As cheesy as it sounds, I call my 2 months old nephew “Junu”.
Etymologically speaking, it is a cutely distorted form of “Jaanu”. And, jaanu he is! Not only for me but also for my entire
extended tasteless family. We address
him with so many names (Kaanha, Chochu, Choti bitiya, Atta boy, Naanu, Kaaku) that
perhaps only a Punjabi family is capable of; the meanings of all of which
converge to a lovely, delightful tiny human!
Like an obsessive and super proud family unit, we monitor and
discuss incessantly each and every activities of him. The highlights of our
days are his rolling by 60 degrees all by himself or the way he stretches his feather-like
body! Everyone keeps a count on the number of his daily burps, yawns or the
little inaudible noises he makes.
We ask him random questions through the day and believe that
our little genius has the answers to all of them. But, invariably he does
answer our questions – his ear to ear smile is a yes and his disinterested look
is a no. Judge us all you want to, but he is pretty consistent with his
replies. Every single time!
That’s my champ - a fast thinker, an intelligent
analyst and an honest man.
Ever since he is born, he has enlightened me in more ways
than one. I have started looking up to his parents; whom earlier I never thought
worthy of much; primarily because they are his creators. And also they have
done something which I couldn't do till now; not that I am trying any bit (!).
The way his cute little tushy endures the pains of
vaccination injections (damn you, doctors) teaches me resilience; the way he
expects milk from his mother’s breasts every single time he is hungry teaches
me optimism; the way he clutches my fingers as soon as I touch his hands makes me
appreciate the power of expressing true love and the way he makes nasty faces when
I do certain things on his belly teaches me to how to convey discomfort without
having to think twice.
He is so many things wired together in such a small
frame. A child is indeed the father of
man.
I clearly remember that the first time I looked at his
innocent face, touched his tender body; I knew there could be nothing as divine
as him. Only later did I realize that he had indeed wetted my pants with his
urine; but instead of being cranky, I accepted it and thought there was still some angelic quality (pH?) attached to
it. I think that’s what ‘maasi-hood’ does to you.
It may sound funny but I think he completes me. Right now I
am insanely, over the moon happy that he has happened to me.
He is so delicious. Next time I am home, I plan to eat him
up.
