14th November 1996……a very important date for me because the mother in me was also
born on this very date. My son’s birthday! Awwwwwwwwww!
My parents and I had nervously awaited my boy’s arrival into our worlds. Normal delivery
and then the homecoming had followed for the two of us – the mother-son duo.
My world had suddenly changed for the good!!!!!!!!!!!
The bothersome thing for us was that my little fella was barely 2.5 kgs. He appeared
skinny and bony. The eyebrows seemed missing in his impeccably fair complexioned
countenance. The eyes were large but he barely opened them. Most of the time the little
angel was to be seen sleeping soundly.
And then barely in a week, the baby was diagnosed with physiological jaundice.
That had multiplied my existing worries then. Phototherapy was the answer to this issue.
Such was the doctor’s stern advice to us. The baby had to be put in the sun without
clothes. And in just a few days my little bundle of joy got tanned from white to light brown
to dark brown to black and finally to jet black colour. This transformation seemed alarming
not only to the eyes but whether the problem was getting cured or not had become a major
concern.
It must have been about a fortnight of such difficult afternoons for us in Noida!
Our neighbours and friends, as is customary, visited us on and off and brought lovely
presents for the newborn. Almost everyone had remarked, that the baby was too thin and
needed careful monitoring. These remarks doubled my nervousness and anxiety. My
father, being an extremely sensitive person sensed that I was grappling with unknown
fears and worries about being a new mom! My father had always held my hand in such
moments and had tenderly advised me to carry on discharging my primary duty of rearing
my newborn without paying undue stress over all those disparaging remarks I am
sanguine that he too must have had worried himself for me and my boy while maintaining
a calm stoic exterior.
The terrace of our first-floor house was very humongous. Three or four rows of strings
were tied from one end to the other to accommodate the new baby’s apparel. The nappies
outnumbered all the other types of clothes put together. The mittens, wipes, booties, and
nappies were among the smallest clothing accessories for the baby. One afternoon while
we were all sun-basking with my frail sunburnt boy, a group of relatives landed up in our
house to extend good wishes and congratulatory greetings to me and my parents. It
appeared to be a graceful afternoon! But all of a sudden one of our visitors was seen to be
abruptly getting up and shooing away something with extreme urgency. On inquiring we
learned that one of the baby’s mittens that were hung on the wire for drying in the sun was
surreptitiously being taken away by a squirrel. The lady had tried her level best to save the
mittens from the squirrel’s grasp but she simply failed in her endeavour. Her misery that
the new pair of mittens that belonged to the newborn was taken away by the squirrel was
ominous. She couldn’t say much in words but the lady’s expression said almost everything.
A sense of disappointment and anxiety descended on me and for a while, I was enveloped
in the gloom of implied superstition! How could the baby lose his new clothing to the
squirrel? My father discerned my baseless fears and consequent depression and
immediately he started the healing process. He came by my side and put his hand atop
mine with great love, affection, and tenderness and he told me that I didn’t need to look so
upset over this episode of the squirrel. My father had said that the squirrel was also a
mammal like us. He had further remarked that squirrel symbolizes energy and enthusiasm.
The cheerful activity (robbing away my boy’s mittens in broad daylight) was just an
interesting scene for us to witness and was also a reminder for all of us (humans) to play
and enjoy life. My father had remarked, “so what if the squirrel took away your boy’s cloth!
Your son is a giver from birth itself.
My girl…..blessed is your child whose cloth is helping fulfill somebody’s
purpose. The squirrel is preparing a nest (a home) for its babies. The sole
purpose of taking the little piece of cloth is to strengthen its nest which would eventually be
a shelter for the young baby squirrels. Isn’t it a nice feeling?
Tell me, my girl..…shouldn’t you be a happy mother? Shouldn’t you feel grateful that your
son is the chosen one to shelter some being? Do you think we are for a loss of any kind?
Rather it’s God’s intervention and intention to make your little infant a giver! Stay blessed
my daughter. Do not let superstitions and dogmas twist your positivity.” My perspective had
changed altogether at that very moment!
A happy light feeling embraced me. My dad could see the transformation by way of my
body language.
My father didn’t stop here. He continued with the healing process… My father then
narrated to me the story of Lord Rama, the much worshipped Hindu God, and the squirrel.
My father in his inimitable style had told me that legend has it that when Sita was abducted
by Ravana, the king of Lanka, a bridge had to be constructed to rescue Sita with the help
of Vanar Sena, which comprised of monkeys. It was noticed by some monkeys that a tiny
brown squirrel had been running back and forth on the construction site. They had
observed that the little brown squirrel dipped itself in the sea and rolled on the sands till its
body was covered with sand to its full capacity. It then ran to the site and shook the sand
off its frail body and ran back to get the next ‘load’ of sand. This was the tiny creature’s
love and devotion towards Lord Rama and Sita. When Lord Rama heard about this, he
was much too touched and he acknowledged the contribution of the squirrel howsoever
small. Lord Rama lovingly ran his fingers on the back of the squirrel as a gesture of
profound thanks and immense love. That impression of Lord Rama’s fingers earned the
squirrel its stripes which are carried even to this day by the three-striped palm squirrels.
And by way of storytelling, my wonderful father had concluded by reiterating that his
grandchild was a giver by birth itself and was the chosen one to contribute to the squirrel’s
home, the squirrels which were Lord Rama’s loved creatures. I felt completely healed,
energetic and enthusiastic. There was a drastic change in my perception, behaviour, and
thought process. My father was like a wonderful magician who could transform my life with
his knowledge, conviction, and word power.
Friends, today I would like to make a very candid admission before you. The sight of
squirrels anywhere simply delights me and also, takes me on a spiritual sojourn and I am
reminded of my dear father who now rests in heaven in the company of Gods. The
mythological legend of the squirrel being associated with divinity in conjunction with the
philosophical yet practical ponderings of my erudite father has resounded in my ears since
then many times and has negated the depressing thoughts or disturbing vibrations if any
and replaced those with harmonious, joyous, and celebratory ones.
The rendezvous with the squirrel many years ago turned out to be an enriching experience
for me indeed!!!!
Written by : Preeti Kandpal Pathak
Author’s bio:
Being an army officer’s wife, Preeti Pathak has got the best of travelling experiences and has seen the myriad beautiful cultures of the country. She has done MA B.Ed. plus several years of teaching experience in various schools. She loves music, reading, composing poems, and short stories.
