Kowshic was, or rather “is”, my first kid. I consider him so as he was the first baby whom I had an opportunity to handle (sans the nappy changing part!) and play around for a long time. I loved him. I adored him. I would have destroyed anything or anyone that even remotely tried harming him, for he was pure. Pure goodness, genuine emotions, infectious smile, innocence untouched by vagaries of our politically correct lifestyle in public, rank opposite in private. Isn’t it the reason why we love most of the babies? I, for one, haven’t had any repulsive feelings towards any babies. I find them cute. All the people I have been around also feel the same. So they have told me. So far so good. This post is not about Kowshic though. It is about our love towards toddlers like him. How genuine it is? Often, the true character of a person comes out in times of grave crisis. One such crisis in personal life, which I see in quite a few people, had thrown this thought at me, couple of years back. T...
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