My little piano player.

You know those fathers who sit in the front row of their children's performance, however mediocre, or even horrid, and cheer and clap and applaud and whistle and tell everyone that it is their kid up there on the stage, in the process, making a fool of themselves, embarrassing the child as well as anyone in the vicinity, behaving in a juvenile fashion not befitting their otherwise eminent station in their professional and personal life and the sobriety and gentlemanly behaviour they are usually known for?

Well, I just realised I am going to be one of them.

P.S: I was just sitting around pondering life as I sipped my chai when I heard her practice, and just had to film her without her knowledge. By the way, I am so lucky that rarely do I have to tell her to practice what she learns in class, whether piano, chess, Mandarin, mathematics, or English. It is only for Hindi and Marathi that I have to push. But everything else is self-driven. And I am happy. Except for that posture. She needs to sit straighter. And in case you are wondering, such feedback has been conveyed and a promise extracted to sit in the 'Queen' position from now onwards. What a cute little baby bear she is, isn't she?