Lying on the bed I could feel my son’s leg in her womb. Every night I could feel the feelers sent by him – the kicks and his wriggles sending ripples across her tummy and those were the days on the verge for he could come out any point. Right from those days we could hear an elusive baby cry….a shrillness that peeks in to our ears reminding us of the days ahead. It was a baby in the next block SMR apartments who has just arrived. I believe it’s a SHE from her cries. Till today every morning we pry in the opposite apartment balconies to see the cloth-lines lined with laundry gleaming in the sun. We could never find a nappy or a tiny tee-shirt. The origins of the cry remains elusive but sound never elopes us.
Our son arrives and he lands here with an evasive companion awaiting him; whose companionship he is never coy to accept. This also means the days of duet cries are here. One starts…the other stops…..other starts…this stops….this starts…other too starts….and just mix-n-match the starts and stops a gamut of combinations and rhythms traverse the air between the blocks.
Once in a while his stifling squirming and cries get outs of hand; when our jabbers and pats just doesn’t work; when his face turns red as an apple of shouting we gently tell to him…oh! Boy look at that SMR girl how good mannered she is passing an indignant look on him. Then just when things get under control….we console him all that sweet chides were not for him…but for her 😉
Then once in a while when in a giggling mood we stroll with him in the balcony the cry flows from the opposite side and we spritz a kiss on him saying Ananthu is a good boy! And for this he may make a sound of approval….like Haaa!
At times when we put him to sleep or play with grandparents we start hearing the cry….deep in our mind we know its not his but still we walk to take a look at him and give him a gentle clasp in his sleep or play and then continue our chores.
So the days pass….he and his compatriot giving sleepless nights, timeless joy and a feeling of completeness in the house. Some day we will meet his friend and exchange confabulations till then their cries bond our evasive families through the air.
I hope the same story repeats in the other side of the wall too…..