We fight, we cry. We complain, we escape. We talk, we stalk. We share (exception with food), we care. But all we do is rejoice.

August 17th, 7’O clock post few minutes, butterfly flew out from cocoon. Those tiny feet, small hands with clenching fists, snow white face with pink wet lips, small tiny nose. She was wrapped in a fluffy cream (coloured) towel. She was just beautiful little angel with a demonic noise of cries. Never knew she would become such an important person of life.

She was chubby, to be specific her stomach was chubby. It’s quite normal that she was totally opposite of her elder sister. First three months were normal all trouble was given to mother but later it was not the case. Still remember each and every moments of hers’. The way she cried, she laughed, how she sat etc. It’s not wrong if said that it’s been reminded by mother. All those childhood days. Somewhere it hurts listening to the mischiefs we all did back then, those golden days are gone and never comes back in life. Now it’s all about “studibilities” (study+responsibility).

3 songs were enough to feed her 3 meals a day. One song, she on mothers lap, mother with bowl of food. Five minutes as soon as song ends her bowl would be empty. It was surprising but funnier too. She used to be so full such that once she is done, she used to stick to the floor and not bludge with her chubby stomach. But if she smells the scent of fish fry, she would never forget to get one for herself even after a heavy meal. Small pieces of fish in her tiny hands directly moving to her mouth. That bitch used to enjoy cartoon with her favourite sides from her childhood.

She loved her family a lot. Other than her family everyone else were her enemies. Just a touch from other person would annoy her a lot. And that demonic cry was gonna play. She was a melodrama queen from birth. Looks like some born talents can’t be avoided.

Years flew so soon, now she is 17. All the old days are wrapped in album. Whenever we untie it, all those memories flow back in with lot of other stories narrated by mother. Every single picture has its own story with drama as genre. She is still little baby girl to the family and will always be.



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