“Are you sure you don’t want to go to school?”, I asked her,
slowly pushing the hair off her face as she lay on me, hugging like a little ‘Koala’
or that’s what I called her every time she did this.
‘Nooo, ma-ma’, she said, her lip curling into a pout and
eyes welling with tears.
I kissed her forehead softly as I got up, lifting her slowly
and dancing around singing ‘kuchi kuchi raakamma’ in baby voice as Tara
chuckled.
‘It’s been 3 years and she is still entertained by that song”,
Sid laughed, busy making some orange juice for breakfast.
I looked at her smiling and admired how beautiful her tiny features
were (of course she didn’t look anything like me), as I wiped the little drop
of tear on Tara’s cheek and told her ‘Tara is such a big girl now, daddy and I
are coming with you to school today and let’s do a picnic lunch after school,
okay? Yay, picnic lunch at the park, woo-hoo!'. She smiled and hugged me again,
but this idea did cheer her up a bit.
Tara is now five years old and it has been three years since
she came into our life, and not a day has passed without all these cuddles in
the morning.
Two soft meows. “Ah, look, Fluffy is up”, I said.
Tara ran across the room to lift the cat, tripping over her
toy and breaking it accidentally. I picked her up from the floor even before
she started to cry, “You are okay, you are okay, do you want feed some treats
to Fluffy while I get ready?”, I asked Tara handing over some treat sticks for
our tom cat.
Forty minutes later, we arrive at Tara’s school, listening
to rhymes and singing along throughout the 15-minute car journey while we
braved the Bangalore traffic.
“Pa-pa, pa-pa”, Tara said, confusedly looking around as we
walked towards her class. “Papa is parking the car, he will be here now in a
minute, Tara kutti”.
“Oh, look Tara, here’s Jo ma’am”, pointing out to her favourite
teacher. “You are a sweet little girl, be a good girl in school today, and we
will pick you up soon for picnic, okay?”, kissing her cheeks, and I saw her
walk holding Ms.Jo’s hand, as she animatedly pointed towards her clothes and
shoes and talked to her with whatever little words she knew.
I was looking at her so proudly I almost didn’t see Sid
coming, until he tapped my shoulders and said ‘Let’s go meet the Principal”.
Mrs.Hiremath welcomed us with a broad smile.
‘We are glad that Tara is doing great in school, but we also
wanted to know if there’s anything more could do to help her feel more
comfortable?”, she said.
“I really appreciate the school and Ms.Jo especially for all
the efforts to help out Tara”, I said, humbled genuinely. “We are taking it one
step at a time, teaching her little things every day and making learning fun
for her at home, we take her out to the park to play which could be harder for
her here in school with other kids, we spend a little more time every evening
teaching her to write and draw and express herself better with words or art’, I
paused.
“We are grateful that Tara is having extra help in school to
cope up”, Sid started explaining, “..umm, may be she can have little breaks in
the schedule, or when she needs time taking more than one instruction in class,
but I’m sure Ms.Jo is already doing all that she can, Tara seems to like school
better now, and you can let us know if there’s anything more that we can do as
well, but thankfully with great care I guess we are managing the her difficulties
quite well”.
Tara was diagnosed with dyspraxia when she was 2.5 years
old. She reached her milestones later than she should, she did have minor
difficulties with writing, drawing, eating on her own, with movements,
especially playing, she did bump into things or trip over and fall a little
more, understood instructions slower and found normal activities of her age a little
more challenging. But it did not hinder her happy and kind spirit, and she was
as chirpy as a little duck.
“Great, then. We will definitely keep you updated on her
progress”, Mrs.Hiremath concluded, as her assistant Chetan walked in with tea
for us all. After some general conversations over tea, we walked out of the
school, holding hands, a little lost in thoughts.
“Do you think Tara will have the perfect life when she grows
up?”, Sid asked.
“Of course, Sid. I don’t think we should worry about it, she
is going to be an amazing teenager and adult. We might need to be a little more
patient with her as she grows up, I’m sure we will be. If she makes mistakes,
we are here to help her, that’s what parents are for right? She might have a
little difficulties with day to day life, but who doesn’t?”, I said,
reassuringly.
Later that afternoon, Sid and I sat under the tree eating
some tamarind rice and appalam (Sid’s fav menu for picnic lunches), as we
watched Tara play with a dog in the park. She was so fond of dogs, cats, and
birds and she was definitely a baby version of me with animals, I proudly thought.
“Don’t you think we learn so much from Tara every day? I
mean she teaches us a lot of simple things’, Sid said.
‘Hmm-hmm. She is a constant reminder to live in the present,
to be happy and kind all the time and to look beyond our limitations. And also a
reminder to be calm when you stress, to live one day at a time’, I added.
Tara ran to us, took her dog soft toy from the basket and
put it close to my face and said ‘Ma-ma, kissie’ and then took it to Sid, ‘Pa-pa,
kissie the puppy’ and then ran back to the dog and the woman to show them her
dog toy.
“What a little wonder she is, she always has so much love to
shower”, Sid said, proudly. “Isn’t she the best thing that happened to us?!”,
he put his arms around my shoulders and looked at my eyes, smiling.
“Every time I look back in time, I am so happy and grateful we
chose to bring her into our lives. I still remember the little shy girl who
refused to look at anyone, and when people called her ‘different’ and when our
family and friends questioned our choice of adopting her, we knew she was very special
and that she needed us, more than how much we needed a child. And look at her today,
she has changed our world. And filled it with unconditional love”, I said.
Tara ran to us smiling for a group hug, or ‘goop huggie’
like she said.
“Unconditional indeed, precious”, Sid said, hugging us both.
