Six is the sweetest age

Six is the sweetest age. Not yet ready to leave the lap of childhood yet independent strong and vocal. Chasing butterflies one minute and looking longingly at high heels the next. Six is what my precious is today. She is saying goodbye to her toddler years, preparing to begin her education in earnest, starting to read, write and be enraptured by the joys of discovering things for the first time. Six seems like just yesterday. Six seems like the clock is racing. Six is one last morning cuddle before wake up time, six is choosing her own outfits no matter how mismatched they are. Six is pink, soft and fluffy. Six is ponies and Barbie. Six is having imaginary conversations with her dolls. Six is the immense pride in getting dictation words right. Six is friendship one minute, tears the next and six is one last swing or one more turn on the monkey bars. Six is peer pressure and wanting to wear what her friends are wearing to school. Six is a hasty wave before she rushes off to greet her friends each morning and complaining at 5.00pm that its too early to go back home from school. Six is resisting her bath each day, but once inside, refusing to come out. Six is questions and more questions about each and everything all around.

I hope the rainbows and ponies stay for as long as they want. I hope you never outgrow your princess pink phase. I wish for you to always see the world as you see it now, clean, pure, innocent and happy. I wish for you to laugh like you do now over the silliest things and take comfort in the fact that a hug from mommy will make the boo boo better.

I love to watch you sleep you know. I love to breathe in your scent. I sometimes hold your hand and just feel how soft you are. I pull up the covers for the hundredth time just for you to kick them off again and I never tire of picking up your tutus from the floor. I love Owly-Owl, Pinkie pony and Bambi too. The giant pink unicorn sheds its fur all over the bedroom floor and after you have gone to school I pick up the threads and smile thinking of how tightly you hugged it the night before.
Your choice of pink, pink and more pink for everything drives me crazy sometimes, yet isn't that what year 6 is all about? My heart swells with pride when you explain how the earth goes round the sun and I get teary eyed when you sing Jan Gana Mana in your baby sweet voice.

I realised how much you have grown today when you cried your heart out on getting a beautiful card from your grandparents in India. The depths of your feelings completely took me by surprise. You said you missed them and wanted them close so you could hug them and say thank you. That told me you were so much wiser than your six years. I have to let you go on your own paths soon. I need to let you find your way, overcome sorrows and heatbreak, triumph over disappointments and be tenacious enough to realise your dreams.  I am not ready yet to take that leap. Not ready to miss out on each and every moment of your life and certainly not ready to let go of your hand, but at 6 my love, you are readying to do just that. The meadows are still full of flowers and butterflies abound. Find your paths but still be the happy little girl you are now. Happy 6 years to you my precious, for six is still the sweetest age.

