Time Will Tell

It is a favourite dress of hers. I mean, it was my favourite dress amongst her dresses. A blue skirt with artistic stuff on it. Bought with so much care and love. If the shrewd shoppers like the missus, are amongst the readers here and ask ‘was it on discount?’, well, the answer is ‘yes’. But that is irrelevant. Ok?

Time Will Tell

More importantly, it is how she carries it. For the life of me, I can’t carry a dress on myself properly. My dress sense is usually as bad as my grammar. Looking good from certain angles nobody looks from, and generally sloppy.

A little over a year into the planet, she walks with those skirts and jeans with élan. And has preferences too. Much like the missus.

This skirt is artistically embroidered. Elegant. Understated. Pleasant. And soothing to the eyes. It fits her well and she likes it too. She often lets people know of that by laughing and clapping just whenever she wears the dress, just about right to match the laughing and clapping that goes on within me too.

Today, we are getting ready to hit the park.

Just about today, I notice the missus struggle a bit more to get her into her skirt.  As the skirt takes it place, she smiles anticipating unbridled playtime. It is then that I notice that the skirt is shorter than usual.

“Did you wash it as per the instructions?” I ask the missus. With a frown.

“Did the folks at the shop cheat us silly?” I continue.

Drifting into a soliloquy that Shakespeare should have shuddered and Arundhati Roy would have beamed. I mumble an apology of an ‘address’ to our bedroom walls about corporations making profit from human emotion, charging an arm and a leg for what essentially is a small piece of cloth that progressively shrinks with every wash.

The missus, gives the sprouting hair on the little ones head a quick brush up, and replies calmly with a twinkle in her eyes, “your daughter is growing”. Silence ensues.

It hits me. Indeed. She has grown slightly taller. No visible gaining of weight but taller for sure. My mind races. At this rate she will outgrow the dress very soon. Whatever will happen to my grand plan of taking a picture of her with this dress in Goa? Of taking her to next year’s annual party in this dress. Now what happens to that?  That’s a labyrinth I get whooshed into.

Oh time, I think. Could I cause it to slow down a bit? I mean a bit. Come on, at least a picture in Goa is deserved. I can buy a hundred new dresses, but this is a special skirt. And it so pretty.

We hit the park. Am still in the pensive mood. At this rate she will outgrow this dress, I think. One more inch short and it would look odd. My mind doesn’t stop there. She would be in school soon. And then, there would be exams. And Maths. Oh my God! And then there will be ranks and report cards. The mind shuts down. Like any computer with too many windows open.

Suddenly I hear her let go of a yelp.  I run. She has fallen. Yet again. On the grass. Not hurt. Soon, she is upto her playing ways.

Baby Hand on Grass

I look at the missus, who looks at me and asks, ‘when is she going to walk steady?’

We laugh. We get talking. Watching her play from a distance. “Would you train her to get running with you?” she asks. Half teasing.

“Of course” I say. “I am just waiting for her legs to be just ready to go running”.

“What else are you waiting for?” The missus asks.

That’s like lighting a matchbox in a tinder keg of emotions. I give voice to my dreams. Like I have done before. “Oh you know them. For her to be able to read so that we could go to the local park and read our books under the shades of those trees. Maybe cycle together, to do the hiking together. I wish we could do that tomorrow… I can’t wait for all of this to happen!”

The missus clears her throat. I know something is coming.

“So you want time to go fast when it comes to her reading, running, cycling, but you want time to go slow when it comes to her skirts”. She doesn’t say any more. The missus is possessed with evil grin reminiscent of those in TV news panelists sport after making a point that is noted.

I look into the blue skies for an answer.

Time, the omnipresent mover and shaker will not pander to my selective imploring! Of getting her skirts to stay long forever yet to get her legs get taller and fitter to run about in joy. Time will tell a fitting story. A lovely one at that.

The missus nudges me on. “Go play with her now. Don’t think too much” she says. I scamper up. “By the way”, she says, “I have checked out some fantastic dresses for her at the store. We’ll go shopping tomorrow”.

I run.

Kavi dabbles in writing, reading, traveling, photography, long distance running amongst other things. He and Shanti have their hands full with their adorable toddler, Kayal. In-between all of this, he gives an arm, leg and everything else to earn a living. Usually accomplished by punching keys, attending meetings and trying to sound profound. He blogs at http://kavismusings.blogspot.com & tweets @kavismusings. Just in case you are intrigued enough to know more about him please head to http://about.me/kaviarasu.

  • Ha. …. the perennial worries of a father, can’t wait for the little princess to grow up, yet want to postpone it as much as one can! 🙂 🙂 🙂 me too same boat 🙂

    • We can be in the same boat. And arent we all at sea !?! 😉

  • Roshni

    She’s right! Don’t wait for other moments to come…enjoy the ones going on now! I hope you took many photos of her in her blue dress in the park!

    • Thank you Roshni! There is a never ending stream of snaps! The hard drives are getting filled faster than the time I can take to spell F-A-S-T !


  • Amrita Thavrani

    I like your synonyms like your dressing sense and grammar or shutting down of mind with windows left open like computers. You daughter is growing in her own pace, oblivion to your selective need of slowing or fastening the time. But, she is lucky to have her childhood documented and time lapse recorded. The moments frozen in pictures and minutes recorded in videos.

    • Thank you Amrita! I dont have as many videos. But yes a ton of snaps already. I wonder who its going to help more. Her or me!

      Am all chuffed up that you like the metaphors and similies! Will work at it more! 🙂 🙂

  • The skirt can become a quick and easy handbag for her to carry when she is older! I preserve some of the favorites and convert them into things she might be able to use in future

    • Hi Vinitha! That is something that I didnt think of. This has been promptly passed on to the missus as a swell idea to think of. This is indeed super swell. Thank you!

  • 🙂 A dad’s daughter never really grows up! The skirt sizes would change but the girl in them will still stay that little shrivelled pink crying baby that you first saw in the hospital!

    • Yes kavi, time will tell you that even after your daughter is grown up she will always be your lovely little princess. Enjoy and savour and freeze the moments into clicks. You beautifully complement your posts with photos.

      About the dresses, ask us parents of tweens and teens who often visit stores to buy dresses. My son at 14 has overgrown the dress bought a month back. Don’t know to be happy that he is shooting up or to find a dress for these children which is neither available in the children’s section or at the adult’s section. Most stores have a teen section which fits only kids.

      • Ah the snaps are chosen with care. Am glad that they resonate with you.

        On another note, I didnt realise the dress problem continues well into adulthood. I mean, I did KNOW, but didnt quite soak it in until now ! 🙂

    • Hi Sirisha

      I dont think I could have said it any better. Sometimes I just have to listen to my mom speak to me and realise that! 🙂

  • cheelu

    Nice one and took me back many…many years. Neither of them runs though, with me. 🙂

    • LOL ! I guess you outpace them by a large distance! Someday they’ll get into running ! 🙂

  • Ananthi

    Hi Kavi – she can always wear a legging with the dress…..so you can keep it for long long time to come.

    • Hi Ananthi

      That am sure is the solution the missus must have worked out as well. For some reason, am pretty comfortable with this. Am not sure of the daughter though! 🙂