammad [pbuh]) but for some reason mama keeps calling me "guggie-jaani" or "paali-jaani-guggie" and papa usually prefers "haapu-gaapu" or "lucy". Which reminds me, people are usually very confused about the spelling of my name. You see, in German alphabet, they dont use "y" and pronounce "j" as "y". Also, mama and papa checked out an Islamic website and found that both "a-y-e-s-h-a" and a-i-s-h-a" are correct spellings. So keeping in mind that I am a German national and may be spending most of my life in Germany, they followed their personal inclination and decided on "a-i-s-h-a". 

Ok, now I have one amazing news to share with you: I started turning by myself on my stomach since I was 5 months old and now: I can crawl...! The only thing is that no matter how much I try to move forward, I always end up going backwards...!

Another development is I am no longer just a tiny-milk-drinking-baby. Ever since I was 4 months old, I started eating vegetables and fruits. Since I was 5 months old I have began eating fish and chicken as well. I dont have any teeth as yet, so I have to eat everything in the form of a thick paste. Even though I love to eat everything that mama gives me but I must confess that milk is still my favourite meal.

Now, I would also like to tell you about my admiration for the medical profession. It began when my doctor told my parents that not only its normal for babies to make 'noisy spit bubbles' but its also important and good if I do it. As it indicates that my hearing is normal. You see, I started making spit bubbles since I was around 4 months old. And even though mama and papa were inwardly quite amused to see me having so much fun, but initially mama at least, half-heartedly tried to explain to me that its bad-manners to do so. However, since that visit to the doctor, instead of trying to stop me, both mama and papa have actually started to encourage me to make as many spit bubbles as I want...!   

I have noticed that adults sometimes tend to take their hands and feet for granted. Unlike them, I always thank Allah for making me a complete human being, MashAllah, and I show my appreciation by giving a lot of attention to my hands and feet. At the moment, I am concentrating more in trying to learn to crawl properly, but until recently, one could have usually found me licking my hands and waving my legs in the air and holding my feet in my hands and trying to bring them towards my mouth. I started doing so since I was around 4 months old and mama was very proud of me because she heard someone say that I was very advance for my age as babies usually start doing this when they are 5 or 6 months old. I must say that its very easy to make mama happy with me. Anyway, once or twice, I even put my foot right into my mouth...! I dont go around saying this since I dont want others to be tempted to eat me, but just between us: I am really very tasty and delicious...! 

Hmmm...I wonder what mama is doing? Oh, writing an email on computer, is she? Really, if one doesn't keep reminding parents of one's existence, they tend to neglect one awfully...! I better go and admonish her that my next meal is only an hour away...!

Everyone who reads this entry, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz



9th August, 2012, when 7 months old

Dear Diary

Salam

My latest achievement is that few days before I managed to put my pacifier back in my mouth by myself...! However, my pleasure was short-lived as I heard mama saying to papa that they should now quit me of this habit of pacifier. Really...! For all grown-ups pretend to be so sensible and wise, but at times parents can be quite foolish. I mean, why start me off with something if they need me to end it later? Now they will make me give up my pacifier, just when I have gotten so used to it and have learned a new trick with it too ...!  Believe me, they wont find it so easy to rid me of it...! I can be extremely stubborn when I want to. After all, even the best of the parents have to be constantly reminded about who the boss is...! Though of course, I love mama and papa very much and maybe eventually I'll be kind and sweet enough to sacrifice my pacifier to make them happy.

The other day my mama was wistfully wondering if it were possible to have me sleep on the bed with her as then she wouldn't need to keep getting out of the bed during the night and going over to my cot to see if I am well or not. You see, I move about a lot when I am sleeping. Not only do I behave like a dial in the clock, but I also act like a swimmer in the ocean trying to escape from sharks...! Sometimes, I also make tiny mewling sounds like a kitten, which brings my mama rushing anxiously to my cot to check if I am fine. The funny thing is that I sleep through all these movements and noises, but my mama, who is a light sleeper, keeps on waking up and checking upon me. However, papa firmly rejected this notion of my sharing their bed and said that I will get in the habit of sleeping on the bed with them instead of sleeping in my cot on my own. They both agreed that it will be bad for the long-term.

