To Dear Daughter on your 3rd Birthday!
I recently read “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran again! This
storehouse of wisdom is indeed a revelation and you gain something new every
time you read it.
Something on Life!
Something on Living!
Of particular interest to me this time; was his essay on children. The profound lines lingered with me long after I read and reread them:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
On 30th April our daughter Aamu celebrated her third birthday.
On her D - day as she pranced about happily in
her bright red frilly frock, shimmering silver coloured shoes, with a silver
tiara and matching bangles (which she would on purpose time and again jingle just
to show off ) I wondered in silent amazement – this little
daughter of mine - does she really belong to me?
The way in which Aamu carries herself amongst her peers, her new found confidence and gait; the slight tilting of her head
when she is explaining something to her mom; the business like demeanour when
she mockingly chides her brother, her sprightly laugh, her endless chatter,
those never ending “whys?” and above all – her classic one liners and witty
retorts – where on earth does she get them from?
I love her, fuss about her, pride in her, flaunt her and try to
control her.
Why?
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
Why did Aamu and I meet? What significance do I hold in her
life? Is this a mere father daughter relation or is it something deeper.
Maybe she is a promise I made to life - to further its longing
for itself.
I did not choose Aamu; I am the chosen one!
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
Alea iacta est ("The die is cast")
The Creator is merciful. My significance in her life is decided.
This grace is purely divine; a higher calling and I need to be
worthy of this choice.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
I surrender myself to this bending.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Father string me well; for I am the carrier of a new hope, a new promise.
This birthday Aamu; I have not given you any riches or fairy kingdoms to
play with.
A silent promise is what I offer at your feet. I do not know how or why
you chose me, why do you clasp my hand so tightly; but what I know is this – that
I will forever hold your hand and keep your trust.
I have not come here in vain; for in you I have found my purpose!
Happy birthday again Dear Daughter!
