Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Baby's day out
Went out with the baby today. Sunny, not too hot, a mild breeze, crowded streets on a market day in the city centre. Baby Sunny slept, or at least had his eyes closed, most of the time, occasionally opening them, and then closing them to go back to his world of dreams.
Yet in the world of adults and reality I noticed something different. People, faces we do not know, faces foreign and strange became happy faces. People smiled at us, as we pushed the pram with Baby Sunny around the city. Of course, they were more interested in the baby than in us, but still people became especially friendly and actually smiled. Some even stopped to chat with the mother, giving advice, exchanging experiences…saying how cute, how sweet and how pretty Baby Sunny is. He is cute, sweet, pretty, that’s undeniable. But why do people only talk to you when you have something (or in this case, someone) they are attracted to? Why do people suddenly become so friendly when you are with a baby?
When I walk alone I feel like I’m invisible and unnoticed. But with Baby Sunny his very being seems to attract people from far and near, to unite people of all races and backgrounds to flock to this new-born being for comfort, and a reminder of how we all began life. We were not any different when we were born. Skin colour, class, education, religion, beliefs and whatever barriers we manage to erect throughout our lives to differentiate and align ourselves were non-existent in the beginning. We were all once vulnerable, in desperate need of attention, love and care. But at some point in life we manage to loose all that; loose that innocence and purity, loose that beauty and loveliness that surround us with an air of envy. And then we put on masks, to hide that very human longing for interaction and friendliness behind stern faces, sunken lips and sullen eyes.
In Baby Sunny’s world of dreams and invisible butterflies there’s no need for such worry yet. But soon enough, as he grows up and older, he will realise…