I have noticed that adults are usually very concerned about the long-term. It seems to me that they sometimes spend so much time working towards a better future that they fail to enjoy the present. Unlike them, MashAllah I manage to enjoy every moment of my life, without worrying about the future. And I dont even require material things to make me happy...! If I can't get hold of a toy to play with, then I just have fun with my hands and feet or my mama's hair or papa's lips...! That's why I often have a few strands of mama's hair in my hands and papa had a one-day-old scratch on his face near his lips during an important meeting with the country managing director.

Anyway, all this doesn't mean that I lack toys. My parents and their friends have ensured that I have plenty of toys to play with. There is a small dolly with the sweetest of smiles, and a horsy who makes a squeaky sound when I squeeze it. Then a red beetle who has a cherry-like nose that I love to take in my mouth and a smiling half-moon that makes a chan-chan sound when I move it about. There is also a soft ball with lots of soft spikes. I hold one soft spike in each of my hands and put another in my mouth. Then a musical turtle with wheels. And a huge white teddy bear that papa gifted me on my birthday when I was in the hospital. However, most of my play-time is spend on my spiel platz (play pen) from which different animal-type rattlers hang and I hit them with my hands and feet, accompanied with flashing lights and music.

Well, now I would like to end this entry with the same request that I always make: Everyone who is reading this, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz.



25th August 2012, when 7 and a Half months old

Dear Diary

Salam

I am MashAllah blessed that it's not just mama and papa who love me so very much. The rest of my family and all of mama and papa's friends are also very generous with their love and compliments. It is also quite normal for women on the streets or sales-women in the stores to smile at and praise babies, so I get my share of attention from them too. However, now I would like to share something really amazing and special. The other day, while we were out shopping, an unknown man, commented favourably on my legs...! He said that I have: "extra lange beine...!" (very long legs...!). MashAllah. It's a very big compliment...! For one thing, men dont usually pay much attention to unknown babies but he actually noticed my legs...! Of course, one reason for that could be that I move about my legs a lot when I am reclining on my stroller. Another reason why its such a big deal is that having long legs is a beauty attribute shared among top models...! Anyway, I was both shy and thrilled at the same time. Mama and papa were amused but I could tell that mama was secretly quite thrilled too...!

Being born in a hi-tech era, I do not believe in letting distances keep me apart from my loved ones. Every Sunday I talk to my maternal grandparents on Skype. My naina (maternal grandmother) usually prances around, wearing bright-coloured clothes and making noises resembling birds and cats. At first, I just used to stare at the computer screen in amazement. Now that I am a bit older and better able to understand, I find her behaviour quite amusing. My naina is surely very talented as mama and papa cannot make such realistic animals sounds...! I love my naina...! When my mama was recovering from her C-Section operation after giving birth to me, it was she who came to Germany and helped to look after me and guided my inexperienced parents in taking care of me. So anyway, sometimes, I even put on a show for their benefit. I rattle different things hanging from my spiel platz (play pen), then turn on my tummy and do push ups and even make sounds like gaaan, haaan, ho...! It pleases my mama, and my naina and nana become quite excited and proud of my achievements. Apart from skype, I haven't met my nana (maternal grandfather) but I have grown to love him too. Moreover, I am sure that he is a very sensible man. I have come to this conclusion because every time he sees me on the computer screen, he just keeps on saying how much bigger and cuter I have grown. MashAllah. Anyway, I enjoy all the attention and fuss made over me. Really, I cannot help feeling sorry for 'pre-skype-babies'. They sure missed out on a lot of fun...!

