BABY,BABY

We had never been able to understand it. We in this case being my dad and I. Babies who had been smiling and gurgling until a few seconds ago, would take one look at us, screw up their tiny little faces, and let out loud wails which would bring their mothers running post haste. Moms would pick up their bawling angels, glare at us like we were foot soldiers of Genghis Khan and walk off in a huff, leaving us wishing the earth would open up and swallow us.

It has been a standing joke in our family that the two of us were guaranteed to make the most good-natured of babies cry. Dad blamed it all on his bristling handlebar moustache. I, on the other hand, had no such recourse. Wild stories made the rounds, fueled by none other than my mom, of me having dropped a baby just because it had dared pee while I was holding it. The fact that I must have been barely 7 years old and that I had “dropped” the baby onto a large fluffy pillow on a bed was conveniently forgotten. And to add fuel to the fire, I married a man who could make babies smile benevolently by merely crooking his little finger.

All that changed when I had one of my own. Suddenly, I was granted entry into an exclusive club. Babies will now smile at me and trustingly go to sleep cuddled up against me. And better still, I can now pick up and hold even newborns with panache. Moms who would not let me near their little darlings even at gunpoint, will now trustingly put them into my arms.

As I glimpsed the sleepy smile of my toddler outside the airport, it hit me. That what they said was true. There is no feeling in the world that can match having a baby smile at you.