She's my...

what? ...

who....

say that again....

really....

crescent on my face widens a bit deeper...

While sipping lemonade on the side walk, last sunday during the downtown festival....people buzzing around, music whizzing in the air, clifford and scooby doo walking around, friendly smiles, knowing nods, with me and my son soaking the energy....suddenly out of blue, he beams to the people next to us, "she's my mom!"...first time he intro'd me like that, we dont even know them, just another mom with her 2 kids, she gave me the brightest smile, and i looked at him with such admiration, and he repeated himself unknowing of my pride of his speech.

while driving back home, just as the road winded around, my thoughts did too following the dark grey squiggly lines with yellow dotted lines dividing them...from the moment we are born, we belong, we are a part of a life that is already subsisting, a palpable life....we are a daughter, son, brother, sister, a citizen of a country, a friend, a confidant, a girlfriend, a husband, a wife, a mother, a teacher and many more as we keep evolving and growing.

With each we become more of who we are, with each we get merged from one to another, with each we live a little, with each we die a little, but can we ever be separated from one to another. Can we be more of one and less of another? Each part of who we were and are keeps living it's course of life, the power of you in you lets you breathe that being. What we take from each of these, lives inside us and we can be so unaware of it...Ever wonder that!

Arjun used to call us by names but now he calls me as "taran's mamma" and now when my sweet child introduced me to strangers on the street as his mom, a lot of my first inroductions came to mind....i'm a little bit more than who i'm, in his world i mean something, i'm somebody to him.

A sweet lemonade on the side walk, to the drive back home, i wish he'd be proud of me when he's all grown up and has a little bit of me in him......i know a lot of me and my craziness would breathe in me, poor lad.

On my PL.