Speaking of fun, on 19th August, 2012, I celebrated my first Eid ul Fitr, a Muslim festival, that comes after a month of Holy Ramadan. I got lots of gifts and eidis. It was very hot so I couldn't wear my purple-hello-kitty dress but instead dressed up in another lovely pink frock. I also wore a gold bangle that my naina had gifted me on my birth. We went for a one-dish lunch at Rabia anee and Irfan aqaa's house. Khizran anee and Wajeeh aqaa were also there and their son Danish entertained me for a while by clapping and shaking my half-moon toy. I was sorry that we couldn't get together with Ambar anee and Kasim aqaa too as I missed playing with their sons: Basim and Haris. Overall, I behaved quite well but towards the end I got a little cranky as it was really very hot and I was feeling very sleepy. Anyway, I had an enjoyable Eid, though papa was a bit upset that I didn't have coloured bangles and mehendi (henna). He says that he will make sure that I put it on my next Eid. I don't know what mehendi (henna) is but I must admit that I am really looking forward to it, especially since I heard mama say that babies can make lots of mess with it...!

Well, now I would like to end this entry with the same request that I always make: Everyone who is reading this, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz




9th September, 2012, when 8 months old

Dear Diary

Salam

Most people observing my daily routine and behaviour might accuse me of being extremely demanding. I plead guilty...! It is true that I have many needs (feeding, burping, changing diapers, bathing, grooming, massaging, playing, talking, singing, kissies, huggies etc etc etc) and I insist upon them being taken care of at once...! However, to consider this description of me as complete would be quite unfair. There is another aspect of my personality too. I am a very loving daughter and can be quite considerate at times. I am claiming this because when I wake up in the mornings, I mostly wait patiently for my mama to come back from a quick trip to the washroom, before changing my diaper and giving me my breakfast milk. During those ten, fifteen minutes, I usually never make a fuss but instead remain in my cot, quietly saying grrrr, grrrr, rrrr, hey, hey, ho, ho to myself and play with my hands and feet. When my mama finally comes to me, I welcome her with the widest of smiles and kick rapidly on my mattress which is an indication that I want to be immediately picked up and given a huggie. Another example is that recently, when mama wasn't feeling well, I spent most of the day playing with myself without disturbing her or demanding her ceaseless attention like I normally do. I did not howl even when she was an entire quarter of an hour late with my food as I did not want to make her headache worse but instead I just made tiny yelping noises to remind her about my meal-time. And every night, when papa comes home from office, I always give him a little time to freshen up before trying to leap into his arms and ask him for kissies and huggies. So you see? I am really not a difficult baby at all...! Well, not always, anyway...!

All right now, moving on to another topic. The other day, mama was reading a book called: "Can You Keep A Secret?" by Sophie Kinsella, and this led me to think about a little secret of mine. Yes, I have a secret too. One that I am now going to share with you. Being a Muslim baby girl, I should not be afraid of anyone or anything except Allah. But I am. Afraid of certain things, I mean. 
Number One: I am afraid to sleep in pitch dark. That's why mama and papa leave a shaded lamp switched on throughout the night.
Number Two: I am afraid of sudden, loud noises. The other day when I was taking an afternoon nap and our neighbours started drilling in their apartment, I woke up and started crying.
Number Three: I get scared when a lot of people come close to me all at once.
Number Four: I feel a bit frightened when I discover that I am in someone's arms other than my mama or papa.
And number Five, which is last but definitely not the least: I have a fear that mama and papa might leave me all alone by myself. Whenever I notice any one of them leaving the room, I twist my neck completely and try to follow their moving form through my eyes for as long as I can. And when they finally go beyond my line of vision then I start yelling for them to come back. That's why mama makes sure that she leaves the room only when I am distracted by my toys or absorbed in some activity.

Well, this is it. My confession. In black and white. Just between you and me. And everyone who reads this. Ambar khala (mama's friend in germany, who loves me a lot, and has asked me to call her 'khala' instead of 'anee') once called me a "darpoko maasi" (in english: scardy cat) and I am ashamed to say that sometimes I can become that. I dont want to be. I try not to be. But I am, sometimes. I wish I were more like my naina who is a very feisty and gutsy woman. Not exactly as reckless as her, you know. But enough like her so that I can be a determined and courageous person when I grow up. 

