Sounds so dreadful, isn’t it? You can imagine why I almost had a heart attack when I heard these words coming from Diya. I slumped in the sofa and managed to ask her about what happened and how.
We had been part of the same class (Carnatic Vocal) for some months and it was working out pretty well. And then one fine day she told me that she wanted to go in a different batch. ‘I get conscious’, she said. I understood that she wanted some space and would be more comfortable being on her own, and so we started going to class on different days. On the first day of this changed schedule, she came back home and dropped this bomb on me –
“Momma, today I was unconscious in the class.”
It was only after a few moments of indescribable torture that I understood what she meant 🙂
And also deal with the very long summer holidays 😉
(Helped Diya make this used curd box into something more presentable to keep her hair-clips)
FaceBake? Baked Face? what a name for a Bakery!
Came across this piece of paper while clearing book shelf in Diya’s room. This was amongst many other scribbled notes in her books. It reminded of my own childhood. I too used to keep jotting down what I felt and observed in my journal. But it was much later than her age now.
This is what the note says (translated):
One day my mom and dad were discussing about me saying that : our child would grow up to be a good child. I heard it and was very happy. I love my entire family very much.
(I guess she must have overheard one of those many conversations which A and I were having about her.)