ARYA THE BABYSITTER
Arya looked on in horror as the baby began to cry louder and louder, and his face got redder and redder in the process. Babies are not as wonderful as they first appear, he thought, his fear turning into panic as the baby did not show any signs of stopping.
He was in charge of his mother’s friend’s little son, till his mother and her friend went to the shops and returned. The baby had been asleep when they left him, promising to return in less than an hour – but much to Arya’s dismay, a few minutes after they left the baby had woken up howling.
What made babies happy? Arya thought desperately. Well he remembered seeing them being carried and rocked. Maybe that would work? He reached out gingerly and slipped his hand around the baby who was still crying at the top of his lungs. The baby, with a twist and a bounce rolled away from him, his crying turning into a louder, angrier howl.
Oh no! Babies were not only these terrifying, yowling creatures but they were slippery too. Determined to stop the crying, Arya grabbed him around the waist, held him fast and began to rock him as fast as he could. The baby stopped his crying, but only for a moment, he stared in horror at Arya who was knocking the breath out of him and then with renewed vigour began to scream aloud once more.
Arya began to take him around the house and tried to play with him. “Look at this car!” he pointed but it was met with more crying. “Look it’s a butterfly,” he said pointing at thin air, hoping that he could trick the baby into silence, but it hardly helped.
Arya’s shirt was wet with the baby’s tears and he felt like crying himself now. Was the hour up already? Why weren’t they home? Why would they leave a baby with a 12-year-old who had never even held one before? Arya rocked the baby back and forth one more time looking at the clock in the living room.
“What can I do? What can I do?” he thought and then it struck him. “Singing, I could try that.”
And then Arya went on to sing the only song he knew:
“Baby baby baby baby babyyy!
Epa Baby dangakaranna! Baby baby baby baby babyyy Lassana Ayahta keekaruwanna….”
He sang at the top of his voice, and looking down he found the baby staring at him with curiosity, all crying stopped. Arya continued singing louder and louder for a good five minutes. Soon the baby was wriggling out of his arms and clapping his hands and dancing in circles.
Relieved Arya paused to catch his breath, but he could not do that for long because the little boy began to cry again shouting: “Ya ya babyyyy! Ya ya babyyyyy!”
He wanted him to continue, and Arya would do anything to not hear that howling again so he kept singing: “Baby baby baby baby babyyy!”
And that is how half-anhour later Arya’s mother and her friend found him, singing hoarsely at the top of his lungs, with the baby dancing and clapping beside him.
“Oh he woke up!” said his mother’s friend beaming from ear to ear. The little boy ran to his mother and she hugged him closely. “Thank you so much for taking care of him!”
Arya smiled weakly and did not say a word, he did not have the strength to open his mouth. He lay down on his bed a few minutes later, exhausted. He had learnt two things that day: Babies were not as innocent as they looked and he would never be able to listen to that song ever again, for the rest of his life!
“Why would anyone have babies anyway?” he asked himself with a sigh. “They are such terrifying creatures.” And Arya felt himself slipping into peaceful sleep.