As I sit on the bed now, I am watching Sid read the book intently. I am waiting patiently for him to finish before I tuck him in and kiss good night. I don't want to stop him nor call him to say that it is time. I am living every moment watching him and wondering when it happened?

Sid seems all grown up. I cannot but help feel a tug in my heart. My little baby, now all of six, reading on his own. One more step to adulthood. One more lesson learnt and the bedtime story ritual which was till the other day a coveted time together for us is history.

Motherhood is crazy. In fact, insane. This is what I had actually worked for. I wanted Sid to read and enjoy reading. I read copiously day after day from the time, he was barely a year old. And now, when, my efforts are showing such remarkable results, I am actually sad. Can I get back to the time when I read to him? Or live those moments when I made up parts of the story because I knew something in the story would make him sad?

When people watch Sid read, they all have good things to say. I have to accept, it is a great feeling and I feel proud. But, deep down I know it has come at a price - our time together. Of course, I do have my other priced possession - memory, but I don't know how many moments I can live through them.

I suddenly find myself reminiscing about the time we went to bed after discussing which book was to be read. I would then read aloud complete with occasional gasps, a variety of expressions and pauses. Occasionally, I would stop, and we both would marvel at the bright pictures. Sometimes, when Sid read, I would hold the book upright for him, just in case he would find it difficult. But today I am grappling with the new reality of his ability to read silently, devouring page after page while I wait. I am surprised I never saw this coming.

Little accomplishment

I still remember the day, when Sid was able to reach the switch to turn on the lights. As the bulb came to life, he leapt in air filled with pride at having grown up. I did, too. I was happy, thrilled and proud of his little accomplishment. But soon, I realised, he didn't need me to follow him to his room to fetch a toy because, he could work the switch on his own. He was now 'big'. This was three years ago.

Little by little, Sid is learning more and more about life, one baby step at a time. I am happy but can't help wondering, "will he need me any more?"

As I watch him, with mixed emotions of pride and sadness, Sid suddenly pauses. "Did you know that they said 'thoo' for 'you' in olden days?" he asks.

"It is 'thou'," and I correct him, helping him grasp the right pronunciation. I am suddenly happy. Happy to be of help.

Yes, I know, I can lead the way and guide him all the way. If he stops confused, I want him to know I will always hold out my hand to help and it would make me happy no end. Sid looks up and catches me looking at him adoringly. He hugs me and then asks me if he can just finish the chapter before going to bed. Well, I guess, I have to let him do that.

Sudha Subramanian is an independent journalist based in Dubai.