Pardon me for being callous. I read hardly any of your poems or articles these days. My granddaughter is home, with her mother and grandmother from Scotland. I am in a different orbit.
She is all smiles all the time, except when she is sleepy, or in lip-smacking mood for milk. She likes you speak to her little nothings and responds expressively, making noises that are most appropriate.
It is not as though you spend all your time with her. God fills you to the brim and you have no more space for poetry.
*****
19 comments:
Wish you happy babysitting.
wow! baby sitting..
:)
congrations on the newly(?) acquired status of grandfather.
i was remarking to my neighbour the other day that infants seem to have evolved. even a week old babe seem to really look at you and return your smile - something which our children took atleat amonth to do!
Hmm Great great so grand pa is enjoying! we can all wait for your poetry and your comments Grand Pa :-)
Venu sir,
I know you are busy, and for once loving it.
However, I thought I should let you know that am in city for couple of days.
Lets see if we can arrange to see one another.
Regards
exploit!!
It is terrific. Not baby sitting, actually, but being life conscious. The day begins with me on tiptoe sneaking into her room not to wake her if she is asleep. Some days she is awake under the umbrella mosquito net, quietly wading into space with her little legs and arms and playing. And there is a new hurry now to get back home after work in the night. What I post in this blog used to be punched straight in either early morning or late night. These two phases of the day, there is no space in me now for poetry because she fills it even if I am not sitting by her side. I have been a father twice before, but being grandpa is different. I have become old and I now see life spread across a larger span than before, all seven colours glowing--pain, pleasure and everything. I see my evolution from childhood to youth to old age and I see it happening in all others around me too. In my grandchild I see the cycle beginning all over again. I have never been more in love with life, the whole process of it going on around me, including you, everything.
KPJ has a point when she says infants are evolving nowadays, how they are quicker than we had seen our children to be. I am into Aurobindo these last few days, reading a book on his 'Integral Yoga.' He speaks about how we had evolved over ages from the lowest form of life to this intelligence level. He says the man's ultimate destiny is his union with the immeasurable whole, the supramental Divine. This evolution is happening, inch by inch, step by step. That is why Sorcerer conducts his sorcery better than I could have ever done at his age. That is why Kalpana dreams such great dreams, Sumi is so invetive with her questions and our young doctor is such a deep romantic. I judge Prabhakar and KPJ to be of my own level, which is a step below all our young friends. This evolution is the hope of mankind and the world. In spite of all the madness we see around us, there is a silent undercurrent going on that is taking us to our ultimate destiny, which is total intelligence.
Visting here after a Long time. I see that the baby has arrived , and a grand daughter at that!
I see my uncles and aunts , new grand-father and grandmoms dote over their grand children with such adoration..i doubt if they gave their own kids so much love.
Have you named her?
Yes, we have named her Neha Liz Joseph. She responds to different names such as Malootty, Molootty, Takkidivatti etc, smiling teethless. Grandpas dot more over grandchildren than fathers do their children. Do you know why? I have heard or read someone say children are your biggest enemy. Children's children then naturally become your greatest friends. We strike a chord immediately.
Have a great time!
Malootty, Molootty...I'm quite familiar, but Takkidivatti? What's that? Sounds like 'akkidipatti'.
You can call her by any name. A name is a name is a name, by whatever name you name one. What happens when we name a person or a thing is a collasal constriction of the real, putting everything inside a mould. The name is a symbol and when we are caught in the bog of the symbol our perception cannot fly. But we are trained to communicate in symbols, perhaps that is the only way to communicate when there is no eye contact and the mechanical world in which live can function only if we convert everything into symbols and numbers and bytes. So we name our children, our grandchildren. I call her all the names that come to me when I see her because no name, no mould, no symbol can hold her and it doesn't seem to matter which name, mould, or symbol I have in me to speak to her who is untainted of words.
(Did you understand anything I said? :-)
Venu, You sound very much like a grandpa, wonder-struck by a delightful grand-daughter. These moments are to be savoured and are what make life worth living. However I find your latest comment quite intelligible. Like Cochin Hanifa says about drunks "This is poet's language.!" cheers and regards.
Am I supposed to? If yea, I did. If no, I didn’t. Howzaaaat!
The finger goes up! Out, leg before.
fair call, Isn't it?
Dear uncle,
i too wondered why venu uncle didn't read my blog.now i understood.
jasminnaur.
That must be a welcome change to be with your grandchild.
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