Pleasure of baby-sitting

Tending the grandchild can be quite a pleasant, exhilarating experience.

Had it not been for the 20-some days sojourn of our grand-daughter from Mumbai with us, demise of my beloved father few days ago could have fell harder on me and my wife. More than a care taker when we both were away on errand, we enormously benefitted from his far-sighted counsels and genial manners. My married daughter Silogi’s wish to share her feelings towards the departed soul with whom she was deeply attached, and shared the bedroom (a signboard at the door read, Silogi & Dadu’s Room) before marriage, coupled with the need for second medical opinion after her ineffective abscess surgery in Vasai, a Mumbai suburban, drove her to us in Delhi with her 2-month-old baby.

Silogi’s hospitalisation meant a 24-hour care taker at home for little one’s upkeep, a job I happily accepted for multiple reasons: my wife could not miss her teaching duties in examination season; I was officially retired (read, free); and my retainership in a charity together with tight writing schedule were not important enough to others. All were sure that with high tolerance level and willingness, I shall tend the fledgling happily with full love and appropriate care without demur. My son Utkrisht who came from Sydney to pay his last homage to his grandfather was my occasional reliever, a job he did with unbridled enthusiasm. At times when he held the abdomen of little angel up between the fingers of one palm, and swirled her up, others got scared. After he affirmed as biomedical engineer that such position was medically befitting one, they were assured. The exhilaration writ large on little angel’s face in bizarre posture was just indescribable.

The puerile chores I performed included checking whether she was wet; swinging her in various modes to help her sleep at scheduled hours; preparing the feed timely. Feeding operation was rather technical; I held the baby in one arm, ignited the oven, boiled the measured water, added the solid feed, and mixed it thoroughly so the solid particles do not disturb her mood or its ingestion, also ensuring right temperature since an error on higher or lower side could spell trouble. The moment I held her in my arm and proceeded towards the kitchen, she could anticipate the serving plan and her screams would give way to a calm posture, which intrigued me every time. When asleep, she had to be guarded by heavy pillows along two open sides to ensure she does not fall off from either side at break of sleep. Dirty clothes had to be washed and let dry forthright since the stock was limited and due to humidity it took unusually longer to dry.

The most gratifying gesture the little angel radiated was the sweet smile at my uttering full-throated ‘Om’ upfront of her. Otherwise also she smiled for no reason when one affectionately stared at her provided she was well fed.

At an informal get together after Silogi was duly relieved from hospital, someone commented and others endorsed of my having done the great, fortnight long job of baby-sitting. I just expressed my gratitude for the God-send opportunity of serving the little angel, and in the process, raising my dampened spirits due to earthly absence of my father. I wonder whether it was a direly needed divine plan to boost my sagging morale those days.

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Published in The Hitavada, Edit page 8, on 26 March 2020 (www.ehitavadaa.com)

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