A 5 minute flash into the future...

Spring break is here, and with just the right sense of timing and perception, the boys have decided that now is the time they will get along well together, without too many of their customary 5 minute interval clashes. A quiet afternoon, after work, and I am lying on the couch with this vague headache, which I cannot shake off over the past 2 days, which feels like its come on because of some toxic build-up. The boys who had been playing upstairs all this while are now playing around me. Not too loud, not too quiet, just the kind of noise level that doesn't rattle your nerves.

I have a shawl over my eyes to block out the uncomfortable light and am trying for a short nap, hoping it will kick off this nagging discomfort. But before my mind can release its hold and let me rest, a few thoughts come swimming up to the surface. And even as I am about to be caught up in them, I realise its happening, but feebly.

Sometimes, thoughts are so darn powerful, that while they happen, they have this truly dreamlike quality, making events, past and a forecasted future, seem so real, so tangible, and evoke emotions that are just as raw, that you know that you are bound to feel them at some point. Right then, I was having a sudden and intense perception of what it would feel like the day Winkie, as the first born, left the home nest, for his future. In a short 2 minutes, the scene played out, very very real, and the feeling of that goodbye, and the consequent emptiness in the house washed over me. I had always believed that I had a certain innate sense of detachment within me, which would only grow over time, to help me deal with that particular life situation, with a very stoic back. And perhaps, I still will. But I realised that I was also going to feel a lot more than I think I am capable of right now. The desolation of the children leaving the house, one by one, will surely find its way into my heart as well, and for that second, I even felt what that was like.

Disturbed out of my sleep mode, I threw off the shawl and looked around for the kids. They were still there some 10 metres away, playing some game conjured up from their imagination. But right then, even that distance was too much for me, and I called out to Winkie to come sit with me. He walked over, delighted by this sudden spotlight of my loving attention on him, and cuddled around my feet. I told him about my catnap dream, and he smiled some more. I told him that I wanted to enjoy all that I could of him for the time he was with me. He said ok, and cuddled some more. I turned my head, to see Thambi standing there, looking a bit left out and waiting to be called too. The instant I signalled, he bounded over and cuddled in the quickly narrowing space on the sofa. Before long, they were back in the thick of their game. In it, they had just escaped the chase of the shark in the water (the floor) and were now safely in the boat (the couch), and rowing hard to get to safety. Thambi tried to get Winkie to go upstairs with him, but for the moment that was out of the question as Winkie told him "I am staying here with Amma forever."

Slowly, the intensity of even that moment passed, and as my eyes closed under the pressure of my recent thoughts, the boys rowed themselves safely to shore, and made their way up the island, to their room. For the moment, all crisis had been successfully averted, theirs and mine, as I gave in to the luxury of sleep.