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Tuesday 17 January 2017

What's More Important For My Kid Rather Than Catching the School Bus?



Early mornings are a little tricky, even if you are really good at math, you will be surprised that things don't really add up in the mornings. From the time my kid wakes up to the time she is delivered to the school bus for her day in school, I don't know with what logic we work. But I have learnt one thing for sure, morning-sickness during pregnancy is God's way of preparing the mother for the morning-frenzy that follows once the kid comes to be!

So when I tell my eight year old to get up, it takes her exactly 10 minutes to get up, by then her time to be at the bus stop is just 40 minutes away. She then goes for the short-trip to toilet and forgets to get up, 5 minutes goes there. It takes her a good 10 minutes to brush her teeth, and then she has her milk in another 5, by now there are only 20 minutes before she has to be dropped to the bus stop. 10 minutes is for her long-trip to the loo. Then she gets into the shower, and gets into her elaborate school uniform, has a quick snack and I tie her two ponies and she is ready to get to the bus stop: in 15 minutes. A total of 25 minutes! But didn't we have just 20 to begin with? Still she caught the bus!!! What happened to my math????  

At the bus stop, I meet her friend's mom, she too wonders with priceless expressions and gestures in accompaniment: how she ever got her daughter to the bus stop at all. We are at loss, someone has to tell us where these extra minutes came from! It’s probably the Tooth Fairy, Tinker Bell, Santa Clause, Harry Potter, Casper-the-friendly-ghost, all of them together, or one per day in a round robin fashion, granting their wishes in vast abundance and bringing this miracle about! I don't know, but I am glad for this daily miracle. 

Let’s do a slow motion review of the morning tizzy, I know it’s hard to slow it down while your blood pressure rises even as you think of the early morning ritual. Hmmmph, but an action replay may reveal something of interest, you see I learnt it from the ingenious ‘Dangal’, it works:

Morning Tizzy 1- Now as I count the moments, the kid is counting the sketch pens, meticulously arranging her pencil box, which she should have done last evening and did not. Surely this is really important for her!! The order of her sketch pen in her pencil box is more important than getting ready to get to the school bus!

Morning Tizzy 2- As she has her milk, I look at the watch and then turn to something I was doing, packing her lunch or getting her uniform in place etc. and then I realise that she is lazily yawning and stretching after her milk, surely that is more important than catching the bus!

Morning Tizzy 3- When I ask her to get up from the loo and get on with other things, she ignores it and continues to be there. And of-course it is after-all the beginning of her day and this is important. What's the big deal with the bus and all?

Morning Tizzy 4- when she gets in the shower, she just stays there till I shout at her. Ooer! Why spoil the early morning bath for something as boring as a bus? 

Morning Tizzy 5- When she sits down to wear her shoes, she makes sure every crease in her socks is carefully removed. Her feet should touch the far end of her shoes in the right angle, or else it has to be done all over again. This one is certainly not to be compromised to catch a teensy-weensy school bus

Morning Tizzy 6- When she eats her early morning laddoo- I give her a-laddoo-a-day every morning, don't ask me why not an-apple-a-day, that too, it goes in her breakfast box. She picks on her laddoo at a caterpillar's pace and refuses to eat it as she walks to the bus stop. So she has to finish it at home, and she has to take her time doing it. Now eating her early morning treat at leisure: that far out-shines running to catch the school bus.

Morning Tizzy 7- And when she is all ready and getting out of the house FINALLY!!! She freezes still, in the middle of the room and shouts from right there, mind you, NOT as she walks out of the house, "Mamma look the doggy peed right here!!!" Now why is this not more important than running in a crazy frenzy to catch the school bus?

I wrote another piece some time back '5 Things To Do To Help Your Kid To Hurry Up and Get Ready'. Mothers have a way of believing they know how to manage their kiddos, poor dear me! Well, I am still completely out-shone by my little devil. As we parents panic around over meaningless motives, they want to just BE. We keep trying to put them in a mould, and they keep striving for that space where they can be totally themselves. While I wish she wins in this daily tug-of-war and not me, I also hope she is ready and at the bus stop in time every day! Are these goals contradictory? Oh don't start it all over again...

