Interruptive Ninda

It’s way past his bed-time. My little boy, who has to go to his bed at 9:30 exactly each night is bubbly and all awake.

Reason?

Well, the monsoon is here and with the bounty of showers from heaven, the water from the taps becomes a scarcity with the ‘pipes being washed away at the source’ (as my house owner claims). It’s been three days without water, so my family had the full audacity to barge uninvited to my sister’s place for dinner. And well, dinners are always a noisy affair, with lots of talk that runs way into the usual bed-time hour.

So, on our drive back home, my son had a few winks of sleep which eroded as we noisily got out of the car to back in the bed.

Let me not deviate; so, my boy is all wide-awake and I know it will take more than our normal nursery rhymes to put him to bed. So, I ask him, “Story?”

“So-ri?” (That’s his way of saying story) he grins in the dark. My eyes are drooping with sleep. But I put all my energy to tell him a story.

I begin telling him the story of “The Enormous Turnip”. As soon as I mention the Old man planting turnip seeds, he starts throwing the comforter and screaming, “Book….Book!”

Grudgingly, I get up to get that book from the pile we keep in our room. It isn’t there!

Reluctantly, I slip out of the room, knowing that I have to find that book if I’m to put him to sleep.

Luckily, I find it on Tatu’s study table. I happily dash back into the covers with the book.

“Nana (That’s what he likes calling himself) Porni!” (Nana will read) He snatches the book from me. I glare at him. He knows I’m not in a mood to play so sheepishly he returns the book to me.

“OlMan,ong? Ong?” he nudges me, kissing me, knowing that he has vexed me.

So, I begin from the Old Man planting the seeds. While I’m reading, he sees the mouse nibbling in the garden. “Mouse, Mama, Mouse!” he points in the page.

“Ong mouse,” I respond and continue with the story.

“Abhi ong?” he asks as I flip the page. His tongue cannot pronounce ‘Old Woman’, Poor Nana!

My sleep is totally gone as I try to show him how the old couple labored to get the enormous turnip out. He likes going , “Uggh!!!!Uggghhhhhh” pretending to help root out the turnip.

Then on the page where the Old Woman is asking the boy to help them, he doesn’t listen to what I’m reading. He is busy eyeing the ball in the boy’s hand. “Ball! Ong?” he asks me.

“Nana Ball khelni!” (Nana wants to play ball!) At such ghastly hour of the night! No Nana, I reason out. To get him back in the story, I ask him, “ Who is this?”

“Girl!” he answers and beams, coming back to the story mood.

We reach the page where the boy is asking the girl to help them. He points out to the shoes of the boy, which is placed on the fence. “Boy bo! Boy Bo!” (the boy is going to fall) he says. I ignore him and try to turn the page. He slips his tiny finger and returns to the page saying, “Boy…drain…bo..”

“Gewala, Boy bo ni Nana?” I agree with him. Then I finally get to the last page where the whole team is eating the turnip for tea.

“Nana, Khaneee” (Nana wants to eat too!) This boy is too much I tell you!

I quickly put down the book, switch off the reading lamp and cuddle with him, “Ssshhhhh, Nana, Sleep!” I coax him.

“Seeping?” he asks innocently.

Well, those of you who have read the post earlier than this should know what commences then! ☺