Poila Boishakh 1417

April 15th was Poila Boishakh. Bengali New Year.

The night-before, I was feeling depressed. The next day, I was going to go through another one of the dubious first's...my first Poila Boishakh without my DaddyDearest.

But I do wish everyone a Shubho Naboborsho. Forgive the delay. May you and yours have a year full of love, laughter, good health and make precious memories.

I made one on that day itself...

Both my boys are huge Krishna bhakts. I think all little boys are. They identify with his naughtiness and impish escapades.

Now, as is the trend in these parts, whenever the boys in this house watch a movie or hear a story that they like, they argue amongst themselve as to who is going to 'be' the hero of the piece. The most brutal fight my two sons have going between them most days is who gets to be Krishna. The fights involve a lot of kicking and screaming and the end result is someone often ends up in a bundle of tears...not me, I'm usually reduced to a mass of electrocuted, frazzled nerves by the end of their matches. This is one fight that The Nephew stays far away from. He has wisely chosen to 'be' Balaram, or rather, the EO 'suggested' that he be so since he is after all the eldest, and he sweetly complied.

Anyway, on Thursday, I was lazily moping around the house. After I finally got my butt into the shower, I wore my bright, new bandhni, skirt from Jaipur; sky blue and sunny yellow with big silver chumkis all around. When I opened my bedroom door, my little YO came rushing in excitedly. Why? Because he had (or rather his ayah had) tied a tuft hair on the top of his head. He loves doing this whenever he gets the chance. Why? Because he is Krishna of course!

So, he rushes in excitedly to show me his Krishna-style and stops in his tracks, totally thunderstruck. He looks me up and down...totally in awe. He then asks me, "Tumi ki poyeychho?" (What are you wearing?) And of course he answers it himself, "Shkaartsh?" (Shirt?) He can't take his eyes off my and gives me his shy, imp grin.

What he does next, stuns me. He shyly takes my hand and says "Esho, esho" (Come, come) and leads me out into the sitting room, to show me off to his brothers, who are engrossed in TV. Then he tells them excitedly, "Dekho, dekho! Amaar mumma ki pohechhey, dekho!!" The EO and The Nephew give me a cursory once-over, smile and zne out again.

The YO, still with a goofy, shy, adorable expression on his face; still holding on to my hand; softly says something which I can't catch. I ask him to repeat it and he says just a little bit louder, for my ears only, "Tumi maiyaa aar aami Kanha." (You are {Yashoda} maiyaa and I am {Krishna} Kanha).

Tears sprang to my eyes at my little boy's sweetness and innocence. No wonder he was so dumbstruck when he saw me in a skirt that he immediately identified as typical of what Yashoda maiyaa would wear. And the coincidence that I should choose to wear exactly that, while he chose that precise moment to channel his inner Natkhat Kanha, was too overwhelming for him.

His joy and innocence just bubbled over that day and made me warm and tingly all over.

May the year bring on many such moments for us all.

And with that, I wish you a Shubho Naboborsho once again.