So anyway, I was feeling very disheartened thinking about all this when my mama noticed my gloomy expression. You know, mothers are wonderful..! They are so perceptive. They sense without telling them that something is wrong, they can even find out what it is, and they know exactly what to do to make one feel loads better...! Mama came to me and gave me a long, tight huggie. Then she whispered a tiny secret of her own. It turns out that she is afraid of certain things too. For example, cockroaches. And all creepy-crawly-flying insects. She is afraid to even kill them. And when they are dead she is too scared to throw away their 'dead bodies'. I must say that her confession cheered me up immensely. It seems that I am not an only "darpoko maasi" around. There's even a bigger one in our family. My mama...! Afterwards, she comforted me and I comforted her. Then we made a pact. We decided that we will both try to fight and conquer our fears together and help each other become more confident and courageous. After all, really brave people are not those who are not afraid of anything, but are those who have the strength to confront and overcome their fears. So everyone, please look out...! I am not going to be a "darpoko maasi" much longer...! InshAllah. I am soon going to turn into a "bahadur guriya" (brave doll) and make my papa proud of me...!

On this note, please let me end this entry with the same request that I always make: Everyone who is reading this, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz

PS: Before, whenever I spoke, I used to lay emphasis on letter "g" (gaan, agaan etc) but since last week I am focusing more on "k" (kaa, akaan etc)

PPS: Besides "hain, hain, hain", "paali-jaani-guggie" and "haapu-gaapu" I have acquired a new nickname from mama which goes like: "moonie-noonie-moonie-noonie-loonie-moonie-noonie..." OK. I think you must have gotten the gist of it by now...!



25th September 2012, when 8 and a Half months old

Dear Diary

Salam

As I have mentioned before, I enjoy licking my hands and feet a lot. And mama never used to mind as long as I didn't put my hand in my mouth while having a meal. So I was completely taken aback, when she freaked out the other day, just because I was absentmindedly sucking my thumb. Now why should sucking a thumb be any different from licking my hands, I have no idea. But as soon as mama yelped out: "Aisha...! No...!!!" Well, I did what any normal, self-respecting baby would do: I sucked harder...! At 8 and a Half months old, I may not be very experienced. But I am MashAllah quite intelligent and observant. And one thing that I have noticed is that parents seem to prevent their kids from doing a lot of things that are fun. For example, innocent pleasures such as sitting constantly on laps, yelling, making mess, pacifier, sucking thumb, touching T.V and decoration pieces, grabbing cell-phones, watches and keys, eating candies and ice-cream, drinking cola etc etc etc are denied to us poor children. Well, ok. To do our parents justice, they forbid only such things that they think are harmful for us. And some that are not actually harmful but are considered bad-manners in the adult world. However, does that mean we children should take this suppression lying down? I mean, it's good to be obedient, but not without brains (to differentiate between good and bad on our own) and strength of character (to do the right thing and resist wrong temptations and injustice). Tolerance, kindness, negotiation, and reaching an acceptable compromise. That's the key to peaceful co-existence. So anyway, next couple of times when I defiantly sucked my thumb, my mama ignored me. Or distracted me by silently putting some snack like a piece of whole-wheat bread or a rice cracker in my hand. And you know what? When I saw that for some reason, my thumb-sucking didn't appear to bother her anymore, well, I finally concluded that it's not very enjoyable, after all. I would rather chew my new and yummy snacks that mama and papa bought me. And since the snacks are healthy and the habit of eating by hand is to be encouraged, I can indulge in my love for making mess by playing with them, putting them in my mouth and scattering the remains on the floor, all without mama complaining.

