It's a bird ... It's a plane ... It's Supergirl!

My Mom's been telling me about 'IT' these past few months. There's going to be a baby. Her tum'd been growing and had began to look as though it would burst.

Now do I care if it'd be a boy or a girl? I don' sink so. I'm too little to know the difference and / or have a preferance. I'm only about a year and eight months, you see. All I know is Ma and Baba are SO EXCITED. And that's so infectious. I ask Ma each day, well, not each day, really, every couple of weeks.

You see, this woman doesn't seem to remember she's pregant! It's I that have to watch in horror as she climbs that rickety old step-ladder to bring that suitcase down from the loft. I can't see her face, that tummy being in the way, but watch carefully for the slightest sign of imbalance. My fingers twist nervously, but I'm ready to stretch my arms out and catch her if she topples over.

My intentions were always good, but not always so sensible. You know what I did one day? Well, she went off to the loo and took so long to come out, I began to get worried. It was about 10 o'clock, my juice and mid-morning nap time. I was getting hungry and sleepy - and anxious for her, remember! I went up to the bathroom door and tried to get her to talk to me. As we chatted, I fiddled with the little bolt on the outside. It was fun. How easily it slid to and fro...

After a bit, she began to come out. About time, I thought. But what's keeping her? Why isn't the door opening? She's calling to me. Bozo, doraja ta khule de. Open the door, beta. What? She'd closed the door from the inside, not me! What was all the fuss about? Now she's yelling out of the bathroom window! Something about somebody phoning Baba.

I don't understand it. Where's my juice? I want to sleep. I begin to whimper.

Then, quite suddenly, I hear her voice from - down below. I put my face to the floor and see her fingers, poking out from under the door, from the space there! Aaye, beta. Come. Lie down on the mat. Her voice is soft and comforting. Then, my favourite lullaby wafts through the crack. Ghoom padani mashi pishi.... and I fall asleep there, on the bathroom door mat.

I think I was still sleeping when Baba got home from work, at 4 o'clock! We're lucky he was on morning shift, for otherwise he'd not have got back before 7 or 8, as was his wont. Also, lucky there hadn't been any breakdowns of those Banbury thingies that day....

And we're lucky Ma wasn't nearer her time... or Mini could have been born in the loo!

But I digress. This is not about Ma and me, it's about The Coming of My Supergirl.

A couple of weeks later, my Chitra Mashi came to stay for the duration of some course she was taking in Madras. Now this is one cool gal, but more of her another time. Her arrival was a big relief, now that I had someone to share the Mom-watching duties with me. Sometimes, I doubted how grown-up she was - who takes a near-full-term pregnant woman on boat rides, for example? - but obviously, she'd be reliable enough in a crisis.

And, on July 23rd of that year, the crisis came at midnight, just like with Cinderalla. There was this hustle and bustle, excited voices, a few groans, I think. But I just sucked harder on my pacifier and went off, back to sleep. When I woke up again, Ma and Baba weren't there. I'm not sure what I did or said, if anything, but Mashi, can you fill in for me here?

Baba came back round 8. Very pleased with himself he looked, I can tell you. Nobody told me nothing, but from their talk, I could tell I had a baby sister.

Oh, JOY! And no, I don't mean that the way Y meant it when she saw pure vegetarian food at a party she'd been invited to.

Anyway, Mashi went off to the hospital and Baba and I followed at about 10. For some strange, unfathomable reason, K. J. Hospital would not allow kids in to visit their Moms, so we had to stand outside in the grounds, below Ma's window. Mashi brought the baby to the window and held her up for me to see.

Reminiscent of Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Throw down your hair! and Oh, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo! And what more romantic than my very first glimpse of my Supergirl, my baby sister, the one I was to grow to love even more than I loved Ma and Baba, or even myself?

Not that I could actually see her, of course. Not very clearly, at least. It was only about three years later that Ma discovered I was short-sighted. But Baba said, Oi to! Look! There's your sister. There's Mini! And the excitement and love in his voice was enough to make me full of those very sentiments!

But. Incredible! They'd already named her! And I'd still to have a name! I wasn't named until they had to choose a name for me to enroll in Dunlop School when I was three. I was still Bozo! Well, I know, I know! They'd always been decided. They'd name their first daughter after that old friend of Ma's, through who Ma and Baba had met. Mrinalini Singh, her name was.

Anyway, I was glad they'd shortened it to Mini and not to Munni, after the original. My parents are more sensible. Well, sometimes, anyway...

Two days later, Ma and Baba came home with their bundle of joy. And what a fuss they made! Mini slept in their room. Ma told me she'd move to my room when she was 4 months old. As I remember it, Ma was with her all the time! Whenever I looked, Mini was there, ín Ma's arms, and these desperate, sucking sounds, broken by intermittant, gasping breaths, would emanate almost continuously.

But was I jealous? Of course not! I'd watch fascinated when she slept in her little white, cane crib, which I had vacated only when I was 8 months old and moved to my own baby cot in my own room. I'd be in Ma's arms as the crib was on this high stand. And together we'd admire this beautiful little baby, our princess, our Supergirl...

No, I was far from jealous! A little bit insecure, maybe. My insecurity manifested itself in two ways. I began wetting my bed again and I went back to the bottle, from which I'd been weaned when I was 10 months old. Didn't seem to bother Ma that much. She seemed to take it in her stride, and just went about it as though she had just had twins. There were two sets of nappies and two sets of - what are they called? Those padded sheets Ma used to place over the rubber sheet? Kaathaa, they call it in Bengali.

And Ma had to feed two babies - can't believe I'm calling myself a baby! - at the same time. There was Mini in one arm, sucking on one of her breasts, and me in the other arm, sucking on my bottle! Both gazing up adoringly at her face, lovingly bent towards us. And more often than not, she'd be talking to ME, telling me how wonderful I was and how lucky we all were to have that gorgeous baby sister of mine with us.
I suppose Ma thought Mini was too little to understand her, and that's why she spoke to me. But Mini and I have our own language. And how she gurgles and laughs, when we share our secrets! Little does Ma know the things we say and are up to! I happily gave her my teddy bear till she got her own and even welcomed her into my cot. When she's older, she can even get on my rocking horse. But hang on! She has been on it already, in Ma's tummy!

There are other plus points too. The maid, Anjali Amma, can now stop tying my hair in ribbons, for starters!

Sorry, if this has become too long and boring, guys. I was having so much fun remembering, I just lost track of time. - And space! But if you've read thus far, obviously you love me enough to hear all about the Supergirl, who came into my life on this day of July the 23rd...

I end with a poem me and Ma wrote the other night. It's set to the tune of 'I Feel You In My Fingers ...'

My Cell Phone Mini
I see you in the morning
And as I go to bed;
You’re always there beside me
It’s like you’re in my head!
Each night when I do kiss you
I’m sure you feel it too!
I say goodnight so softly -
And do you hear that too?

You know I love you, I always will
And when I am dead, I’ll love you still
There’s no beginning, there’ll be no end
‘Cause on my love you can depend!

I see your face before me
Each time my cell phone rings
Your smile is sweet and gentle
It makes me want to sing.
Whenever I feel broken
I simply think of you -
And all I ask of heaven
Is that you keep being you…….