Why Can't I Give You Life Again?

My lovely baby, Aabi

I write to you this note, for this is all I can do now.

It is your birthday week, my little doll.

How I can imagine (I have to imagine a lot, a lot, and a lot of things, all day long, all the time now) the twinkle in your eyes, the way you would show off to everyone around, whatever you would carry: a new number that would be your age now, 4, a brand new dress, goodies for your little friends, new pair of your favorite shoes, a new bag, a new water bottle, perhaps a new hat too. Oh! How you loved adorning the new on you.

I MISS YOU, DARLING LITTLE BABY GIRL.

My sweetheart, on your birthday, there is nothing that I would wish that is different from any mother around this celestial existence. Like all mothers, I would, or I wish I could, pray for your long, healthy, happy, and successful life.

I ask the creator, the energies, the mighty and the supreme, with all my might:

When I was able to give you life on this day, once, why can't I give you life again?

I will ask this question till the last day of my being, and who knows what lies beyond, but if there is something beyond, then I would keep at this forever.

This day is significant in our lives. We all became someone we weren't. We all became blessedly yours, the day you became beautifully ours.

Your sister has little plans for the day, with your little mates, and those who cared for you while you learnt so much in such a short span. She lovingly adorns sunflowers on everything she loves, clearly, she carries you in everything she does.

Your grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins at home hold you close, in every step, in every thought, in every little thing of beauty around all of us. We find your presence in it all.

I want so much to see you growing up. Growing up into a naughty, active, mischevious, and beautiful little girl. I want so much to see you wear a school uniform, and sit in a class with other children. I want so much to plan and organise a birthday for you, take you to your friend’s birthday parties. I want so so much to buy you new shoes when you outgrow your little ones. And I think this list of wanting to see you do normal regular things as you grow will now remain an unfulfilled wish that I get to keep.

With these wishes close in our hearts, papa, didi, and mumma try to retrace your little steps around all the time.

Aabi, your absence is large, this missing is an ocean, this pain is massive, but your presence and love are immeasurable, like the sky above us and the air around us. You surround us and are beating inside us at all moments, and on this day, like all others, our bond and our love are stronger and louder. Across universes, and across galaxies, wherever energies travel to, we will find you, our little pumpkin.

Till then, I keep asking, and await the answer to my question: When I was able to give you life on this day, once, why can't I give you life again?

Happy Birthday, dear daughter, Aabi.