Saturday 7 January 2017

The Boy Who Did Not Know Sadness


This is the story of Sumit. A five year old who did not know sadness. He had never eaten, tasted, smelt, heard, seen or felt sadness. He had never even in all his life heard of sadness. Sumit went to school with many other five year olds who also did not know sadness. But one day something happened...

Shyam, Sumit's classmate said. 'I was sad last evening.' He simply announced it to whoever would listen. Sumit a very inquisitive boy who was in the lookout for novelty, asked Shyam, "What is sadness?" to that Shyam answered quite flatly, "you won't understand." and would have walked away from Sumit before it was too late... but it was too late because, Sumit sensing Shyam's intention, grabbed his hand and asked... "But you are Shyam.' and you say 'You were sad' how can you be two people at the same time, you can either be Shyam or you can be Sad! Did you change your name to Sad and then change it back to Shyam?"

"No no" Shyam replied quite relieved. He had decided to take this volley of questions one at a time. For he had no idea what sadness was either… but he would not admit it to Sumit. "You feel sadness," he answered.

"So you can touch it." concluded Sumit triumphantly. "Where is it. Do you have it in your bag? Can I touch it too?"
"No Sumit... you can’t touch it... you feel it in your heart." Shyam said, based on his minimum knowledge that he had gathered from overhearing his Parents conversation last evening.

"So you have put it in your heart. Where is your heart show me… Okay did you cut the body and then place it there and stitch it back like the doctors in TV do? Where is the stitch show me!" Sumit was yelling with excitement now. This was turning out to be a jackpot for him, first to find sadness and then to see stitched heart, all stuffed up with sadness.

"No Sumit, you can't see it, you can’t touch it, but you can feel it." Explained Shyam, getting better and better at this game.

"But shyam, can you atleast hear it? Can you play it for me?" Sumit asked hopefully, losing all hope of a visual display of sadness, he succumbed to accepting, it was something as subtle as music.

"No shyam you don't hear it either... you just feel it," Shyam offered, now getting more and more relieved as he sensed that this investigation was coming to an end.

"No but did you eat it? Can you at-least eat it. How does it taste?" Sumit asked, wondering why he did not think of this earlier.

"No... You feel it, you do not eat it either." Shyam said, realising that there was more coming.

"How do you feel it, what do you feel?" Asked Sumit in one last attempt to get this thing straight.

"I cannot explain, this is something you have to feel to know." Said Shyam, realising for the first time that he knew all that was needed to know about sadness, to be able to act like an authority among his friends, but also made a quick mental note never to repeat his parent's statement at earshot of his friends again. He was wise enough to realise he may not get that lucky every-time. 

Sumit was profoundly confused by now and literally could think of nothing more than this new unknown word, that had hit his silent ebullient life like lightening hits a tree. He went home in thought of it. Sitting impatiently at the corner of the chair, he hardly could nibble few bites of his lunch that mom served with great excitement. "Your favourite Sumit, pasta with white-sauce" only to find Sumit forlorn and preoccupied. Mom never bothered Sumit's thoughtful mood. He even had a 'Sumit's Thotful Spot'. Just like Poo Bear. 

After lunch, Sumit went straight to his room and sat at his Thotful Spot for quite some-time, but to no avail. Soon the phone rang, his friend was calling to play... "I don't want to play Mom," Cried Sumit, Instead of running anxiously to the phone to talk to his friend.



Mom realised something was not alright. She came to his room and saw Sumit in his most pensive, passive, unhappy mood ever. "Why are you so sad Sumit?" she asked.

"Sad?" Sumit cried, "Am I sad Mamma?" and he was now hopping with joy. "I am sad, yes I am sad, I am sad, I am sad." He kept singing.

Mom hated to break the news but it was required, "Not anymore Sumit, not anymore... Now you are jumping with joy, little darling." Mom hugged Sumit and cuddled him some more. Pooh bear would have loved the cuddle too!