Thursday, 2 May 2013

Unrequited Love

Shabdita has given her heart away. The object of her affection is literally that: an object.
It is the ceiling fan that hangs above our bed, and is more fascinating to Shabdita than all her toys put together. Often, while drinking her milk or playing, she will stop suddenly, look up, make sure it is still there, and then continue with whatever she was doing. If she is lying on her side, she will roll over to get a view, but will not go back to feeding until she has seen it once.
Sometimes she is in my lap, on our rocking chair, and I am talking to her and she is gazing at my face, in the intensely concentrative way that she has, smiling once in a while. She glances around the room. She looks at her toys. But none of this will do. She looks up. It is still there, weaving its magic by turning round and round, both motion and stillness. She is happy to see it. She can then give all of these other things her attention again. Her mother matters again.
Like all relationships, this one is not perfect. The object of her affection doesn't know she exists, and doesn't really talk to her. And her mother disapproves. I hope that the next love of my daughter's life, at the very least, does not look down upon her!