Meraki

Every once in a while, I like to flip through old photo albums and watch those poor quality videos of my toddler self. It's quite an emotional experience. Some of it is hilarious-Ridiculous dancing to the wind, staring at the ground in betrayal because it didn't cushion me when I landed on it, hiding all the return gifts because I didn't want to give those shiny purses away. (I look like an evil goblin in that picture) There's one video where my hand is fractured. My mom is talking about how she's worried that my grandparents would be saddened if they knew. Little Priya then came up with a scheme.  "Let's lie to them, then. We'll say that we are having a blast, there are no injuries, we are eating cake," I say, my voice swaying. "So they'll feel happy and we will suffer in secret," I declare with the most pained expression a child can have.   How did my young mind come up with such ideas?  These captured memories...