I’ve met someone new. New, not just to me, but to the world. Only a couple of weeks new. A tiny person, a person nevertheless.
He has ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes, this cute little angel-doll person. He is laid at the center of a bed, covered tenderly by the softest blanket about the size of my towel. His eyes are shut, hands rolled up tightly into little fist-balls. His small legs do not lay straight no matter how much I try to flatten them out. His spongy, pudgy wrists are such a contrast to my bony, hard ones.
The poor creature has his first-ever cold; his breathing is disturbed and irregular. Yet, he sleeps. Like only a baby could.
Occasionally, he opens his eyes and we call out his name. It is probably just a strange noise to him. A noise he has not yet learned to recognize as his own. A noise that in a few years, will become his strongest identity. He smiles his mysterious smile and goes back to sleep.
I wonder what he dreams of. I wonder if he knows things that I don’t. Maybe he knows the secrets of the universe. Maybe he knows of a galaxy, far, far away, where dreams are woven and sent to us at night. What is it that he knows that he will soon forget, like the rest of us, when he learns to speak?
I do not wish to stop looking at him. Maybe, I think, if I stare at him long enough, I can break the barrier of words and join him in his word-less realm of knowledge. Maybe I could let him teach me, if he would consent to do so, that is. How wonderful it would be to have this little creature as a tutor, who has not yet been afflicted with the maladies of being human.
Sumitra Madireddy is a blogger and aspiring freelance writer. More of her thoughts and words can be found HERE.
Do you want to write a guest blog post? And see if your writing can make it to the book Mind Blogs 2.0, the sequel to Mind Blogs 1.0? Then go here