"...you should write more", was what my wife said after reading my blogs. She had no idea I could write when she first read my blog four years ago. The content of my blog brought amusement to her, and it sparked a desire in me to write sooner. However, I was indecisive about the right topic. I wrote my last blog in my first workplace during a quiet 'Tuesday' afternoon (those who know, know) about seeing myself in the future. I wonder if the old man is still around?
The past ten years have been filled with countless memories—a whirlwind of change. I got married, became a father to a daughter, survived Covid twice, and changed jobs multiple times. I relocated to Chennai, Delhi, and Bangalore, and finally returned to where it all began, Hyderabad. In an age dominated by vlogs and podcasts, I never thought I would find myself drawn back to writing blogs. Yet, there is something about writing that continues to entice me.
In my upcoming blogs, I plan to share these countless memories that have accumulated over the past decade. Each one is a precious gem. Let me begin this blog by recounting a moment that is incredibly close and personal—the day my daughter was born.
It was 2020, and the world was grappling with the sudden onslaught of COVID-19. In early 2020, my brother visited us from the US, and he was fortunate enough to leave India just before the pandemic engulfed everything. At that time, my wife Raji and I found ourselves in Bangalore, where we were compelled to stay due to the lockdown. Raji was pregnant and was due in July, and despite her longing to be in her hometown, we had no choice but to remain in Bangalore. The months from March to July became etched in our memories as truly unforgettable. We often reminisce about the days we spent cooking our favourite meals together, debating baby names, and creating a WhatsApp group to record any name that struck us as special. Bangalore's typically congested streets transformed into tranquil havens as we strolled, relishing the rare absence of traffic, even at the dreaded Silkboard signal. We spent countless hours talking, sharing stories from our past. In hindsight, everything that happened to us occurred for the best. Looking back, those moments were truly priceless, and we are grateful we didn't miss them by going elsewhere.
During the initial months, particularly in March, confusion enveloped us as we grappled with the bewildering rules and regulations imposed by the lockdown. As news of the devastating death toll in countries like Italy flooded in during April, we desperately sought a way to reach Coimbatore, but our efforts proved futile. Amidst the uncertainty, Raji expressed her desire for a maternity photoshoot in May. With limited options available, I mustered all my amateur photography skills to capture those precious moments, and to my surprise, she cherished the results. Her ability to find contentment in whatever we had was a remarkable trait—one I am still striving to learn from her.
As June unfolded, we gradually adapted to the challenges presented by COVID-19 and its enduring restrictions. Encouraged by the support of our family and friends, we mustered the courage to face the impending delivery alone. Thankfully, Raji's parents were able to make the journey to Bangalore, alleviating some of our worries. Finally, the much-anticipated month of July dawned upon us, and we readied ourselves for the momentous occasion—the day of delivery, our own version of D-Day!
The journey to the hospital proved to be a battle in itself, fraught with various challenges. We meticulously arranged and underwent Covid tests well in advance, anxiously waiting for the results to confirm that we were in the clear. Transport logistics added another layer of complexity, ensuring a safe and swift passage to the hospital amidst the uncertainties of the pandemic. Additionally, visitation restrictions meant I became the constant shuttle between our home and the hospital, as Raji's mother remained by her side for support. On that very first day, as I embarked on my hospital commute, I encountered an unexpected obstacle—a vigilant traffic police officer who halted me. Thankfully, armed with the necessary documents, I swiftly cleared the hurdle, earning the officer's recognition. From the second day onward, he greeted me with a smile and reassurance: "Hogi, Hogi Enu Bejar Madkobedi" (Go, go, it's no bother). It was a small but comforting gesture that alleviated the stress of daily travel. And finally, after months of anticipation, the long-awaited day emerged — July 18, 2020.
Outside the operation theatre, I anxiously paced back and forth. An hour later, a nurse emerged, cradling a tiny baby in her arms. In that moment, I froze. The nurse shared the birth time and the baby's weight, but her words barely registered in my ears. All my fatigue, the struggles endured during the pandemic, and everything else faded away as I laid eyes on the most adorable little being. I was captivated by the sight before me—a cute little bundle wrapped in a yellow cloth, crying loudly. I yearned to hold her, but the fear of accidentally dropping her due to her delicate size held me back. I concealed my apprehension with excuses, but my desire to embrace her was overwhelming. The nurse returned inside with my daughter (it still feels surreal to write those words!). Later, when I was finally allowed to see Raji, I beheld our precious gift. She was peacefully sleeping, swaddled in the yellow cloth, snuggling and furrowing her brow with eyes tightly shut. Even though she was right before me, it took some time to fully comprehend that I had become a father. I spoke to Raji, and amidst her exhaustion, her face beamed with joy.
We initially named her Drithi but later renamed her Viviksha because the stars apparently know better. Bringing her home marked the end of peaceful nights, especially for Raji. As she grew, our daughter brought us immeasurable joy through her smallest actions.
From the earliest moments of her existence, I sensed a spirit of resilience within her. It seemed as though she had already embarked on her journey as a fighter, long before she took her first breath. Throughout the trials and tribulations of the Covid-19 lockdown, she remained a beacon of strength, a constant reminder of hope amidst the chaos that engulfed the world. When the day of her birth arrived, she demonstrated her fighting spirit once again, conquering the challenges that awaited her.
But the battles she fought did not end there. At four months old, in the midst of November, she faced yet another formidable opponent—Covid-19. Alongside us in a Hospital, she braved this invisible enemy, defying the odds and emerging victorious. It is a tale that deserves to be shared in its entirety, perhaps in another blog for a future time. In the subsequent years of 2021 and 2022, she continued to triumph over the clutches of Covid, resiliently standing tall in the face of adversity. And in 2023, she underwent a challenging eye surgery, exemplifying an unwavering spirit that surpassed her tender age.
In every obstacle she faced, our daughter embodied the essence of resilience and the unwavering spirit of never giving up. She became my teacher, imparting invaluable lessons of perseverance, strength, and steadfast determination. Through her remarkable journey, she taught me the power of facing challenges head-on and never backing down. I am truly proud to be her Appa, forever inspired by her relentless courage. Well done, kid.
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