Chatterboxing...

I talk too much. Its always been that way. Not that I am not capable of silence. I can keep quiet just as easily but in general I have always been the chatterbox of the family. Ideas and words keep running through my mind at the speed of light and if I am with someone I am truly comfortable with, I talk away without thinking too much. The moment I have to weigh my words however its a little different. 

I have had innumerable experiences of wishing that I had not been so open or that I had kept some things to myself and yet when I trust completely I forget to hold back. In the rare case that I do so, its because I am sure of being misunderstood on some issue. The more I chat away happily the more prone I am to being catalogued or perhaps even weighed and measured against some invisible standard. I know this and yet with people I love, I keep forgetting to at least occasionally keep things to myself. Maybe that’s why I feel bad when I know someone I am close to is not entirely open about things – and I regret very strongly that I have not been reticent enough.

S usually tells me to hold back with everyone except him since he has known me for so many years and being my husband, has no need to judge me in the light of my chatter. I am very like the obstinate ram that is the symbol of my star sign – banging my head against the same things year after year instead of learning how to avoid them in the first place! I hold out no hopes of learning from these same mistakes however – that is my nature I suppose and I might as well accept it.

I see little Mahi becoming like me. She yaps away like a little puppy – going from topic to topic and delighting us with her wit and observations. I watch her with intense love and a little well of pain in my heart that she too may one day end up like me. I think of the road ahead for her – the learning that she will have to go through all by herself for parents can only guide children and watch as they make some mistakes that are harder than others. I know she will get hurt. I know there will be many who will envy her. I know she will have to face unreasonable jealousy too for she is way too charming and will grow even more so. I see the beginnings of beauty and grace in her supple long-limbed form. She is like a little fawn. She has always been bright like a steady star, the one who lights up the sometimes unbearably dark nights for me. It is on her that I pin my hopes – she has had to grow up faster than the others of her age for I have told her it is her duty to watch over her elder brother.

One part of me looks at her indulgently – seeing myself as a child again except I never had her confidence! The other part of me wishes she would be more like her father – sensible, cool-headed and very responsible. She is still tiny and perhaps in a few years she will be a fine blend of the best characteristics of both her parents with her mother’s passion and creativity and her father’s rock-solid stability. One thing I hope she does not continue to be when she grows up and that is – a chatterbox!