A Day in Mahy's World

"Mama [1] , look Aayush wants to go shopping. Who will drive the car?," announced Mahy marching into my room. She was carrying a doll of the size of my palm in her little hands. Mahy rarely announces that she wants me to visit her fantasy world. Fantasy world is her real world and Tanush is very much a dweller of her world as much as I am. He isn't an inanimate doll. In her world he breathes, he gets hungry, he becomes cranky and he loves excursions. He isn't the only inhabitant in Mahy's world. Tina, Bhondu and Kadam are the other citizens whom I have had the pleasure of meeting. They are of different sizes, wear different attires and have different hairdos (if they have hair that is). When I was introduced to Tanush my primitive wordly eyes could not see him. Mahy was a little peeved when I could see him sitting right beside me.

Do you want to be a part of Mahy's world? Immigration is a piece of cake here. Just recently I convinced her, the sole immigration officer in her world, that her Sponge Bob (tm) backpack is not just a mere dump bag. He is an interesting character who is smitten by her world and wants to be a part of all the fun we have everyday. It took me less than a minute to convince her to give him citizenship. He would never need to carry passport when he enters her world. As long as he is part of all activities that happen here (chores not being a part of activities) he needs no identification.

Mahy's world keeps shrinking and growing between one and two rooms. But even when it occupies just a room it can house a movie theater, a swimming pool, a cake shop, a vegetable shop, a book shop, a grocery shop, a car and a bike. Speaking of cars residents here are alien to the concept of a driver's license. Anyone - Mahy, me, pocket-sized Aayush or even the invisible Tanush can drive the car.

You are rarely cash-strapped. Here petrol and pop corns cost the same - 2 Rupees, at the most 3. In fact even if you buy bags of snacks or gifts you never pay more than 2 Rupees. In this world my empty iPod case magically transforms into a wallet. I slide my hand inside the wallet and a credit card comes out. Real world dwellers, you won't see it but believe us when we say that we just pulled a nice glossy credit card typically used only at petrol pumps. If the credit card fails to surface, the wallet produces this wondrous 2 Rupees coin. With this coin you can keep buying things and when you open your purse to buy a new item, incredibly that very coin is still there in the purse.

Cell phones are used diligently out here. Broken cell phones, which were shunned by the real world, work impeccably here. And so do the so-called toy phones. They don't need any charging. They don't need any SIM card. They just work. And you will never be hounded to pay the bill.

Monotony does not translate to boredom in our world. Monotony increases happiness manifold. You would see us buying cakes every 5 minutes, not just one cake for the birthday boy or girl but several of them, each to suit ones palate. A minute after the birthday song is sung for Mahy, it is time to celebrate birthday of Tanush.

We don't mind going to movie theater and devouring popcorns and colas umpteen times. We see the same movie every time and dance to the same songs. And yet dwellers of this town don't complain of boredom. They love every moment of it.

There is one fellow in particular in Mahy's world who has had a lasting impression on me. He inspires me everyday. His name is Kadam (who graciously agreed to putting his picture on my blog). Kadam means a step in Hindi. And I know that in his case it is always a step forward. This guy smiles perennially regardless of the situation he is in. By a series of unfortunate accidents Kadam was rendered handless and limbless. We are frantically searching for his appendages. Despite the pandemonium Kadam's face never shows alarm. He gives me the broadest of his smiles. I get the same smile when we talk about about my slow recovery. This guy cannot utter a single word but still manages to sermonize me just by his smile. Whenever I am crestfallen and my attention falls on Kadam, who is sloppily lying on a chair or bed, his smile calms me.

For me and Mahy a day in her world is not just a make-believe game. For her it is a routine and for me it is an invigorating experience. Her friends like Kadam, who are labeled lifeless in my world, land up teaching me something invaluable which the best of the teachers or books in my world could not teach me.

[1] That's me. Nieces and nephews call maternal uncle Mama in my language. ^