After returning from our eventful visit to Teacher Samira's home, we settled back into our daily routine. Everyone resumed their usual tasks.
Father left to gather herbs, saying, "Now that we have another child in the family, I need to work harder to support everyone."
So it seemed our household income primarily came from foraging herbs. I didn't particularly mind, considering I was found that way myself. Still, I wondered—what would happen during the rainy season? Perhaps he gathered extra in advance to sell in bulk and make up for the days when going out would be impossible.
Once he left, Mother began her chores. She mixed cow dung with water and mud, carefully layering it across the floor.
"Traditional methods—natural pest repellent and disinfectant," I thought.
My brother had already dashed off to play with his friends, while my sister stayed back to help Mother with the layering work.
And me? I was diligently performing one of the most important duties known to babykind—staring at the ceiling. Just like all the babies of the world do.
Impressive, isn't it?
–25 minutes later–
"Sania, hurry up and let me clean you up. You need to get ready for school," Mother called out. "And if you see your brother on the way, tell him too."
"Yes, Mamma! Let's gooo!" Sania chirped, twirling around playfully.
"But what about Smally, Mamma?" she asked with an innocent smile, glancing over at me.
Please no. Can someone tell her not to call me that?
Being a baby is honestly the hardest thing I've ever done—except for maybe trying to make friends.
"Don't worry, I'll look after her. You can barely take care of yourself and you're already worried about her?" Mother teased.
"But she's my little sister. I have to take care of her," Sania replied, puffing out her chest with pride.
"There's no need to worry. That's my responsibility," Mother said warmly, ruffling Sania's hair. "You should focus on studying. Not everyone gets the chance to go to school, you know. You're very lucky to have this opportunity."
"Not every village has someone like Teacher Samira who teaches children for free. So study hard. Maybe you'll get better treatment when you're married, or even find a respectable job—something that involves writing or counting work."
"Okay, Mama! I will study hard and earn lots of money so that you, Papa, and my sister can live happily!" Sania declared with an innocent smile.
Moved by her words, Meera gently embraced her, pulling her into a warm cuddle.
"Oh my sweet girl, you will, I'm sure of it. I love you so much," she said, hugging her tighter with a smile. "But what about your brother? What will he do?"
Sania's smile turned mischievous. "Brother? No way—he always bullies me and messes up my hair! He can make his own money. I won't share mine with him!"
Meera let out a soft laugh. "Alright, my dear girl, if you say so."
She gently ran her fingers through Sania's hair, carefully tidying it and making her presentable for school.
What an innocent and thoughtful child, I thought, observing the scene.
Only three years old, and already helping her mother and thinking about the future—even if it's through the naive words of a child.
She seemed more mature than her five-year-old brother, who spent most of his time running wild.
Perhaps it was because daughters in poor households matured earlier, or maybe it was simply because she spent most of her time beside Mother—watching her work hard and learning from it. Meanwhile, the boy was always outside, chasing after fun.
'Our circumstances and environment shape who we are and who we become,'.
But then I paused, reflecting... Why am I— No, no use thinking too deeply. I had an important task at hand—the noble duty of a baby: staring at the ceiling. Right, no distractions.
Such a tough job, truly.
'My life is really not daijoubu'.
"All done!" Meera finally said, giving Sania a final pat. "Now take your slate and chalk with you, and come straight home after class for lunch."
"Okay, Mama! Bye-bye!" Sania waved cheerfully and trotted off towards school—well, Teacher Samira's house, which served the same purpose.
"Hahhh... Now, back to the rest of my chores—hmm? Kaira, did you fall asleep already?"
Upon hearing her voice, I immediately activated my ultimate technique—Sleepjutsu (Kumbhakarna Version) max level.
[Sleepjutsu: A mystical art where one enters an unbreakable deep sleep—also known as pretending to sleep. No one can tell the difference. Regardless of how much someone tries to wake the user, it's impossible.]
(Description: The world most difficult skill honed by lifelong loner to avoid awkward or embarrassing situations. Only a true master can reach its final form.)
"Huh, what a sleepy little head," she chuckled.
Without hesitation, she picked me up and delivered a series of affectionate attacks—eight kisses total, evenly distributed between my right and left cheek.
Hmph, these attacks are nothing before my ultimate Sleepjutsu (Kumbhakarna version)max level.
Satisfied, she gently laid me back down, covered me with a soft cloth, and resumed her daily chores while I continued my sacred ceiling meditation.
---
Time passes... and passes... and keeps on passing. And just like that, it's been nearly a decade since I arrived in this world.
I still don't know what my purpose here is, but if staring at the ceiling was meant to be my life's calling, I must say—it's exhausting. And the worst part? I have no idea when this job ends.
"Ara~ my little munchkin, you're already awake? And why are you looking at the ceiling so seriously?" Mother said with a playful tone as she picked me up and launched her usual attack—kisses on both of my cheeks.
"It's already afternoon! Your father, brother, and sister will be back soon for lunch—and for you, your favorite goat milk." She gently placed me down and poured warm milk from a pot into a small clay cup.
'Wait... it's only afternoon?'. I was stunned.
Had all that really happened in my mind? Was I dreaming? How could it only be afternoon? Staring at the ceiling must be such an intense task that I completely lost track of time.
Maybe the ceiling is casting some kind of genjutsu on me...
Just kidding.
Just then, the sweet aroma of warm milk reached my nose, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Here, drink slowly, my baby," she said kindly.
And so, I did. What choice did I have? I didn't feel hunger, nor could I sleep—but I had to pretend for their sake. I didn't want to make them worry.
After drinking, I faced a fierce battle—this time against a barrage of kisses on both cheeks. I emerged from it emotionally moved... but also slightly wounded.
Laid back down on my mat, I stared once more at the roof, lost in thought.
'Why do I feel like I've forgotten something...?'. The question echoed in my mind.