I feel more inclined towards the emotional side of me this morning. I try to think and relive the moments from yesterday that have brought me drove me to this side of my feelings. It began with my trip to ToysRUs yesterday afternoon. I was walking through the Dolls aisle to buy one for my niece. As soon as I spotted a Barbie doll, the decision was made. But there were so many Barbie dolls, which left me in my otherwise usual state of mind – confused! The bikini Barbie was too revealing for my six year old niece. The one with pink hair, might invite some wild ideas in her little head. Then there was one with some decent clothes, but hair was too short. The thrill of playing with a Barbie doll is changing her clothes and combing her hair. The Barbie with short hair, would kill the fun in half. Finally I decided on a singer Barbie, a microphone in one hand, a bag in the other and of course long hair and a comb. I also picked up two extra dresses for Barbie, priced at a few cents over two dollars. On my way back home, I traveled back eighteen years, when I was in the seventh grade. I narrated to myself, my rendevous with my first and only Barbie.
It was a weekend, and after persisting for long, my usually-not-so-social father took us to his friend’s place. Uncle had one son and two daughters. While my parents chit chatted with uncle and aunty, my brother and I were left to play with the girls. The older girl asked her mother if she could play with her Barbie doll. The first time I heard the name. She brought out this most-beautiful-doll-I-have-ever-seen dressed in a plain white frock, with pink ribbons and white lace. She had the most beautiful hair tied up in another pice of pink ribbon. The doll had a coffee table set, with a pristine tea set and tiny cushions for the sofa and chairs. The sofa and chairs were in white and cushions were blue on one side and pink polka dots on the other. There was also a bathroom set, with a bathtub, hand shower, bubble bath and towel. Barbie also had a couple of dresses to change. My friend, she was my friend now, because she was sharing her Barbie with me, well, so my friend decided to give Barbie a bath. She slipped the Barbie in the bath tub, poured some water and whisked up some bubbles. Before Barbie could finish her bath and dry up, a call come from the adjacent room. It was my father, yeah you guessed it right, it was time to go home. With mixed emotions, and last look at Barbie in the bath tub, I bade goodbye to my friend.
I dont think I waited till I got home to raise my request for a Barbie. Way back then, a Barbie doll cost a hundred rupees. Way too much to spend on a doll. My mother could have bought a week’s grocery with that much money. After consistent Pleases’ and repeated asking, my parents agreed to buy me a Barbie. We walked up to the closest toy store on Double Road and went to the Dolls section. There she stood on the shelf, looking perfect in her white frock, with pink ribbons and white lace, waiting to be mine. She was called “My first Barbie”. I had liked her so much, I didnt want to take a look at the other models. Now was the crucial point. I couldnt have the living room and the bath tub set. It would be too heavy on my parents pocket. I had to choose either of them. I chose the living room set and thought, may be they will buy me the bathroom set later. The change of clothes turned out to be very expensive, so I stitched up a few dresses for Barbie, with old clothes at home. Probably that’s when I learnt to sew. As the rule in the book says, I grew up and forgot all about the bathroom set and eventually the Barbie doll.
When I got back home yesterday and showed the Barbie doll to my mother, it brought an instant smile on her face. I know, the image of my first Barbie in her white frock just flashed through her mind.
Later in the evening, I watched a romantic Bollywood movie. Such movies, push me easily to the emotional side. I get carried away with the subtle love potrayed and thoroughly enjoy the two hours of imagination that plays on the screen. Just when the actors were going to get married, my wailing son, forced me to shut off the idiot box and rock him to sleep. Alas, more emotions in store this evening.
This morning, my son came and stood beside me and said ‘Mom, I love you’. I asked him ‘do you need a hug?’. He nodded. I held him for a long time. He asked me to close my eyes, and kissed me on my forehead. Wrapping my arms around my kids and feeling the tightness of their hug, leaves my emotions skyrocketing.
Last but not the least, the hug and kiss I gave my husband’s mother this morning, brought a lump to my throat. At seventy she is making a trip alone back to India today to be with her grand daughter. After a few weeks she is going to make another twnety hour journey on a flight to be with her grandsons. I hope I can stand up and walk, if I ever live to match her age.
All the emotions flooding my brain, forced me to make these keystrokes. Oops! A microsoft outlook reminder window just popped up. Time to put down my emotions cap and wear my other go-back-to-work one!!

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