If I could ever meet the people who have invented shoes and socks, I will bestow upon them a huge smile of appreciation. Shoes and socks are source of great delight to me whenever we go shopping and I am in my stroller. You see, I am MashAllah, an active baby. Merely gazing at other people and products displayed on the shelves in the shops get a bit boring for me after a while. Especially since I don't get to touch anything. So what I do is that while mama and papa are engrossed in their shopping, I start taking off my shoes and socks and throwing them on the floor. I do it gradually, one shoe / sock at a time. It's loads of fun. What's even more amusing is when mama finally realizes what I have been up to. Whenever I see her scampering off, trying to remember all the places where we have been, collecting the shoes and socks from the various nook and cranny where I have dropped them, well, I simply crack up...!

Well, anyway, going on to my latest achievement. I can now sit...! MashAllah. But just for a little while. You know, even though I enjoy a lot of exclusive love and attention but being an only child and an only grandchild (from my mama's side) is not all bed of roses. The expectations are enormous. The pressure, tremendous. First the trouble was that I could not stay on my stomach for long duration. Then everyone was anxious that I could not crawl properly. Since the last couple of weeks people were stressed out that I could not sit. I tell you, it's one thing after another. Now I have barely begun to sit, and everyone is waiting with bated breath for me to stand. And run. And graduate from the top university with the highest scores. The other day mama was actually praying that I go to Heaven, after death. (Amin). You see what I mean? Oh well, I hope that I am no weakling. With the help of Allah, I will try to meet every challenge with integrity, courage, patience and hard work. May Allah bless all my endeavours with success (Amin).

Another development is that on 21st September, 2012, I saw my paternal grandparents for the very first time, on skype. It's very rare that I smile at someone at first meeting, but I could not help smiling at them...! I was just so happy to meet them at last.

By the way, I think that most of the problems in this world maybe due to inadequate communication skills (both on the part of the speaker and the listener). Really, it's amazing the mis-understandings and the confusions that can be caused by a mistaken perception of even a single word. Let me give you an example. According to mama, I may be the only baby who has begun saying "pa, papa" before "ma, mama". However, what's frustrating for both of us is that she thinks that I am addressing her as "pa" and she keeps telling me that she is not "papa" but "mama". Like I don't already know that. What she doesn't realize is that the reason that I keep saying "pa", "aappa", "papa" is because I want to show her that whereas before I used to emphasize on "G" and then "K", but now I have learnt a new letter "P"...!  

All right, now I would like to end this entry with the same request that I always make: Everyone who is reading this, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz



