Every morning as I rush out of my flat, she's there to see me doing my balancing act and tripping down the stairs. Her eyes are two of the most beautiful I've ever seen. They're huge, and full of an innocence that is the prerogative of childhood. They behold the world with wonder, yearning to see as much of it as possible from behind a net. Her black eyes observe everything keenly, absorbing like a sponge, learning rapidly. She already knows a smile will get her a pat or a kiss, and she loves being fondled. She knows that by making her eyes spew out water at strategic moments, she can get almost anything from her doting grandma.
Its probably a good thing the net shields Bhoomi... both from tumbling down the stairs, as well as from a lot of things those eyes shouldn't be subjected to see - a dead puppy just outside the colony gate, an irritated father shoving his toddler out of his way in his haste to leave for work, people going about their daily routines like robots, unmindful of Life unfolding all around them..
Bhoomi probably has a very small world right now - her grandpa's house where she spends her days, the veranda from where she waves at cows, her soft cot where she peacefully dreams of ice-creams and weird girls juggling sandwiches. But her world will soon grow, her horizons will expand to encompass people and places beyond family and home.
I hope she'll always be full of wonder, enchanted by nature and Life. I hope she won't grow up before she has to, won't lose her innocence under peer pressure and the diktats of the society. I hope she will always look at me with that look of hers that says "How does she manage to eat that crumpled sandwich? And why doesn't she ever wake up on time?"