Year One

Everyone remembers their firsts, the first prize, the first love, the first kiss, first baby..., for me today it would be my first year in Montreal, Quebec. Tia and I landed here exactly a year ago on the 1st of December 2011, on a vividly sunny, bitterly cold and windy day. I was recovering from an illness, my body was travel weary and my heart was torn in two, leaving my parents and home and trying to put on a brave face for a future totally unknown.
In theory it seemed to make sense, but as I was packing to leave home and my parents, I honestly thought that I would snap in two. I was emotionally drained and yet I had to suck it up and try and brave it. I told myself in my mind that this was going to be a trial period. That I could always return if I did not like it, but I could see in my fathers eyes and my mothers embrace that they thought otherwise. They knew me better than myself.
It was a blurry experience getting off the plane, clearing immigrations and before I knew it I got a glimpse of the city from the back seat of the cab. The trees were bare, it looked so grey all around, yet there as a big bright sun in the sky. I remembered thinking that it looked so industrial unlike the explosions of color I was used to seeing in India.
Yogi was so excited to show me the home he had made for us and in his excitement forgot the passcode to the main door and we spent the next few minutes, shivering in the cold, surrounded by our luggage ( all 9 pieces) as Yogesh tried his best to remember the code and call up the concierge of the building as we stared dumbly all around us.
In due course, The code was finally entered and I stepped into a warm sun filled apartment which was to be our home from now on.
All I wanted to do was call my parents and lie down. That's what I remember of that day exactly one year ago.
 Step two was getting geared up for the winter. Shivering in my thin layers we made our way to the mall to buy snow pants, snow boots, hats, mittens, and parkas for Tia and me. I had absolutely no idea what to look for and it was a pretty stressful search for waterproof-wind-proof snow pants and jacket for Tia, waterproof-snow gloves and snow boots. Delhi winters had no way prepared me for the brutal Canadian winter. The wind chill made my eyes water and froze the insides of my nose. I could not feel my head and my temper was directly proportional to my discomfort.
Tia being a happy 4 year old then, was happy to skip around and explore her new surroundings oblivious of the discomforts and perils the winter chill.
Yogi insisted that I get a decent parka too and only then did I begin to thaw out. It turned out that all the good winter jackets and boots were sold out by the 1st of December. Canadians take their winter gear very seriously and waiting till the temperatures hit sub zero to buy the winter paraphernalia is not a great idea.
I was exhausted and jet lagged by all this shopping stress and thus concluded the next few days.
I realized how disconnected I was when I could not read a single road sign, or a single label at the shops. It felt so alien. People were warm and friendly all around, yet I felt handicapped by my lack of  French.
As days turned to weeks, weeks to months, I was welcomed by most people I met with open arms. My french failings seemed to be fading as I found my way around and got to meet and talk to people (gasp: in English ! ) Tia started daycare or GARDERIE as it is called here and I was bowled over by the sincerity and the warmth of the people and the system. Everywhere I went there was acceptance, warmth and an eagerness to accept a non francophone into their midst. I got to learn about the daycare system. I saw how much attention the kids get here and it was so easy to forget the chaos and crowds of school in Delhi. Tia started to understand French and pretty soon had a best friend. I found myself explaining to her about skin color and it color and how we are all the same regardless of how we look.
I started to address people with a hesitant 'bonjour' and took my baby steps to learning French.
The weather grew colder, the snow was magical. All around the houses seemed like in a fairy tale. Christmas came, we had a tree. Santa visited with some goodies and life began in earnest as I learnt to improvise, prioritize and give my everything to raising a happy healthy child. I was lucky enough to get work too and I attended evening French classes as the snow blizzards blew.
Yogi travelled for work in March and Tia and I were totally alone here for over a month and we managed it all. It was lonely without family and loved ones but it gave me tremendous independence and self confidence.
Among other things, I got to experience first hand, the good side of humanity. My wallet which I accidentally lost while picking up Tia was returned by a kind lady who found it outside the library.
I was overwhelmed by kindness and generosity. It was a valuable lesson on doing good to others and I have witnessed such small gestures pretty much all around me every day.
In the spring I started university to study the French language full time and I was amazed by the standard of teaching here. Punctuality, professionalism and commitment took on a whole new meaning. The teacher worked harder than the students to make the class fun and interesting. Centres of learning such as the university of Montreal are really like mini cities with state of the art technology to make life so much easier for the students and I truly fell in love with the education and teaching methods here.
I began communicating in French now and no longer felt like an alien from outer space.
In the summer my parents came to visit and it was the best time. Tia turned 5, as the city erupted in green and I explored the city and it's offerings of nature and festivals with my parents. Every weekend was packed as we played in the water, picnicked in the parks, ate fresh produce from the farmers market, went to music shows and festivals and tanned and relaxed with my loved ones all round, I had the best summer of my life. My parents liked Montreal as much as me. There was something for everyone to do here and there is never a dull moment. I made friends gradually. We party, we hang out, we share our weeks ad our food and our doors are always open to them.
Tia started kindergarten while I was away on work and Yogi and my mom were able to be there and help her get settled in the big school. She seems to be enjoying school a lot and her days are long, filled with sports, activities friends and work. I love the kindergarten activities they are doing a lot. I love the system and method of teaching and I love it that the kids are exposed to art, literature, music and books from early on. I like the sense of community and the idea of voluntary community service. It's a whole different approach to help and be part of the vast and diverse community we are all a part of.
A year on, Tia is completely Bilingual. She speaks the French language as a pro, I too can talk in French whenever needed, I can speak in French with the teachers in the school, I can read labels, understand local terms and feel like a local. I even complain of the cold like a Québecois!
A year on, I am no longer scared. It was a year of learning, letting go, exploration and discovery. I am used to breathing in the cold air, used to the convenience of the system, happy to use public transport and no longer afraid of a challenge. It was a time to focus on family and find happiness in the small things. Bonne annee to us and many many more to come. Hope we never forget the passcode to the front door again...

Glimpses of the city in summer

parc jean drapeau

Montmorency falls

Sprouting Wings

I held the sand in my fist with all of my strength. I could feel it trickle slowly past my fingers. I held on tighter...it slipped faster..till i sensed Time was playing its game with me. Its been 2 years and 10 months since i found my heart and today my eyes fill with tears and pride as i hover protectively watching it bloom from a bug to a brillaint and colourful butterfly.
My baby is ready for school. Tomorrow would be her first day at pre-school.
Its hard for me. Hard for me to let go. Hard for me to accept that she is no longer a baby. Hard for me to realise that she no longer clings to me like she used to.
Its a world of wonder for her to discover. A world filled with hope, excitement and possibilities. I want to be her guide along the paths she takes. I want to hold her hand and never let her fall, but i know that with every stumble, she would walk firmer, every bend in the road would reveal new discoveries and for every dry leaf she picks up there will be hundreds of leaves in the trees in a mosaic of greens.
I won't be there to wash her hands, help her with her food or tell her to wait her turn on the slide. I won't be there to wipe her tear when she cries or clap with gusto at her triumphs at school, but my heart will be beating a thousand beats for her from afar. I'll cherish each story, sooth each bruise and applaud each artwork that she gets home. I'll be the one standing at the sidelines with outstretched arms waiting for her. I'll be the one cheering the loudest at the races. I'll be the one with the one with the camera in front of the stage. I'll laud her efforts to stand on her own little feet and find her own heart song to sing.
Each baby step she takes, each new discovery she makes would make her an independent woman of tomorrow.
I can sense Time putting an arm around me drawing me in, urging me to believe in the things that i have taught her. I sigh, smile and think, my bug has grown and is ready to try out her brand new wings.