Its amazing how much a daughter takes after her mother. I don’t mean just physically but the mannerisms, the twinkle in the eye, the eating habits, the smile, the waving of the hands while speaking are often similar too. All this amazes me every time I look at my two-year-old princess. And there’s something very surreal about seeing a spitting image of you.

When my daughter was born, she looked a lot like my husband. People enthusiastically exclaimed just how much she resembled him. Some even called her a xerox copy of him, except that she was a much sweeter version, better, improved, in a new, little package. Some pitied me openly for having a baby so unlike me. Some felt just plain bad for me. My mom-in-law made me feel better by saying that she had my eyes. And so it continued. Not that I minded it one bit. After all if she resembled my husband, what problem could I have in any case?

But today, two years later my husband feels cheated. Of course, the resemblance to him is still there but people just do not miss the other nuances that are so much like her mother’s. The morning grumpiness when she wants to be quiet and absorb everything, not wanting to talk, the affinity to certain foods and an absolute dislike for others, the way her eyes dance when she speaks, the way she uses her hands to express and underscore her words, her love for attention, each characteristic, each trait is so glaringly mine. Some make me proud, some I am ashamed of. I love the way she talks animatedly, rolling her eyes, but crawl under the bed each time she tells her father to stop chattering in the mornings.

I love her spontaneity but cringe when she without batting an eyelid displays strong headedness. When did I teach her all this? I am sure I didn’t. She just observed, learnt, absorbed and imbibed. Right from the day I conceived her she has been hearing me, hanging on to every word I say. My blood has nurtured her, my heart has loved her and my soul lives in her. How then did I ever think she would be any different than me? The looks can be anyone’s but the fabric she is made of is mine and so it shall always be.

The doctor may have cut the umbilical cord when she was born but the real umbilical cord is the one which connects her heart to mine for life. Long after she flies away to build her own nest somewhere, someone who knows me will notice her  and say, “You are so much of what your mother is” and am sure the wind will carry those words to my ears and they will still be music to my ears as they today are.

Shabia Ravi Walia has been a media professional for the past 15 years, dabbling in production, creative direction and writing. However her biggest achievement, she says is the birth of her baby Sia and penning down the experiences associated with it in her book  ‘Mamma Mania’ (http://www.flipkart.com/books/8184430383).