9th October, 2012, when 9 months old

Dear Diary

Salam

The concept of 'giving up' is totally alien to my nature. I firmly believe that if the faith is strong, the intention pure, the will invincible, and the cause worthy, then with Allah's help, one can always achieve success. It is also my opinion that if one method to attain one's heart's desire fails then a human mind is fully capable of coming up with an alternative plan, without resorting to dishonest means as a shortcut to gain.
I am speaking somewhat from experience.
My destination was a black wire hanging from one end of the laptop charger attached to the socket in the corner of our living room.
The biggest obstacle was that I could not even crawl properly, let alone walk.
However, I did not let that discourage me. I began dragging myself towards the object of my desire. The problem with that was that I just kept spinning off in another direction or ended up moving backward in a haphazard manner. Eventually I did manage to reach a corner of the room. Unfortunately, it was not the correct one. By now, a less determined person would have been distracted by easily accessible toys scattered throughout the room. Or would have been led astray by the brightly coloured book that had fallen from the sofa onto the floor. Actually, I did send a second and even a third glance to the book when I remembered how much fun it had been to chew the glossy pages of the magazine the other day. But then mama picked up the book and started reading it. Oh well, maybe some other time. After all, there was no lack of books and magazines in our home. Besides, I am a very focused individual.
I wanted to chew that wire.
For some reason, I have become very fascinated by wires.
I just hope that my family and friends are broadminded enough to stomach me as an electrician...! 
Though of course, I am reasonable enough to accept that I am far too young to make a major decision like that at this point in my life, and should first see the rest of the interesting things that the world has to offer, before committing myself to specific career path.
Well, coming back to the original topic...
Nor was I cowed by mama's strictly uttered "Aisha...!" or the accompanying 'warning look' that she bestowed upon me. My wonderfully perceptive mama, at least where I am concerned, inspite of being engrossed in her book, instinctively sensed that I was in a naughty mood. Though thankfully she had no definite knowledge of my actual intentions.
So anyway, I took a tiny break and racked my brain. Surely I could concoct some scheme that would enable me to reach that wire? A sudden idea illuminated my mind.
And I started rolling through the room. 
First I would turn on my tummy, then on my back, then again on my tummy and so on. Halfway across my destination, I became entangled with my spiel platz (play pen). You know, the one that has a colourful mat with pictures below and animal-type rattlers etc hanging from the four supporting poles. If I were not so stubborn, I might have lost heart at that point and given up. However, the phrase 'obstinate as a mule' was coined for people like me. In fact, I am sure that the only reason people use 'mule' instead of 'baby' is because they do not want to scare off potential parents. 
Anyway, I was not going to let a minor set-back prevent me from chewing that wire. I thought again. Sometimes one also needs a bit of family support to accomplish one's goals. One should never be ashamed or hesitant of seeking assistance from a loved one and always be generous with one's own aid whenever required. I let out a loud howl that caused my mama to jump up from the sofa where she was enjoying her evening tea with the book. She soon freed me and put me in my car-seat. I yelled again. Really, sometimes the efforts of even well-meaning family members can be a source of hindrance instead of help. It took few tears and some more mournful wailing to make my mama understand that I wanted to be put back on the floor.
I once again began rolling towards the wire. I turned on my stomach, then on my back, then again on my stomach, then again on my back and then just as I was again turning back onto my stomach I bumped my head against the rocking car-seat that was next to the sofa. I didn't want to attract mama's attention so I suppressed the urge to yell out in pain. Instead I gritted my teeth and began rolling again.
I wanted that wire even if it killed me.
By the way, when I say 'gritted my teeth' I am speaking figuratively. I have only two teeth. And even they are not properly grown as yet. They started to grow about two weeks before. I know this because ever since two tiny white dots appeared on my lower front gums, mama started making me open my mouth wide and peering inside to check.  She does this about six to nine times a day. Now that they are half-way up, she spends hours trying to take their photo but I either don't open my mouth wide enough for the camera or happen to close my mouth at the wrong moment or my tongue seems to hide my teeth. She finally managed to take a couple of photos but she is not completely satisfied with them. However, being my mother, she hasn't given up, and is still trying to take a 'perfect' photo of my teeth. Honestly, I think that mama is more excited about my first teeth than I am...!
But I digress.
As I was saying, I continued to advance towards that wire. I was almost there. Then I got stuck halfway under the sofa. Ignoring my predicament, I tried to yank at the wire and then stopped. Mama had seen me. Blissfully unaware of my intention, she thought that I looked cute and took my photo. Then she freed me and went back to her tea and book. She had put me back on the floor within touching distance from the wire. So I grabbed at it and put it inside my mouth. I was just beginning to chew when mama let out a startled gasp.
