Versions of Me

Today, I visited another version of myself. A younger version, one that smiled without care and laughed uninhibitedly. A version that I had almost forgotten existed. You see, in the last six years I have become someone I never thought I would need to be.

It all started quite innocuously. Surfing through Netflix and Prime. Coming across an old movie, “Karma”. Watching bits and pieces of it and discussing favourite scenes with Sameer. Him, being him, insisting on showing me how several old movies’ iconic scenes were copied. And from there, going into the archives of my photo gallery. Ayana as a baby. How, even then, she was all over the place; jumping, climbing, running. Sameer and me, with black hair and chiseled jawlines, learning how to be parents.

And then, Aarav. His first smile, his first steps, his first words. We, beaming as proud parents of two blessed kids. Life, as we always hoped and imagined, was perfect.

But, as time moved, inevitably as it must, our faces and fates changed. The grief took form not just as a stone on our hearts, but also in the silver strands of our hair, the wrinkles on our foreheads, and the extra weight we carried, both within and outside.

Aarav looked at the videos of himself taking his first steps and became quiet. And Sameer said, " Okay, it’s time to sleep.”

People tell me that Aarav’s soul chose to be born into our family. I absolutely believe that. Such bonds don’t form without karmic connections. What scares me is whether I will be able to live up to the task his soul has chosen me for. As we navigate his growing-up years, the battle between fear and faith seems to occur more frequently, and with greater intensity.

Don’t get me wrong, I have support- family and friends. They not only form a safety net but also prop me up when I am falling apart and give me a much-needed kick you-know-where when I am wallowing. But when the sun sets, and the babies are all tucked in, the reality is ours and ours alone. The fears, the hopes, the sleepless nights belong to us. As does every small victory.

I shall allow myself tonight. To remember what days felt like when my greatest worry was what to wear. To recall what it felt like to have the years before me, endless and so full of potential. To remember what hope felt like, absolute and pure.

And in the middle of all this remembrance, I shall send up a prayer. If He has brought us this far, He must have chalked out a path ahead too. We just need to believe.

सब्र.              शुक्र.                सबूरी.

Patience.        Gratitude.       Faith.

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