That Elusive Ice-Cream

I talk. A lot. And this is an understatement really. If you know me beyond this blog you will have no problem believing me. And if you don't, well, believe it. Talking was something i've done well all my life. As a 4 yr old, i was introduced to my best friend's extended family as the girl who taught her how to talk. Go figure. And when the family went on a road trip (which, for an 8 yr old me was the hour long drive from the suburbs to *town*), i had a captive audience in the parents and sister.

Of course, dad would decide to use the opportunity to help me build some character, and of course, learn to hold my tongue for at least a few minutes (if not for the entire drive). What would he do? What any parent with a modicum of common sense would. Bribe me. And so dad would promise to get me ice-cream if i could stay quiet for 5 minutes. Not difficult you say? It's just 5 minutes after all right? Yeah well. Let's just say, 5 minutes is quite a lot of time, and back then, it felt like *ages*.

And now. Almost like the universe is making up for all those 5 minutes i never managed to keep quiet, i find myself forced to keep quiet as prescribed by the doctor. Ok so the entire left side of my face is killing me and not talking is making it better. But still. No one who knows me can imagine a quiet me. Even people who've met me once for a couple of hours are finding it difficult to believe. And my dad is just tickled at the idea and takes immense pleasure in going sshhh if i open my mouth to say anything.

It's been 3 days of no talking (10 minutes in 72 hours doesnt count) and i think i'm ready for that ice-cream now. With interest.

Of ABCs

A long time back i wrote this. The same friend is now mother to a year and some months old infant. Now considering that she got pregnant about 6 months after her newfound interest in books, she found herself reading up on pregnancy, what to expect and all that. Of course, since she bought her first pregnancy book in month 4, she skipped the first 3 chapters. Why read up what has already happened right?

Anyway, now that she is a responsible parent she is taking the buying of books very very seriously. And so picture books, nursery rhymes, story books and of course, alphabet books are being bought whenever possible. Now one would imagine the imparting of knowledge from picture books or alphabet books wouldn't be much of a challenge right? Wrong.

For starters, picture books are not what they used to be. So when she picked up a book on dogs, she expected cute stuff like cartoon dogs and lots of *bow wows*. Instead she gets a mini encyclopedia on the various breeds of dogs, most of which she can't even pronoune. So she decides to do the easy thing and tackle the english language. But apparently my friend is more than a little stumped when showing her boy letters of the alphabet. Why? Because ABCs arent what they used to be my friend. No siree.

No more does A say Apple, or C say Cat or F say Fish.

A says Ambulance.

C says Camera.

F says Fire Engine

The poor woman is having to relearn everything because when she says A and Apple in the same sentence, the poor kid is left looking at the photo on an ambulance.

Oh, and Z says something called Zeebu.

Yes. You read that right. Any wonder that the poor girl is baffled?

The Song and Dance Routine

Everyone I know has a childhood memory involving a living room full of guests, benignly smiling parents, and a polite “beta, uncle aunty ko gaana sunao”. I don’t think many of us get through ages 3-10 without having shown off our verbal/musical skills to anybody who happened to be passing through the house. It begins with A-B-C-D, moves onto Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (complete with actions) and then to random songs taught by a music-teacher. And if you happen to be the lucky (ha ha) few with some talent at a musical instrument or possess dance prowess, then there are the performance based shows.

I wonder why parents put the apples-of-their-eye through such extreme embarrassment. Or better yet, why they, who can out of the corner of their eye catch the poor child trying to sneak a toffee, are totally oblivious to the obvious reluctance and distress that is plastered all over the afore mentioned child’s face.

Luckily for me, I was an obstinate, pig-headed child with no obvious talents (the little I had, I hid under tantrums) so I wasn’t pushed into unwanted limelight very often.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for my sister. She was the traumatised child standing/sitting at every family/friends gathering there happened to be and singing the latest song her teacher had taught her. She was the one who was trying to plead with her eyes, while smiling politely (for the benefit of the aunties) to be let off the hook just this once. She was the one who, before getting to any party, would be instructed by the parents that she would have to sing, and to have songs ready in her head. She is the one who will probably need therapy for all of the above.

I always figured that once we grow out of frilly frocks and multicoloured doll shaped pins (the things that mothers put us in!) we also grow out of talent showcases. I was mistaken. Recent events have proven that parents (and parent-figures around us) apparently will forever for the duration of our lives (or at least hopefully only till we become parents ourselves) have that scary power of putting us in the spot in front of a bunch of uncles and aunties. And even now, after years of suffering through it, the experience is as (if not more) directly out of a horror show as it ever was.

Freud believed that our childhood experiences shape who we become as adults. I for one know that my childhood experiences (vicarious as they may be) have ensured that my children will never grow up to hear those dreaded words – “Beta uncle aunty ko gaana sunao…”

Games children play (or dont play)

There was a piece in the papers today (one of the several colourful, ad-filled, bollywood news flashing supplements). It mentioned how playing will really not help children with their obesity.
I have a simple question.Will playing help children NOT reach a state of obesity?