I was caught in the act.
To say merely that mama was 'not amused' would be a gross understatement. Her sense of humour and overwhelming love that usually comes to my rescue when I am indulging in an activity that is considered inappropriate in the adult world was sorely absent from her demeanor on this occasion. The sobering truth was that mama was genuinely horrified. I was secured in the knowledge of mama's unwavering love, and yet, not being used to having her scold me severely, my face crumpled up, my lips parted, my mouth twisted into a beginning of what would have been an agonized bout of crying, and a tear started to sparkle in my screwed up eyes that looked at mama with a wounded expression. But before I could make a single sound, I guess mama started feeling remorseful because she abruptly stopped, apologized and hugged me. I felt solemn as I realized that she had been provoked into an uncharacteristic outburst because she had been afraid that I might get hurt. I instantly forgave her with an innocent smile and lovingly cooed "akaaaaan". She sighed and hugged me some more. 
Then she pointed at the wire, tapped on my hand and shook her fore-finger, several times, all the while saying, 'no, no, no'. I guess she was trying to follow Khizran Anee's (mama's friend in Germany) admirable advice on how to raise me so that I become as well-mannered and obedient as her son Danish. As if I was going to be so easy to discipline. It's not that I condone defiance and rebelliousness. It's only that I am a high-spirited girl with a mind of my own. A strong, intelligent and independent mind. And an indomitable will to fulfill passionate desires. My heart is tender and loving though, and I can be extremely sensitive. Combine all this with the fact that my parents adore me, and that mama in particular, hates to see me cry, and even though tears appear to have no effect on papa but a smile and an innocent look can work wonders with him, and well, I envision some tough times ahead. For my parents. I think mama realized all this because to be on the safe side she also took out that charger from the socket and put it back inside the cupboard. She deemed it harmful for me and didn't want to risk me getting an electric shock. 
I am not aware of what is the usual reaction of a person who has managed to achieve his dream after immense struggle and then have had it snatched away from him. All I know is that I immediately vowed to myself that I will wait for the next time when mama or papa forgets the charger in the socket. No matter how long it takes.
I will have that wire again.
Couple of days later, papa left the cell-phone charger in the socket. Moreover, it escaped mama's usually vigilant eyes. Taking advantage of the unique strategy that I had devised, that is, rolling when having difficulties in crawling, I began moving towards it. But then I caught sight of mama's black walking shoes with the orange laces. I could hardly believe my eyes. Mama had forgotten to put them in the shoe rack. She must have been having an off-day. I laid down on my stomach in the middle of the room as I contemplated the unexpected situation. 
I looked at the cell phone charger with intense longing. The black wire hanging from one end looked so tempting.
I wanted that wire.
I gazed yearningly at the shoes with orange laces at the other side of the room. It's not that I am weak-of-purpose, easily-diverted baby. It's just that I don't believe in being obtusely rigid. Tenacious, I may be, but I know that sometimes it's better to be flexible and adaptable. Besides, I am certainly capable enough to recognize a once in a life-time opportunity when it's staring me right in the face. I mean, even if mama never leave her laptop charger lying about again, it's very probable that papa would forget his cell-phone charger in the socket repeatedly in the near future. Then there is a lamp on the floor next to the side-table in our bedroom. That has a wire. The pedestal fan and the radio clock also have wires. So I would have plenty of other chances of getting a wire. But could I depend upon mama leaving out her expensive shoes again? Besides, those orange shoelaces looked so appealing. I was sure that they would taste yummy.
I wanted to chew those orange shoelaces. 
I eagerly began rolling. First on my back, then on my tummy, then again on my back and so on. I was almost there. I crashed into the T.V rack. This time I decided not to miss out on a deserving huggie and kissie from mama. That's why I did not resist the impulse to cry. As expected, my mama rushed over and took me in her arms. I let myself be comforted in record time. I did not want her concern to lengthen into a decision to take me away to her side. Soon I was again on my way towards the shoes. I turned myself on my back with a stronger force than usual and hurt my head on the wooden floor. I gritted my teeth again, and persistently continued.
I wanted those shoes even if it killed me.
More to the point, I coveted those orange laces.
Mama was walking around the room, tidying up. I glanced at her warily, held my breath and hoped that she would overlook the shoes. A that very moment, she looked at the clock on the T.V rack near me, came over to me, gave me a quick kissie and went to the kitchen. Presumably to shut down the stove or something. Anyway, when she came back after few minutes, one shoe was in my hands and the orange laces in my mouth.
I gave mama a wide, happy smile.
I had been right.
The orange laces were delicious.
But next time, I will have that wire.
For now, I'll just roll over to where mama is and tug at her dress. She is sure to give me a tight huggie and loving kissies.
I need that huggie and those kissies.
And I know that she does too...!

