For most, “midnight whispers” evoke mystery, romance, or quiet moments of reflection.

But for me, they’re something entirely different.

They’re my almost two-year-old practicing his newly learned words in the dead of night.

They’re the moments when he forcefully opens my eyes—never waking his mother—just to share his curious thoughts.

One night, he recited a poem in pure gibberish and then drifted back to sleep.

Another night, he played drums on my belly like I was his personal instrument, only to cuddle back into dreams.

There was the time he demanded a bhajan and fell asleep the moment I began singing.

Or when he insisted on seeing the Santa balloon -in the middle of the night.

Or the foggy night when he wanted to spot the water tanks from our 16th-floor balcony but couldn’t, so instead, he demanded we visit ninnu and soyi soyi.

And the most unforgettable—he woke me up just to sleep on his slide. Yes, middle of the night, opened my eyes, asked me to sleep on the slide with him, and then… peacefully fell asleep.

These moments are chaotic, hilarious, and exhausting. But they’re also the purest expressions of love and innocence.

These are my midnight whispers. And I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

Later.