logic

Daivik was nibbling away his food, left elbow stationed on the table, head bent slightly, and unusually silent.  Now, quietness and Daivik usually do not go together.  I could infact sense something going on in his brain. Sure enough,  he started off.

"Mummy"
"Yes Daivik"
"You have a watch that is glittering"
"Yes Daivik"
"The coins that the pirates take from their treasures is also glittering"
"Yes Daivik"
Hmmm, I was wondering what exactly was he arriving at when he made the giant intellectual leap. A glittering watch in real life and the image of a glittering coin in a picture book can be pieced together.

"So Mummy", he asked, "were you pirates before?"

Yes, Daivik. We were. That is exactly how we are financing you.

some more pages

Some of you asked me why I'm not writing enough about Daivik's little sister, Akshara (18 months). No real reason, so here we go :

Continuing the theme of one day in the life equals one page of this mysterious book, here is a look-back on few more random pages, in no particular order.


***
It has been your favorite game  for a while now, lying on the floor, face-up and looking at things from a hundred and eighty degrees. Upside down lateral inversion is apparently funny. So you position yourself on the floor when I'm having dinner and call me out. I look down at you and smile. You flash your magic smile, now filled with five pearls, three in the top row and two below. You realize that I'm eating something and you want it too. You signify your intent by raising your arms. I offer you a rice waffle, admittedly not one of your favorite snack. I have no idea how a  rice waffle looks when viewed  upside down and turned 180 degree. But evidently you understand what it is. Without moving an inch from your position, you turn your head sideways firmly to tell no, this is not what I want and start protesting that you want something else.

***
It is dinner time. You are perched on top of your high chair. It is the only occasion when you can communicate with us at an equal height, without having to strain your neck. Your brother is, as usual, making a fuss with his plate. We trying to alternatively  cajole, convince, threat him to get the food down his throat. He is obviously not too keen  and out-of-the-blue says something very funny without quite intending it to be. Your mother and I burst into a spontaneous laughter and your brother, not quite understanding why we are laughing, nevertheless joins in. You are busy with your food, smudging and smearing it on your face, on the hairs, on your chair, on the table, everywhere. You are distracted by the sounds of the laughter, look up and look at each of us individually with questioning eyes. Then you pause, let out a smile and start laughing too.

***
Ever since you took your first steps, there has been no looking back to the days when your primary mode of transport was by using all four limbs. The switch was both abrupt and dramatic. Another lesson to learn from little children : how to effectively leave the past behind ! Now, one big advantage of walking on two legs instead of crawling on all four is that it leaves your hands free. So you can, for example, carry things.

You bring the spider-man mask of your brother and insist that I wear it. Do you even know what it is ?
I wear it and your father is transformed into something you don't recognize. Right away you take a step back. Instantaneously, your lips purse, your chin trembles and your eyes swell as you start to cry. I remove the mask, and as if by a switch, the cry transforms to a laugh. But then you want me to wear the mask again. I wear it and you step back and start crying again !

disc dosa

The pan should be hot enough now. To just the right degree. Rashi tests it by sprinkling a bit of cold water. The little droplets sizzle up as they encounter a hot flat surface and noisily bounce around, simultaneously shrinking at an alarming rate. Very soon, they vanish into a nothingness, leaving behind a final hiss and a little vapor  Rashi judges it as hot enough. She takes the batter, pours it in the pan and expertly spreads it around in a circular motion. It makes a perfectly round dosa, 15 cm in diameter and 2 mm in thickness. The batter itself has undergone a fair amount of soaking, grinding and most importantly fermenting over the last 48 hours to reach its current stage of near perfection. A few minutes later she turns the dosa over. This is a critical moment of truth. If the preceding preparation has been correct, it will show itself now. Sure enough, the whole thing comes out in one sweep and as she turns it over, it shines with a golden brown hue. She turns off the heat. Now as the pan cools at a predictable rate, the dosa will become crisp. And stiff. Like a disc. Like how Daivik prefers. Like how superman would want.

She takes the dosa to Daivik and puts it on his plate. "Here is your disc dosa", she says, sporting a satisfied smile. He gives a disinterested look, takes an ant sized bite and says "yuck". To rub in extra salt, he adds "I don't want this, I want bread". 

call everybody

'Daivik, come let's have dinner'

'Daivik is not here'

'who is here'

'This is spiderman'

'Spiderman, come for dinner'

'This is also superman'

'Superman, come for dinner'

'This is also fire engine driver'

'Fire engine driver, come for dinner'

'This is also police'

'Police, come for dinner'

'You have to call everybody, otherwise how can we come?'

'Spiderman Superman Fireengine driver Police, come for dinner'

'Okay, I'm coming'