Milk pilli

My nephew Karthik calls in saying that he wants to talk with Icy. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Icy is still a baby and that she can’t talk yet. So I adopted a baby voice and softly cooed a hello. He was over joyed. He replied “Helloooo cutieeee” going weak at the knees and blushing like a bunch of roses.

“Are you shy karthik?” I heard his father question him.

“Just a little bit” karthik replied. My brother laughed heartily. Fatherly pride echoed in his laughter. 

“you should not be shy nanna. Come here. Talk to Icy. She is waiting on you” he said encouraging his son to get vocal.

“cuite, how are you” karthik strikes a conversation.

“I am goooooooooooood” I replied in a mock Icy voice.

“What do you like cutie? I like cars, trucks and sky scrapers” karthik shared his interests.

“Wot aare sky..scra..pers? I questioned innocently on behalf of Icy.

“Come to Canada. I will show you” he offered. “We can go on a picnic.”

“Ooooo…kay” baby icy replied. “mayyyy..beeee…neeext…yeeeear.”

“You know Cutie! I can speak te-lu-gu too” he boasted. “Niku te-lu-gu vas-ta-da?” he questioned.

Icy “Ummm”ed.

“What do you like to eat?” he asked perhaps to make sure that he serves her the same when she shows up at Canada as their guest.

“I? I eeeeaaat oooonly miiiilk” icy replied.

Karthik guffawed for what felt like eternity. Finally when he was catching up on his breath I asked him “what is so funny nanna? Why are you laughing so much?

“Cutie sounds silly atta” he chuckles. “She says she eats milk” he giggles again. Addressing Icy he says “cuite! We don’t eat milk. We drink it.” That made all the three of us go bananas once again.

“I eat pizza, macaroni, pasta, cereal, lemon chicken, eggs, prawns, pappu annam and pe-ggu annam” karthik showed off.

“When you were a baby you too had milk all the time” I spoke up in defense of my daughter. “Icy is too little to eat these stuff karthik. Her tiny tummy cannot digest anything but for milk” I explained. The word milk hangs in the air for a sec before karthik cracks up again. 

He thinks of Icy as a mini version of Tom who fights with Jerry over a bowl of milk. The wise mouse puts a straw-in-a-straw and drains out the bowl of milk in a single gulp. Tom wakes up just in time to find a last drop of milk hanging from the whiskers of Jerry. He hurries to mouth it banging pots and chairs on the way but jerry manages to suck it back just in time. Karthik rolls on floor laughing at his imagination.

“you know what? I am not going to call you cutie anymore. I am calling you milk pilli” he rechristened her.

It's her first time

                                                                 It's her first time

Vihaana rolled in her uncomfortable bed with a fore boarding that consumed her like wild fire. She opened her blearily eyes reluctantly to face the fateful Friday. Tonight is the night. Will she be alright? Phew! She hardly knows. She is twenty and one. And it's her first time.

"Don't you worry sweet heart. I had been there where you are. I know how you feel but it's going to be fine" her sister coaxed her. She spent the rest of the day with her kin, behind the mask of a smiley face. As if she has not a care in the world. As if she is totally upbeat with the whole thing but doom clawed at her like a crab that refused to let it go. She felt a jitter creeping down her spine as she witnessed sun dipping at the horizon. She braced herself for the longest night of her life.

The clock spread its arms welcoming her to a hug. 9.15pm. It's about time. Her chaperone, the dame in a figure hugging blue frock walked-in to "prepare her". Whatever it meant! Before she drew the curtains and stripped her, vihaana chanced a glance on the blades of the razor and a spray. Vihaana cursed this royal treatment. “Heck! I can dress myself” she thought acidly but she never voiced it.

Dressed in the pink gown vihaana felt anything but beautiful. Yes! It's a skin friendly fabric, the kind her wardrobe is piled with, the kind which never beg for attention but this backless pink gown ensured the mandatory skin show. "Will it hurt when he puts it in? May be just at weeny bit". She kept her fingers crossed.

Vihaana sat bolt upright as he traced her spine with his fingers. She could not remember her zombie walk or the sealing of the doors. His smile should have pacified her twitching nerves but she is far too calamitous for that. The walls seemed to zero on her, knocking the very breath out of her. She felt a chill running down her spine, more out of fear than out of cold. The lights were blinding when she squeezed them shut sending a pearly tear drop on a voyage down her cheek.

'Why can't he put me to sleep before he proceeds with his ways?' she wondered for she heard of the ways to put a woman in to a deep slumber so that she cannot perceive anymore pains or fears. 'May be they aren't safe' she had an afterthought. She gripped herself protectively.

"Relax vihaana" he said in his best soothing voice. She tried with not much of success. "Trust me! It is not as bad as you think it is" he cajoled her. She did not trust him but she felt her shoulders slackening nevertheless. "Let me play you some melodious music. Won't you like some Ilayaraja hits?" Without waiting for her response he added a few romantic numbers to his playlist. But all that she could hear is her own heart plummeting in her ears. He encouraged her to wipe her tears and to curl in to a ball. She felt a jolt of pain but then a warm tingling numbness engulfed her body. She lied down safe with the knowledge that it is just a matter of minutes before she can hear the cries of delight.

When he is through with her vihaana knew that he is right. It is not as bad as she thought it is. Yes! She couldn't double over her ballooning tummy. How the hell did she curl in to a ball? God only knows!  For a moment there she had to grind her teeth when he inserted the needle in to her spine. But then, the med took over. Vihaana thought "This doc knows his stuff right". She spent the next few minutes truly without a care in the world, trusting the docs with her life and as she predicted she heard the delightful cries of her newborn who is delivered the same way as Julia's Caesar- A caesarian section.