In India there is this unfortunate love of plump babies and chubby toddlers. You see a 2 yr old child with cheeks like chipmunks and all the women go cootchy-coo and maternal and oddly scary (what with the cheek pulling – the child’s, not their own- and funny faces that are meant to be amusing!).
Grandparents constantly feel their grandchild is being malnourished and ill-treated and thus give in to any demands made by their precocious (!!) darling (which, at a young age mainly involves eating anything remotely junk and unhealthy and buying anything that will allow them hours in front of the computer/tv).

Which brings me to why I started writing this. Children today do not play anymore. At least they don’t play in the traditional meaning of the word. Their play is more sitting at home in front of the computer with joysticks in your hand type of play. Their play involves weekly outings to the closest mall with a gaming arena.
Obviously play is not going to help with their obesity, except perhaps to be a cause of it!

What will help children avoid obesity (and also control it) is a more traditional form of playing. The kind of playing we participated in when we were children (as much as I don’t like to think about it, I am growing old!!!).

The games we played gave us as good a full body workout as anything – be it Sankhli where we struggled to either get away from a human chain encircling us or remain part of the chain and run behind others, or Lagori that had us running helter skelter after 7 stones of varying sizes and at the same time dodging missiles being thrown by the opposing team. Then there were the all time favourites, Hide and Seek, Langdi (a strenuous exercise!), Hop Scotch (oh the agony of not being able to make ‘houses’!), Lock and Key (a strain indeed on not being able to move), Kho-Kho (oh my what fun), and Dodge ball (oh my what a pain).

Parents fail to see the value of such games. They fail to realise that one hour of playing kho-kho or langdi will help their child (in more ways than one, but that I will leave for another time) much more than one hour on the treadmill.

Today children probably do not even know of these games. What they will know is the address of the closest gym.

The Inheritence of Anxities

Meditation training for toddlers.
See anything unnatural about this?

In my mind toddlers are loud, noisy, active, dirty, annoying maybe at times. Never meditating. But then the toddlers in my mind are also not stressed and overworked and suffering from performance anxiety!

Parents keep mouthing off about increasing competition in todays world and staying on top of things as a rationale for involving their children in activities beyond their skill (and in all prbability comprehension). The only thing they should be worrying about is how to get their child to take a nap for more than 15 mins a day!

Instead, children are now worrying about being able to spell Chrysanthemum (even i cant spell it correctly!). They're worrying about keeping their clothes clean while painting. They're worrying about keeping the sides of their mouth clean while eating.

Where did childhood go? When did the carefree and happy existence of being a child transform into as painful a period of development as lets see, adulthood?

A 5 yr old child is already struggling to make sense of where the sun goes at night and why he has to eat green veggies. He doesn't need the added burden of making sure his hands dont get dirty when playing in the sand box!!!

How is this happening? What happened to children doing what children are meant to do - get dirty, wet, be loud, noisy??

Parents happened.

Parents and their desires to breed the perfect child happened.

Parents who forget their own noisy, dirty and fun food filled childhood happened.

If a parent is constanlty fussing about keeping the child's face clean while eating the child is bound to believe that getting dirty is a bad thing. A parent who reserves his hugs and kisses for when the child gets a star on his worksheet is going to believe that only doing the best is what will get him love. A parent who is overly anxious about being the perfect parent is bringing up a child who is anxious about being the perfect child.

Every parent wants to be the best. Every parent wants to give his child everything he could possibly want.

I say give the child love, good food, a warm bath and a glass of milk, a story and a hug. Give the child your genes,your hair, your eyes, smile and sense of humour. But parents please.

Dont give them your anxities. Its bad enough you're living with them.

The Blame Game

For the last week the papers have been all about Adnan Patrawala, the 16 yr old boy who was kidnapped and murdered. Murdered by some of Adnan's friends ranging in age from 17 to 28 yrs of age.

For a week now, Mumbai has been told and retold the story of Adnan. It is fast becoming one of those tales that grab the interest and emotion of the people in the city. One of those stories that has everyone gripped, that has everyone giving an opinion, that has everyone playing the blame game.
It started with blaming a popular social networking site on which Adnan had met his alleged murderers. Then there was some woman called Angel who was also on this networking site. Then it was the group of friends whom he spent a lot of time with, and who have been arrested on account of murder. Now the police has been blamed for leaking the news of the kidnapping to the media, and the media has been blamed for flashing this news all over the place, which apparently caused the kidnappers to panic and strangle Adnan.

In all of this, i have only one query.
What is the role of the parents in this whole tragedy?
From the regular reports in the newspaper, (a) it seems that a 16 year old Adnan had use of a very expensive car, (b) that he was allowed to stay out late at night and (c) that his parents had no idea of what people he met online.
As someone who has studied developmental psychology, the above 3 don't seem right to me.

A 16 yr old does not have the skills to handle the sort of independence that is given now a days. They still require supervision. They still need guidance. They still need limits. Adnan had the sort of freedom that can get dangerous for a young teenager. He had access to big cars, big money and no limits. He was easy target. His parents never questioned him staying out post midnight. His parents never questioned who his friends were and how he knew them. His friends had counted on that. They took a chance. Unfortunately for them and for Adnan, they succeeded.

I'm not insensitive to the loss of the Patrawala family. My condolences are with them.
But i hope this incident is an eye opener for those parents who allow their children whatever they want. It is all right to trust your children. But how do u trust others?
The only one to trust is yourself. The blame game never gets anyone anywhere.