To my dearest son, my simba, my connect-to-the-disassociated world, To my fatigue, my smile and my jargon, To my jinga-boli, aabad-daabad , shoochi-poochi, To my cold food and messy-hair-in-a-bun, To my pee-ed and poop-ed pajamas, To my 4:00am conversations and dark circles, To my cerelac, daliya, khichdi-smelling kitchen, To my long-fancy-nails cut short, To my hair flicks pinned with a clip, To my panic, my rest, To my complaints and prayers, And most importantly, to my indelible happy soul, I love you to the moon and back, And all other planets in the Universe.