Her name is Aish. Baby Aish. And she has a licence to kick.

Dearest baby Aish,

Hope you’re doing well, sweetheart. How’s the food and accommodation there? I hope it’s to your liking. Do you have Internet access? I know you’re being taken care of very well, but I can’t help but worry and panic. Ever since your Mom told me about you, every now and then my heart rate goes up and I go thru a weird form of internal shivering. I have to often stop myself from thinking about you because it makes me giddy with anxiety. (And if they have Internet in there, you would know from my blog how 'fond' I am of collapsing in public places.) So I have decided to try and not think of you too much till I see you. And that's in about four months' time. (Yeay!)

Do you know, baby Aish, that you’re the result of a million wishes and prayers? Do you know that there is a bunch of people whom you don’t know, who just can’t wait to see you? Soon, you’re gonna have a bunch of adoring eyes peering down at you. Some you will like and you’ll smile at them, and make intellectual statements like “Ggglllbbbblllgooogeee”. Some you will hate, and you’ll pee and throw up on them. And most of these people come in pairs. A pair of parents, a pair of maternal grandparents, a pair of paternal grandparents.

But there will be one face peering down at you, which I’m hoping will be your favourite face. Other than your parents’, of course. And that one doesn’t come in a pair.

That will be your masi.

As you know, your Mom and I have always been complete opposites. For most of my years, in spite of being the younger one, I have always felt this compulsive need to protect her from the big bad world. And now, I’m freaking out at the thought of my 'baby sister' giving birth to another living, kicking baby. So listen up missy, easy with those kicks there, that’s my sister, okay?? Otherwise I will kick your ass when you grow up and run to me with your boyfriend problems.

I have always maintained that pregnant women are crazy. Perhaps it’s the hormones or whatever. And your Mom is no exception. Do you know what she did? She sent me your ultrasonography picture, called me up and excitedly asked, “Did you see the picture did you see the picture did you see the picture???? Don’t you think she looks exactly like your Jeeju??”

“Uhhh… ummmm… Uhhhh…”

I soon ran out of uhhhs and ummms and realised she was impatiently waiting for my response. That’s another scary side of her that the pregnancy has brought out – impatience and extremity of emotions. And trust me, nothing’s scarier than an angry pregnant woman. Not wanting to get the first scolding from her in all my 25 years, I whispered to myself, “Say something, Sayesha! Anything!”

“Errr... I can’t tell whom she looks like... I don’t know how people do it! I will only be able to tell when she’s like... uhhh... five or so?"

"Hmmm... okay... " She sounded disappointed.

I had to say something to make up for it. So I said, "But you know what??"

“What?” She asked excitedly.

“No matter whom she looks like, she’s gonna be exactly like me!” I said triumphantly.

Stony silence from her.

I think I alarmed your Mom with that statement.

Okay fine, don’t be like me. Be a bit more conventional. Don’t run around the neighbourhood bashing up guys. No gangs in school. Have a few female friends too. Believe me, they’re really not that bad. Don’t watch too many Bollywood movies. Don't go so nuts over Hindi songs that they play in your head even when you are sleeping. Don't take off on random holidays by yourself. Don’t have a crazy blog. Don’t pick a profession that has nothing to do with what you study in university. Don’t laugh when someone suggests an arranged marriage for you. And oh, very importantly, don’t read masi’s blog.

Alternatively, you may choose to completely ignore the paragraph above (I suggest you do that, but shhh… it’s between you and me only. Don’t tell your Mom, okay?)

They say a baby in the womb can hear things outside. I’m sure your parents are talking to you and playing nice music to you. Wish I were there to talk to you, sing to you, perhaps read out a few of my posts to you about the childhood days of your Mom and me. And you can laugh at grandpa’s and grandma’s first encounter with computers.

We have so much to talk about, Aish. I can’t seem to be able to wait. You signify the beginning of such a beautiful chapter of our lives. You will have a great life, we’re all there for you.

And all said and done, I want to share with you three words that will take you through life and make it a breeze. The three words that will put right everything that goes wrong. Three words that will always be with you all through. Three words that will come to your aid whenever you are in distress. Three words that you must remember like a chant.

You know the three words I’m talking about, don’t you?

Masi’s the best.