Ordinary morning in a ordinary man's life.

Morning dawned with cry of my two month old daughter. As I rub my eyes open, I hear my wife soothing and cuddling our dearest latest darling ( we already have three dearest darlings) with some sweet nothing songs in her gentle voice. As soon as she sees me, I am handed over the charge of the little angel and she pushes off for .... I rather say relieved herself of little angels' care and leaves the room. No words said. Simply understood that she had a tough night, while I remained in a dream world, oblivious of what the mother and child passed through the night. Still my eyes half closed, I hold my cutie pie. She cuddles up to my chest and her soft little fingers curls around my arms. Such tenderness, such softness, such abandoned helplessness brings freshness of the morning to my mind and brings back to life that were dead and withering in my grey mental self. If youth is the spring of life, infancy is the source from where the life begins its journey, and, it is the source of that ephemeral love that sustains and propels our life towards creation and sustainance of this whole universe of human civilization.

BANG ! I hear the bathroom door and wake up from this philosophical stupor to the reallities of life. I can hear my wife waking up my other dearest darlings with occasional sound of whacking up of their bottoms. This is it, I tell myself. Soon the house is filled up with noises of my favourite devils, their fights for the bathrooms and tooth paste, sounds of joy and excitement interspersed with occasional sob or cry. Than there is that deafening noise of my wife shouting at one of the child for his antic of remaining asleep even while brushing his teeth. Tempers cool down and those shouts are things of past and the children are cajoled into dressing up their school uniforms and finishing with their breakfast. My little darling also has her way of ensuring her share of attention by wetting my pants. At this, my four year old daughter Rinyi breaks into peals of laughter and other family members joins with giggles and smirks. At my expense, otherwise tense and serious atmosphere is loosened and the kids are all ready to take on the new day.


Father poor, you all may say as I am asked to dress up quickly and walk down our children to their new school by their mother. The power and terseness in her command would have shamed the best of the army commander. I dress up and gulp down few sips of my morning tea as she stares at the watch on the wall and me as if daring me to be late. Well, well, well .... I tell myself and leave my tea with such longing as would have shamed Juliet's longing for Romeo. I had a duty as father to take my children to school on time and duty as a husband to obey my wife without a question. My dream of life as beauty was transforming into life as a duty.

It is raining out side and my children are dressed in their raincoats. The sight of their raincoats gives me a tinge of jealousy as they are so pretty and tidy compared to dark and drab rain coats of my times. My daughter has a pink colour raincoat with a beautifull prints of puppys with large ears drooping by. Her face shows up pretty and beautifull like a flower in a garden.My son Pading, who is six year old is dressed likewise, only difference being the colour of his raincoat which is green. He is one naughty devil and is behind every prank that keeps the family busy. He is the sunshine, the freshness that keeps the family lively ... and on toes. My sight wanders and rests on my eldest son Dingyang. He has put on a raincoat which we bought two years back. He has overgrown it since and everything seems to be protruding. He tries to remind me I am yet to buy him a new raincoat by trying to button up his raincoat unsuccessfully. I take a mental note of it and acknowledge him with a nod.

My wife hands me her marketing bag to bring back their raincoats and umbrella and I tuck it under my arm obediently. I soothe myself by justifying that these are small things which I can obey, because when bigger decissions of life are made, she obeys me unquestioningly. Takes and gives have to be adjusted into the scheme of life to keep it on track. So much for my wisdom, eh.. I tell myself.

And lo ! we march to the new school my children have joined. As we proceed, my heart skips its beat umpteenth times as they tend to wander towards the middle of road after pulling off their hands from my grip. Splash ... my little devil Pading steps into the puddle of rain water on the road for the third time. Once again I tell him to keep clear of the puddle.... and there again he heads towards the next puddle. Such is the way with children.

On his return from school on first day, Pading had told me in a most spirited way that he had made two new enemies. When I asked how come he made two new enemies where as other boys make new friends in new schools, with a smirk on his face he tells me that a boy tried to mess up with him and in response he punched him till the other boy cried. Then someone from behind caught him and punched him. Pading turned behind and rained punches on the other boy. By then, class teacher appeared and separated them. They were let off with reprimand. He told me with much gutso and sense of triumph. Shall we say he started his new school with a bang!

Squeezing through narrow footpaths and fighting off the traffic we reach their school. As we hug, kiss, and wave our hands off each other and as they step into their respective class rooms, a sense of joy and fulfilment courses through my mind. "Oh! what beauty they are and how lucky I am to have them," I tell myself. But then, isn’t it every parents privilige to feel their love ones are the best. To a parents eye, everything else in this world pales away in the sight of their children. Thus, I try to rationalize my child like exuberance about my kids.

I come back to my wife with her market bag hanging heavy with children's raincoats and their umbrella clutched under my arms. I pretend as if I have been wronged immensely with a somber face. She gives a patronising smile, an understanding nod, pulls up a chair for me and asks whether I would like to have nimbu pani (fresh lemonade) with a mesmeric twinkle in her eyes. Like a pacified child, I give in to her magic and there another part of day begins anew. After all she is a female of species and understands males weakness and their unqualified egoes.

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This is a pen picture of a ordinary morning in a ordinary man's daily life. By the way, I came to Shillong on posting on 2nd May 2009 from New Delhi. My children joined their new school this Monday. This is all for now folks. Bye till I have another innocuous story to tell.