Yog was a planned child. Before having Yog, for years, Pavan and I had talked, debated, and argued about having a second child. Then one fine morning, we just decide to take the leap of faith and welcome another child in our crazy litte world. Now that we had decided to be part of the most beautiful miracle in this world, we wanted to be thoroughly prepared for it – physically, mentally, financially and spiritually. I went on a healthy nutrtion and exercise regine, Pavan worked hard to grow the business and we both invested good time in spiritual learning. I remember reading the Bhagvad Gita, and elightening stuff from Richard Bach while I was carrying Yog. I started writing my first blogs to keep my energies positively channeled and Pavan and me went through deep meditation and spirituality classes as well. When I held Yog for the first time in my hands, I truly believed all our hard work had paid off. He was perfect! He was a miracle right there in my arms. His twinkling eyes and adorable smile won the hearts of everyone around him. He rarely cried, ate happily and knew how to keep himself entertained. Every day I used to wake up and thank my lucky stars for giving me this beautiful gift. Yogs entire demenour was so peaceful that I could easily fantasize about he growing up and running a spiritual ashram of his own, one day.
Hah!! Those were the days!!
I can’t recall when or where or how, but slowly and surely Yog outgrew the beautiful first year and entered the well known terrible twos. Now our morninings start with his screaming for attention and our evening end with he pinching and biting everyone because he is exhuasted. Our home is littered with food, toys, papers that he throws around when he is angry. He rolls around on the ground screaming and howling at the slightest thing that goes against his wishes. He hates eating vegetables and can survive happily on chips and chocolates for the rest of his life.
I have been through terrible tows with my daughter, so I am not as distraught as I was the first time. But every time Yog breaks down into another temper fit, I reminisce about those meditation and spirituality classes that I had painstakingly sat through with Yog in my tummy. Didn’t Abhimanyu learn the whole riddle of the Chakravyuh while he was still in Subhadras womb? Then how come Yog didn’t master any spirituality?? I am sure it is far simpler than the Chakravyuh!
Alas!! There are no easy answers to these questions! I am not Subhadra. Yog is not Abhimanyu. And we definetely do not live in war times. So maybe I was not destined to have this luxury. Nonetheless, I continue the spiritual process for myself, now more in the hope that I will survive this age with my sanity intact. But honestly speaking, no matter how moody Yog might behave during the day, as he sleeps peacefully in my arms at night, my mothers heart forces me to believe that one day Yog will outgrow this age and move on to show light and hope to millions out there.
I don’t know how many more scratched cheeks, broken cups and littered meals I need to see, before I can outgrow myself out of this dream. Maybe it is not Yog who really needs to grow up, maybe it is me!