Baby Koala On  Daddy Tree

I took the local metro train just the other day to go to another end of Melbourne from where I live. It was just after dropping my kids off to school, just after peak hour in the morning. It was about 9.30am when I got on the train.

I found a seat near the doors, but two rows away from them. Usually the rows nearest to the doors are special seats - upon request they need to be given up for people with special needs. As we passed a couple of stations, all the seats filled up.

A young couple and a couple of old ladies came over. People moved to give them the seats near the doors. There was a young mother with her baby in her arms and the pram next to her. Several older men and women stood near the doors - they were still proud and able to stand and perhaps others were aware and sensitive, not to offend them by offering up a seat unless asked. In general, I have found that Melbourne people are very kind, polite, thoughtful and sensitive. I am always impressed by their helpful nature.

As we passed more stations more people got in than got out. It was getting crowded, but not jam packed. I noted that most of my fellow travellers, both young and old, these days were 'phubbing (phone-snubbing)' - looking into their smart phones or little tablets while apparently ignoring the people around them.

As my gaze went around from the scenery outside to the people within, I suddenly saw a cute, pretty little face, framed by lovely, long golden hair that went from straight to waves to curls at the very tips below the shoulders, appear in the middle of two adults standing and rise up to adult height. The charming blue eyes were surrounded by slightly red-streaked whites - must have been tired or had been rubbed lately.

The natural red lips held a smile of satisfaction as two little arms appeared around the neck of a man who stood with his shoulders leaning against the metal pole near the door, facing away from me. The person standing next to the man moved slightly and a little leg appeared between them, shod in pretty little shoes, stockings and a longish denim skirt over it. I could only see the side of the man's face from behind, a reddish beard that was soon covered as the little girl snuggled her face next to his, and rested her face near his collar bone. One arm of the little girl covered her face as she buried her face in the comfortable space. I could only see her golden head and one eyebrow, her hands clasped together behind the man's neck, with a large brown leaf still in her hand. She must have picked it up from play recently and it was probably intended for her own private collection at home. I reckoned the little girl would be about 3 years of age, her full circle of arms just barely fit around the man's neck. She took a peeping look around, with one eye roving, visible over the arm that hid her face. I could tell it was her dad, the way she seemed to be on a familiar perch.

The chatter of the passengers, one playing loud music, some talking loudly on the phone, the shake and rattle of the train and the crowds pressing around did not seem to matter. The gentle rocking motion of the train seemed to lull the little girl to sleep. The little girl looked like a Koala bear cub sleeping on Daddy Tree! It is amazing how parents create a little safe, comfort space, like a cocoon around their little ones, in the midst of heat, crowds, noise, movement and hazards.

It suddenly reminded me of my own little ones, when they were younger, just the other day it seems (actually few years ago). My daughter would climb on to me and I remembered the touch. I knew how that dad felt. It was one of the best feelings in the world. I would sometimes have both my kids, one on either side (or one piggy back and the other draped on my chest). We would be returning home from a late footy game or a day out on the town, riding the train back to where we lived in the suburbs. The pram was for all the bags and stuff. I was the preferred vehicle while on a crowded train if we did not find seating, or when we walked home from the station.

As the stations passed and we neared the city centre, more passengers got out than got in. The crowds thinned, and I noted that the man was still standing - like a bent tree, with his shoulder resting on the metal pole with his hips outwards, while he supported the little girl with the sling made of his hands clasped together. He had tried to give the girl as much of a horizontal incline as his body would allow in that position. He could have turned around and anyone would have given their seat. He did not move at all. The little girl continued to sleep, with the big brown leaf still clasped in her hand, behind her father's neck. I remembered that I too preferred to stand and hold my kids more comfortably if they wanted to sleep rather than sitting in a crowded train or bus. As the crowds thinned out, the seats near the door become empty and still the man remained as we passed more stations. Suddenly the little girl woke up, with a yawn she smothered with one hand, careful not to let go of her leaf. She was then set down gently and held on to the man's legs.

I had to get up and get off at the next station. As I passed the man and his girl, I noted that he all along had another little boy, older than the girl, who was standing next to him and had his arms around his waist, and standing on one of the foot of his father, while his sister stood on the other foot.

One look at the man and I could tell why he was a happy father with happy kids! He reminded me of myself, just a few years ago. Those times are gone quickly and gone for ever.

"Enjoy them while you can," I wished it silently to the man as I got off the train!



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2013

All rights reserved