Speak.From the heart….

She hurls her tiny frame at me when I pick her up after school. She is elated, jubilant almost. For almost a week now, she has been waiting for the elections to the School Representative Council. She even has a speech down pat. She will make a speech along with the other contenders for this post. The girls will then vote for whoever makes the best speech. It is this voting part that has filled me with dread. At that age, you vote mostly for who sat next to you and whose blue eraser you liked the best. A speech about “fixing problems” isn’t exactly going to win you love and favours and votes. Young love and childhood friendships are very fickle things – they grow and morph everyday much like the little souls that house them. Like the weather, they are as unpredictable as the whims of fate and chance.

So, I do the Mommy spiel. And tell her that she is brave for wanting to try this out. At which she tells me that there is nothing very brave about putting your hand up for what you have always wanted to do.

“It will make me happy in the end if I get elected. So, how is that brave? I am just doing things that will make me happy” – perhaps every generation redefines bravery, pushing the boundaries and redefining landscapes as we trudge along.

So when she hugs me and says “Guess what happened today!”, her eyes a-twinkle, her giggles belying her happiness, I tread with caution. “Umm, did you have the elections?”

“Yeah, I did and I spoke too. Except, it was a different speech!”

“Different to what?”

“Different to the one I had planned.”

“Right. Ummm, was it good?”

“It was better. Because I decided to speak from my heart. And I did! And then it was so easy”. This being said as she points to her heart. This being said as my own heart expands and quivers all at once, for a part of me lives through her and her journey is mine too.

“And?”

“And I won!”  I swear, the sky is bluer, the grass is greener and the chirping of the girls from the playground sounds happier. I hug her tight, my squeals mingling with her excited chatter. I offer her a treat but those with great responsibilities have important tasks to take care of and she is already planning on the things she will have to do.

“What did you say?” I ask her when my euphoria has allowed a bit of reason to creep in. We are lying in her bed, sharing the things that have made her day and mine. The air is humid, the stars are bright and the crickets chirp noisily even as the moonlight douses us .

I notice that she didn’t say a number of things that she had originally planned.

Before I can ask, she puts me to rest, “Did you know that when you speak from your heart, you don’t always need to say everything?”

The night sky turns purple. And in the silence that follows, I hold my daughter’s hand and let my heart thank her for life little lessons.

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Back…

Back from my holidays – regular/irregular/erratic posting to commence soon 🙂