Kozhandhai Manasu (Kid’s heart)

Yesterday evening was especially hard. We had to take Avy to have blood drawn for his allergy check up next month. In my infinite wisdom, I had called the doctors and asked them to run the test before the appointment so that we have something to talk about. I have no idea why they would not do this on their own, I mean there is nothing much to talk with no test results. Anyways, so we have his appointment on July 9th, and we took him yesterday. Also a lead test was pending for him, so we wanted to get both done together so as to avoid the double poking.

I was restless all day yesterday and we took him after Ajit and I got home from work. He was his happiest self, and I had not given him his usual allergy medications in the chance that they may affect the testing. He got all ready to out “outhhhaaaii” (outside) and was in a very cheery mood. Telling his A.B,C’s, 1,2,3’s and Sa, re ga ma..while I was already so tensed. Ajit and I talked about putting a brave face, telling him that it is for his own good and not trying to scare him. Little did I know that what I was about to witness was going to rip my heart.

While I was doing his paperwork, he was running up and down, cheerfully greeting everyone. They had big pillars in the hospital which for some reason appeared to him like a …yeah you could never guess…LOLLIPOP!!! lol, he would go hug it and touch it and kept shouting LOLLIPOP!!!. He has never had one, he has only seen one in one of his books, which i know surely does not look like a pillar. If the wait to finish the paperwork was nerve racking, we went to the lab and the nice gentleman was trying to get us started. He brought out his book, doing his research on how much blood to draw etc. I felt thankful at least he did his research before they poked Avy. Last time that guy poked him and then started discussing how much then needed which left me mad as hell.

So he called for more reinforcement, a very serious looking lady. Ajit has him on his lap and I sat in front of them on the floor, holding Little A’s hands. I could see the fear creep up on his face and that moment left me so helpless. They first tied the band on his right hand searching for a vein, and Avy was in tears already, bawling, and since they were not able to find one, she moved on to his left hand. Luckily they got one. Ajit held his head and chest, the other guy held Avy’s left hand out and I held his legs and his kutty right hand was buried in my hands. The look I saw was “Amma, why are you not doing anything about this”…..I fought my best to not let a single tear out.

He bawled, cried his little lungs out, while I kept saying on what a good job he is doing, how much of a strong person he is, I tried it all, but they had to get quite a bit of blood, so it was probably about a minute or minute and half (Ajit correct me if I am wrong!!) but it seemed forever. I even offered to sing his single most favorite song now, Old Mcdonald…Ajit started singing his lullaby (chinna paappa).My hands ached from holding him, and his eyes looking deep into mine to help him, and I just thought of what he is going through. He was red all over and then it was done. Avy still held his left hand out crying!!

I took him, and we wiped his face and offered him his favorites, wafer…he said no, we offered his oreo kinda cookie..he said no..finally it was grapes!! (Daaep-as he called out. I am lucky I always pack all his favorites leaving nothing to chance :)). Then we put a bandaid on which made him freak out again. He kept complaining pointing to the “mama” (uncle?). He then pointed outside and said “Outhhhai)..I scooped him up and carried him out. We showed him the plowers (flowers), the cars…with every few second being interrupted by his complaints about the mama that poked him. I was almost in tears, which Ajit kindly reminded me to keep it in as Avy was just getting over this.

I sat with him on the back and kissed his hand every time he held it out for me saying “mama, oova (hurt)”…and he kissed it himself. The drive home is about 8 minutes, he was talking other stuff with an occasional hand-out for a kiss:). As I was taking him out of his carseat once we reached home, he asked “E, I O?” (he remembered me offering to sing when they were drawing blood)…I said “Surea paadaren, chellam”…and started..

“Old Mcdonald had a farm…E, I, E, I, O…

And on that farm….only to be interrupted by Avys voice going….”ha…some…cowss”….this was the FIRST time he sang so many words together….

E, I, E, I,o…with a …Avy continued…Mooo, Mooo with the cutest cow impression…

We walked in, his patti (grandma) greeted him, and he seemed to have forgotten, so we asked her not to ask about it…but after 5 minutes he runs up to her and shows her his hand saying…”Maama, Oova”..and gets his kiss from paatii, then it is Thatha’s turn…then he showers his own hand with kisses…:)

I could no longer stand it, I went up, changed my clothes, had a good cry…I had to let it out. I cannot forget that face pleading with me. I told Ajit that he had not seen what I had, that crying little face. I feel bad for saying that now, because I know it was very hard on Ajit as well. But I like it that he is stronger person in these situations, it helps me let my guard down and break down if I want to. A good cry always helps!

But something happened, Little A had forgotten all about it. He removed his own band-aid, proudly pronounced it “Tassh (trash)”, and went and put it in the trashcan. He continued playing, talking cute things, we had a long silly bath, with him pouring water all over me, his favorite “Thothai(dosai)” dinner…and the bedtime love…and a goodnight sleep.

I guess this is what my mom often says “Kozhandhai manasu”…he got over it so quickly. He became happy in the daily things that make him happy. His truck, his home, his people, his bath, his bubble, his blocks, his stories…and I went to bed next to the peaceful soul, thinking why can’t we adult be more like that? Why do I still feel like a piece of heart had been ripped out? Why can I not be happy that he is? I learnt something new…I am going to try to…have a kozhandhai manasu…and find my own E,I,O…to pacify me!

Here is a old but one my favorite pics of Little A.



  1. Divya said,

    June 24, 2010 at 12:48 pm

    Your posts are getting better and better with every article! Great writing Anu. A big hug to Avy and you!! 🙂

  2. telugumom said,

    June 24, 2010 at 7:06 pm

    Vary nice post! Made me cry a little….

  3. v.balagopal said,

    June 25, 2010 at 3:13 pm

    Creation is something one can be proud of. It is to the delight of the

    creator. It need not be the delight of others. If it is also the delight of

    someone else then it is doubly satisfying to the creator.This applies to all

    sorts of creation; prose, poetry,drawing, music, dance, speech, etc. Some of the

    creations which can be original and it is here the individuality that comes to

    light.The peculiarity is the nature of this.Since all the above mentioned are art

    in form. It comes only to those who are born with that extra in them.It does not

    come to all. There lies the difference between art and work. Cycling, swimming,

    running and even walking are all works anybody can do.

    Affinity between the creator and the creation is infinite. Blog writing is

    one such art and I think it you are into it as fish is into water. I’ve gone thro

    yours and so far it is par excellence and you deserve three cheers for it.

    I wanted to write this even when I read your 1st/2nd post. But my inability

    to put it in writing took long.

    You may note I’ve not gone into the contents of the blogs but only admiring

    the quality of it. You may await my next comment on content ASAP

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