walk alone holding my father's hand

I started walking today. I did not need support of walls, chairs or walkers I was playing. And my mother was in the kitchen. I wanted to go to my mother. My father held my one hand. I held it firmly and moved one step ahead. The sound of my mother's voice gave me the motivation. Her sweet smell and the strange sounds from kitchen pulled me. I made another step. With five or so steps, I was there in the kitchen. My mother was surprised. Her eyes glowed in happiness, as if she is vitnesing the magic moment of flower blossoming. My father held my hands and walked me along. One step at a time, we both walked. I hope many such moments occur in future, in the long beaches of india, parks of newyork, elsewhere, everywhere.

9 months, 20 days