Aranya at 30 days: Adorable little gundumani
I'm doing a flowstate with Aranya sleeping beside me. She’s such an adorable little gundumani.
She makes the funniest chirping sounds while sleeping in her bassinet. They sound interchangeably like the sparrows outside our window in Versova and Tweety bird from the Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries.
Aranya was born a black belt in kung-fu. No swaddle is too tight for her. She’ll break out of them with practiced ease.
But her most powerful move is to stare at you calmly with her big orb-like eyes at 240 am. More than once Shradha and I have experienced the Aranya stare-down jump-scare. More than once we've asked gpt why she does that.
I’d like to believe that she loves skin-to-skin the best. For the childless among you, it’s when you put your baby on your chest and let her sync with your heart rate and body temp. Helps them sleep better.
Aru curls up like a Yin-yang sign on my chest and goes into the deepest of slumbers. During this time, I too catch a snooze.
When we wake up, anywhere from a few minutes to a few days could have passed. It’s disorienting in a movie-style jump-cut sorta way. You can cut from anytime to anytime and an infinity has gone by.
But those pockets of time, when she's lying on me, rooting in her sleep, bobbing her little bobblehead, oscillating between sleep and wakefulness, have to be the most alive I’ve felt.
And I’ve experienced love, tripped on Vattakanal bullet shrooms and walked Japan in winter.
Shit, she’s waking up.
Written at 1134 pm, 4th July 2026