My Niece - Part 3

Previous posts on the beat of my heart (i.e., my niece): Part I, Part II

Continuing from last time . . .

I should take a picture of my room to show y’all. It’s a nursery—no, wait, a better term would be a zoo. There’s really no point in my cleaning it ‘cause every time I do, she brings back her toys and all the prayer rugs she wants me to play with her on (I’ll explain the prayer rugs part in a sec). And every time I organize my books in my itty bitty library in my room, she pulls them all out to kiss each one because she thinks all books are sacred—and they are. But she has a different idea about them: She thinks they’re Qurans, and my mom has taught her that you are to kiss the Quran and treat it with deep respect because it’s God’s Word. So now, every time she sees a book, whether a religious book or not, she goes, “Lllah!” (her version of “Allah,” or, in this case,  “Allah’s Book”). She also says that to all types of writings because there’s a calligraphy piece attached to almost all of the doors in our house that have “Allah” or the Basmallah or some other important Islamic symbol written on it, and one of her first words, albeit not as early as my Mom would have liked her to say, was “Lllah”! Preciousness, I knoooww! So that’s the reason for her thinking that all books and writings are sacred.

And, oh God! You should hear her saying that something belongs to her and her only! “’s MINE,” she says, almost with full force, while lightly hitting her hand against her chest to assure you.  And good luck to you in claiming it’s yours then. 

Oh, and she has learned to say my nickname (Shanu), so she utters it all day long! :D That means I’m her favorite aunt, right? Of course it does. Unfortunately, of course, being the best and most favorite thing in her world comes with its consequences: She has to shout out my name and knock on my door early in the morning when she wakes up and I’m enjoying a good sleep, especially during these past holidays. And it’s not like she comes in just to say hello, good morning, I love you, I missed you, how was your night, did you have sweet dreams, etc., you know. She comes in to pull my arm and make me play with her. 

Funniest thing is, she has this idea that everyone around or under the age of 10 is a baby but SHE is not! We went to a gathering last weekend where Kashmala pointed to a family friend’s daughter, 11 years old, and said, “Baby!” We were all like, “No, no, Maloo, that’s not a baby!” LOL.

More later, folks.