Princess diaries

I just look at my almost six year old niece and wonder how time flies. All the videos I have of my princess show her in various ages. One of them as a baby, unable to speak and happy to be dangling from her mini swing, another one where she is in the best of make-up and requesting her father for a Barbie doll from his trip someplace and yet another where you’ll catch her dancing to the beats of a 2010 movie song. Girls always have this quality of grabbing certain instincts from a very young age. My niece knows every piece of make-up item on my dressing mirror and never thinks twice about showing off her dancing skills to strangers. Having been an introvert at her age, I think it is quite commendable.

My sister married for love. Not for fame, not for status, not for money. Just love. Sometimes I wonder if it really was the right thing. I was one of the enemies when the elopement took place. She had disappointed my parents and for me this was more heinous a crime than cold blooded murder. Run away? I could never in my dreams conspire to do such a thing. For me family pride and happiness meant everything. But there was this one occasion when I met a cousin who ridiculed my sister for her choice; this coming from a person who was a famed party animal and had not once made it to the list of ‘decent’ company. Of course he had married well in the end but did that give him a right to judge others?

“My sister loved a guy and she loved him so much that she stuck by him through the good and the bad. Yes her means of achieving this may not have been in the right place, but unlike people who are all over the place only to settle for the next best thing on offer, she makes me proud even today”.

I may have been harsh when I said these lines but I did and I am proud of it. At the end of the day, my niece is a reminder of what good can come if you have your heart set in the right place. She is a source of joy and pride. When she does her jhatka and matkas, I see reflections of myself in a closed room somewhere in the late 80s. When she says “I love you too Amchung” I don’t need anyone else to reassure me of their feelings. When she holds my hand in public and pulls me towards the nearest chocolate shop, I simply play along. When she runs into my arms and gives me a power kiss, it gives me faith and hope that it is what’s in your life that matters, no matter how or why. So when she sings newly learnt nursery rhymes over the phone while I grapple with my term paper at 10 pm tonight, she provides me with a much needed laughter session.

The happiness I get from the tiniest of things makes this life worthwhile. My niece is my blessing in disguise.