Skipping through life with Sass

Skipping through life with Sass

اکّا بکّا تین تڑکّہ

لوّہ لاٹھی چنّن کاٹھی

اوُلی دوُلی کاش کریلی

جاؤ بیٹا گنگا سے کسیرو لاؤ

پکا پکا ہم کھائیں

کچا کچا نیولا

نیولا گیا چوری

بسوا کٹوری

پان لے پھول لے

پُچَک جا!

Ukkaa bukkaa teen tarrakkaa

Lavvaa laathi, channan kaathi

Ooli dooli mash karailee

Jaao beta gangaa se kaseroo laao

Pakkaa pakkaa hum khaayein,

Kachcha kachcha Nyolaa

Nyolaa gayaa chori

Basvaa katori

Paan le

Phool le

Puchak jaa!

I vaguely understand perhaps half a sentence in all of this but I know it like the back of my hand. Only because my Nani used to sing it to me and play on our fingers like an eliminative game what it brings back are memories as vivid as ones of being forbidden to wear flowers but only allowed to stitch them into a bracelet or a necklace. Motia was an integral part of my childhood with my dress brimming with freshly bloomed little white gems.

Giggling our little hearts out, bringing them inside. Every single summers day.

To pick the best ones and with nimble fingers, sew them into a garland or a few. Or simply hand a few flowers to Ammi (my Nani) to place next to her Katora (silver bowl for drinking water) or put single blooms in her ears as earrings.

I want to grow a similar large bush of Motia in my house some day, or a lemon tree or even papaya or guava (both of which I hate so badly) just so I can hold Sassi’s tiny finger and skip with her through my magical childhood. Maybe just a little bit of that love will touch her and make her half as happy as I was growing up.

Or play

گگّو منّا گگّو جوُ

راول گئے بہریسوں

انت منت دو کوڑیاں پائیں

او کوڑیاں گھسیارے کو دیں

گھسیارا بیچارہ گھاس دِہِس

او گھاس ہم گائے کو دیں

گائے بیچاری دودھ دِہِس

دُدھوا کی ہم کھیر پکائیں

سب کو بانٹو چونٹیو

سسّی کا حصہ رکھ دئیں

بلَیّا آئی چاٹ گئی

بڑھیا مائی برتن باسن سمیٹ لیو

نئی بھیت اٹھتی ہے

پرانی بھیت گرتی ہے

اڑا ڑا ڑا ڑا

دھڑمّمّا!!

Guggu mannaa guggu joo

Raaval gaye behreisoon

Anat manat dou kaurriyaan paayein

Oo kaurriyaan ghasiyaaré ko diin

Ghasiyara bechaara ghaas dihiss

Ghaas hum gaaye ko diin

Gaaye bechaari doodh dihiss

Dudhvaa ki hum kheer pakaayon

Sab ko baanto chontiyon

Sassi ka hissaa rakh diyon

Bilayyaa aayi chaat gayi

Burrhiya maayi bartan baasan samait lo

Nayii bheet uthtee hai

Puraani bheet girtee hai

Arraarraarraarraa

Dharrammammaaa!

Yet another rhyme that makes little sense but definitely more than the first and was played with a proper killer legs workout which I only figured when I tried to do it with my toddler. No wonder Ammi had flat abs after having 6 kids (and a few miscarriages). The thing is near impossible and my child is a featherweight. Real workout.

I want to keep these tiny things alive. I feel we don’t hold on to the beauty of language and dialect of the yesteryears and soon we will lose it all in the flux of quick, easy and manageable colloquial. It just makes me sad. I don’t want these things to die. Maybe just hold on to these few?

Just for old times sake?

For I hear my own uncontrollable laughter in my toddler’s giggles and the joy it brings to her face reminds me of how the world was a beautiful place when we would laugh endlessly without reason while balancing the moat built by our dresses to (barely) contain the flowers we just picked.

It is the ability to love, live and laugh that I wish for my child and do it all with her as I show her how.

Thank you for being, Sassi.

In my quest to “parent” you, I’ve been walking down memory lane far too many a times looking for a cheat sheet and almost always surfacing with memories to hold on to and relive instead of a “formula”.

So come hold my finger and let’s skip brought time where you and I can mumble these while the world stares at us in confusion and all we have is unabated laughter and that twinkle in our eyes that we share.