For my Champ !

I remember standing on the terrace the day you were born. As a four year old, little did I know what was happening around though I did know that my prayers were to be answered soon [u see, I used to believe in god at that time]. Reliable sources tell me that I used to pray rigorously for you, even when you were unborn. And then, in a minute, you came in this world and our lives. The little bundle of joy, all coochie-coo. You know as soon as I heard that you had arrived, the toy with which I was probably playing broke and a little drop of blood came out of my finger, and I thought, what kind of a baby is this?
Nonetheless, I was too excited to brood over that droplet and in a matter of seconds was jumping hysterically, celebrating your arrival! Yes…my brother was here.
You made me a big sister all of a sudden….and babies out of the three of us.

Your little chores took the nature of paramount importance for us. Bathing, sleeping, your massage routine, the relatives pouring in, and yeah..the incessant crying of yours. Hope you haven’t forgotten every pic of yours is drowned in tears. Admit it dude, you were a cry baby!! But whatever you were, you were a darling, the rosy pink cherubic features attracting many a femme fatales at that time…alas how you wish.. [ I know, I know ;)]

Seasons changed, but what remained constant was our shell. The small shell in which we were growing, we somehow never wanted you to outgrow these moments, so we wrapped you in a cotton ball, saving you from any scratch possible. Little did we know that this one could turn out to be a great handicap for you. Holidays homework, models and charts along with countless other paraphernalia, I was the accomplice in crime. We just assumed that you were too young to do your stuff, to finish off those complicated drawings, to color those minute figures, so I readily offered my help and you got away with it.


Its here and we are here.
You know as I see you everyday, fighting with all your power, the little and the big questions that life throws at us. I want to tell you that I understand you. I want to tell you that I am as scared today as the day when we were standing at the school gate watching you mixing with the toddlers, a school bag on your little shoulders and tearful eyes. I was scared of letting you go just like that, without me to protect you, to assist you, to pick you up lest you fall. But I had to let you go.
I want to tell you, that I can see what’s going on in your mind; the ever-changing contours of your mind-scape aren’t unfamiliar. I know what you think, why you think like that and what your aspirations are. But you know, a time comes in ones life, when one has to let go. Let go his past, his duties, his obligations towards others and work for himself. As a weak offspring of a sparrow doesn’t brood over the fact that its own mother threw him out of the nest, it has to concentrate on the flight, the journey, the path and the goal. And quite soon, it realizes that the throwing was done to teach him how to fly.
I want to tell you that it’s never easy for the mother-sparrow to throw a life she has nurtured so painstakingly just to teach him flying, but the risks have to be taken. The wings have to be spread.

You have grown up to spread your wings and touch the high skies of unlimited potential and growth. The statue is complete; the soul is left to be induced. Do you want the sparrow to lament the fact that it wanted its child to fly? Or would you flap your wings, do a somersault and rise high? Do what is necessary, do what your heart says, but don’t let the sweet memories turn sour. Your nest will always be there for you to come back home after a hard day and sleep. 