Everyone who reads this entry, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz




9th January, 2013, when 12 Months Old / 1 Year Old

Dear Diary

Salam

It’s my very first birthday, and I am up in the clouds, literally, flying…! Well now, before someone’s eyes pop out of their sockets, after all, how can a 1 year old human being fly? I cannot even walk as yet…! So let’s come crashing down to the ground, only figuratively, please, as I am on an airplane, flying back to Frankfurt after my first trip to Karachi. Isn’t this great? I mean it’s true that I celebrated my birthday few weeks before, in Karachi, along with my cousin, Zunaira, who was celebrating her belated third birthday. But still, my actual birthday is today, and I am spending it on an airplane…! Anyway, I enjoyed my visit to Karachi a lot. Even though the first few days did feel a bit weird, with so many new faces ‘oooh-ing’and ‘aaah-ing’ all over me, but I was delighted to meet my extended family and basked in all the love and attention showered upon me. I feel very fortunate to be blessed with such loving and lovable family and friends. MashAllah.The only comparatively minor inconveniences were, the frequent ringing of phone just when I used to be on the verge of taking a nap, being restricted since the marble floors were considered too cold in December for me to be allowed to crawl freely, my nose remaining partially blocked throughout the trip, for which I had to be given saline spray and hot steam many times during the day, and sometimes even night.

However, all this was nothing compared to what my mama is going through today. She has been sick with flu and fever since the past several days, and this morning she actually lost her voice…! You must be thinking that it’s a matter of pot calling the kettle black, since I cannot speak either. Well, I at least can manage to communicate my desires and moods with the help of certain noises and gestures. Mama, on the other hand, is unable to utter a single sound. Moreover, not being a baby like me, she lacks the knack of conveying her message without words. When we were at the airport, just few hours before, a lady asked mama for her boarding pass. Mama attempted to tell her that her boarding pass was with papa. When that endeavor failed, she tried calling out to papa, who was in a different queue and looking the other way, but only a hoarse, strangled sound came out of her throat. Then she panicked and began gesturing wildly with her hands, all the while nodding her head and rolling her eyes towards papa. I guess it’s understandable that the lady, being a stranger, and having no knowledge about mama’s illness, was more than a little taken aback by mama’s apparently crazy behaviour. But I must mention that I was somewhat surprised with papa’s lack of response. Papa and mama may love each other, but I am sorry to admit that even after more than six years of marriage, they have not quite reached that high level of understanding that makes mental telepathy between spouses possible. It’s a good thing that I was successful in directing papa’s attention towards mama, so she was prevented from being locked up in prison or worse, a lunatic asylum…! Which, I later learned, had been her biggest fear at that time. Anyway, I love mama with all my heart and cannot bear to see her suffering like this. I pray that InshAllah she gets well soon (Amin). Being a Muslim, we should always maintain faith in Allah. And try to find a silver lining in the darkest cloud. Of course, I don’t mean to imply that there is anything to be happy about mama’s being sick and losing her voice. Except, well, since I am very near to the clouds at the moment, there is one positive thing that I have just happened to think of amidst these terrible circumstances: No matter how naughty I am, till she gets her voice back, mama cannot scold me…! Hmmm, it is wise to avail every good opportunity to attain worthy objectives. Even the mice will play, when the cat is away. Or like in this case, when the cat’s claws are clipped. Not that I am comparing mama to a cat or myself to a mouse. Not at all, though now that I remember, my doctor does call me a “mauschen”, a term of endearment that German adults reserve for babies and small kids, and which means, “little mouse” in English. Well, I better stop writing now, and indulge in some sort of mischievous fun…! After all, it is my birthday today…!

Everyone who reads this entry, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz




















  

9 comments:

  1. Awww how cute and adoring are all these entries :)

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  2. I hope the diary continue to make us happy for as long as I live. Naina

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  3. Very cute and enjoyable diary. I hope you give the diary when your baby girl grows up. She will surely enjoy it.

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    1. Hi Leela, glad to know that you enjoyed the diary :-) I also hope that my daughter enjoys it when she is old enough to read it! Thanks for visiting my blog and for your words of appreciation :-)

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    1. Hi Khan, really glad that you enjoyed the diary, thanks! :-)

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