Little Buddha

Our family’s resident angel, Anu, turned eight on a public holiday.

You’d think a child would be happy to share his birth date with a nation's.

“No fair,” whined Anu, “I can’t have a party because my friends are never in town. This is like the worst day of my life!”

Ungratefulness aside, this youngling is a true gift from the gods above. The humans are still bewildered as to what they did to deserve such a treasure. Anu was born mature, calm, patient, accommodating and easy-going.

Misled by his placid nature and innate composure, the adults willingly ventured into parenthood a second time, naïvely believing brats only happened to other people.

"Well, you started off the same way," observed grandma, massaging hot oil onto mom's parched scalp one Sunday morning. "You were such a pleasure until the day your brother was born. That's when you turned into a rakshasi."

Family lore has it that mom, who ruled the roost for four years until her baby brother stole her thunder, repeatedly pinched the little one while he gurgled in his crib and begged her parents to give him away to a passing beggar woman.

Dad, apparently, has no such skeletons in his closet. "Such a wonderful boy," avows his mother. "A real gem! And I'm not just saying that because he's my son."

Mom has often wondered who her little one most resembled. When Anu was born, both grandmas instantly found quirks and features from their sides of the family. “Great grandfather’s eyes; father’s mouth; grandfather’s color; grandmother’s cousin’s chin; second cousin’s eyebrows .…”

Mom would stare at her bonny baby for hours, trying to find a vague resemblance to her. “Do you think at least his fingernails are like mine?” she’d ask dad, worriedly holding out the baby’s balled-up fist.

Finally, a trip to the neighborhood grocery one fateful day confirmed her nagging apprehension that other than the rolls of fat on Anu’s body, mother and son had little else in common.

“Aww, look at him,” the cashier cooed, as Anu drooled on a teether. “What a sweetheart! Hey, big guy, you sure are cute! I tell you darlin’, he’s gonna be a real heart breaker.”

“Why, thank you,” beamed mom, proudly.

“Look at those pretty eyes! And that killer smile! He sure is a handsome fella,” continued the saleswoman.

As mom collected her purchases with a pearly smile and was about to wish the cashier and everybody else within earshot a wonderful day, such was her happiness, the woman asked, “Does he take after his father?”