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My little yellow bird

January 31, 2008

I look at her today and wonder- is this really my little yellow bird?

 There she is, standing before the crowd of students reading out her first writing. She has spent the past one week hiding away papers. and finding the meaning of words from me, without making it too obvious. She has spent the afternoons, in the empty corner of the study and busied herself in drawing my picture. she has used different colours- blue, black, red, yellow and tons of others. she has tiptoed into my room, while I was working and taken my picture from the album. It has been a busy week for her.

And now, she reads out her first work- it’s about her favourite person, her sister. I thought I had failed to make her understand that like others, she cannot write about her father. she has the vaguest memories of baba. at three, she had learnt to deal with his absence and all this while, I felt I had failed to make her understand. But, she knows. perhaps, more than myself.

She smiles at me. she is wearing her little barbie watch that I got her. She stands straight and utters each word clearly and confidently. her teachers are right, I think to myself. she does speak a lot like me.

As she reads out her final sentence, I love you api.. I fight back tears of pride. I fight back tears of this inexplicible joy and sadness.

and I stare at her lovingly- my little bird has grown up. and today, I pray silently, under my breathe, may all the happiness in the world touch her and all the hurt and life’s bitter ways stay miles away from her…

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One comment

  1. That is a very nice read.



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