It’s been 36 months since I started hearing the noise. Initially, it did not bother me, as the intensity was really low. It was heard occasionally and I used to find it amusing. I never understood the source of the noise. However, the intensity of the noise increased with time. It started taking my concentration and time away from the daily important chores. The minute I hear the noise, there was a compelling need to figure out the source of the noise and to dampen it.
Slowly, the noise begun to disturb my sleep. There were sleepless nights spent on wondering about the source of the noise. And for the peaceful nights, there were thoughts on what has happened to the noise. As time flew, the noise became more intense and there were days when I could not figure out the reason behind the noise.
It followed me everywhere that I went. It played tricks with me. I began to get obsessed about this noise. I tried to forget about the noise and to concentrate about the work in hand, in vain. I began to imagine the noise, in its absence. I realized that the noise has became an integral part of my life.
Now, I cannot imagine my life without the noise. What would I do without hearing the giggles, laughs, coos and cries of my little one?