Posted by: Monideepa Tarafdar | June 27, 2011


She doesn’t like to eat and will do it only when I tell her that it will make her stronger. She laughs and cries in her sleep, her fingers sometimes tightly curled up, sometimes holding on to mine. She tells me to play her favorite song and read out a book and we listen to the music and words together as though no one else existed. She hates it when I give her medicines or salt water gargle for her sore throat, telling me that I am a bully. She likes to hold my hand when she walks more than a few steps. I did these things too, with her, when I was her little girl. Now she is my little girl.


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