I WAS RIGHT

I said the sun is rising from behind my friend's house,
Amma said it is not actually there but really far away.

"I will wear my new pink frock to go play,"I stomped,
Amma didn't say a word while stitching up the big tear in the frock.

"I would love to be a doctor, a model, an astronaut..."
Amma said, "Follow your heart and follow it up with your head."

"I swear he's just a friend, Amma."
"Trust me, he wants more than that," she said.

"I hate him, I could kill him," I ranted.
"Let it go my darling," she reasoned.

I shed tears when I left home, heaved down with garlands
Amma blessed me, "Hold your head up high and be happy."

"I have to go to her," I cried when I got the call,
"I had to see you before I go," said Amma to me weakly.

I said "I love you more than anything Amma,"
Amma closed her eyes, smiled and said, "I love you more than that."

I knew that was true. I was finally right.

Anuradha venkatnarayan
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KIDS… or Knowledgeable Individuals with Drastic Superiority

 

It’s hard work to be a kid today.

By the time you celebrate your 6th birthday, you are expected to know at least one martial art, one performing art and you should have taken part in a minimum of one of those brain mapping tests that will pronounce you to be a future mathematician or budding scientist. This is apart from the weekly assessments of academic performance, wherein you are allowed to secure only grades above ‘B’.

“What do you mean by saying you don’t know the names of all the moons of Jupiter?!”

“How did you get this multiplication exercise wrong? It’s only a 4 digit number multiplied by a 3 digit number!”

“I had to look up the difference between a ‘homonym’ and a ‘homophone’ on Google. Don't you remember we played that ‘Spot the homonyms’ game on the Internet?!”

We parents have a supremely demanding obligation to fulfil. Mind you, we are bringing up Knowledgeable Individuals with Drastic Superiority, not kids!

Our parenting skills are judged on how well our children have done in the prelims to the International spelling bee contest. We are good parents only if we provide them the opportunity to take part in the robotics camp. And our annual judgement day is when the kids go on stage for their annual day to showcase their acting, dancing and singing skills. Slip up and you will have to hear snide remarks like, “Oh, your child does not know how to play chess?! Isn’t he 6 years old?”

I am a misfit. And I feel strangely unburdened that my kids are not professionally trained in anything. And no, I am not looking for a teacher to tutor them to play in the sand after they finish their clay modelling classes!

I want my kids to look at beggars and ask me why they don’t have enough clothes. I don’t want them to talk profusely about the economic disparity in India.

I wish my kids would scrape their elbows while climbing trees and come running to me for a bandage. I don’t want them to give me a list of the disadvantages of climbing trees.

I would love it if my kids simply call their grandparents and tell them about what happened in school. I don’t want them to know things like range on a cell phone or posting on the Facebook wall already.

I would love to bring up kids. I don't want to bring up stunted adults.