One day she may be a mother, a grandmother, a wisened or withered great- grand mother even, telling stories to her own young ones.
One day, she may belong to someone else. Someone, who i hope will love her, as fervently as i do, even more so, someone who cherishes her sweetness, her softness and preserves it for as long as it can be.
But for today, she is my own little one, so gentle, her hands soft like velvet, her skin smooth like silk, her eyes so full of glint, her mind so full of questions. "Mummy, why is the heart more important than the brain?" "Because, my sweety, the heart rules the brain", and you rule my heart.
Dear daughter, I love you more than love itself, and for today , you are my love and only mine.
If only love could be bottled, and preserved for ever, just the purest of mother's love.
Regards, Aina Rao The amblingindian.
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