Counting Bogies: My Train of Thoughts...

_{A moment of pride for me is witnessing my child doing something I wouldn't dare to attempt.}

---

---

I'm taking a break from my travel diaries. My apologies if you were waiting for them, or perhaps you're too busy to read my articles. Either way, I just wanted to let you know that I'm in a more contemplative mood today.

We were standing at a railway crossing yesterday, waiting for the train to pass. And the childhood Maan in me woke up. I started to eagerly wait for the arrival of the train. I didn't have to wait too long before I could see a bright yellow-white light coming from the left of the track.

Then I noticed it was a cargo train and not a passenger one. I was a little disappointed because I always liked watching the passengers of the passing by trains. Well, I could only see the ones from economy class because the AC parlors don't have any passengers peeping outside the windows.

Anyways, I started to count the bogies (coaches, in Urdu we simply call them bogies, a misnomer) of the 'mall gari' (مال گاڑی). And they turned out to be 41. After the train had crossed, I asked my husband if he ever counted those bogies as a kid, to which he looked at me with a 'whaaaaaaat expression' and replied, "No". And I said jokingly, "You were too poised for a kid."

Just then, my daughter said, "Mama, weren't they 41?" And I felt a wave of satisfaction or maybe a little euphoria that she inherited some of those genes from me. But wait: Is that even a good thing???

Whenever I notice a striking resemblance of one of my traits in my children, I start to wonder: is it even worth it? Did they truly inherit those genes from me that made me insecure about myself once, caused anxiety, or affected my health? Will they also suffer from arthritis one day, or inherit other weaknesses from me? Why couldn't I focus on the positives? Did they inherit those advantageous genes from their dad as well, perhaps to balance out the less desirable ones, or vice versa? It's not that I only fixate on the troublesome aspects. It's just that I want nothing but the best for my children. But, I guess genes don't work like this. You get the whole package: good and bad both!

_{Yes, I can do dirt biking, just not rock climbing...}

As they grow up, I keep seeing glimpses of my childhood in them. My eldest daughter shares my propensity for melancholy. My son shares my habit of getting along with siblings (and cousins) of both higher and lower tiers (in age). And the other daughter; well, she is a mix of everything and everyone on both sides of the family. Being particular like her grandfathers from both sides, easily annoyed like me, high maintenance like her aunt (پھوپھو), and super considerate like her father, yet she has a personality of her own.

Also, as you get older, you keep realizing that you're turning into your parents. As @bambuka has pointed out several times, I look just like my mother, and it's not just the physical aspects. Though people used to relate my features to my dad more, as I age, I started resembling my mom more, even acquiring the same expressions subconsciously. As a parent, I find my mom coming out of my mouth all the time! The exact same phrases sometimes. It's quite amusing when I react like my mom and get the same reaction from my daughters as I would react towards my mom. It's both funny and fascinating how our behaviors tend to repeat across generations.

I won't bore you with a genetics lesson; and I am definitely not here to give you a lecture on the importance of genes or their science. Think of it as a sneak peek into my slightly wacky brain because that's how my train of thought went when my daughter counted its bogies, just like me...Lol.

_{Note: All pictures and GIFs are the product of my camera in tandem with me}