Old-style morality or new-age parenting?

Of late, my daughter has been picking up quite a few English songs... so, what's wrong with that? Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm paranoid. Maybe I don't want her to grow up fast. Maybe I want her to be just my little girl, forever! Maybe I don't want to go through the trauma of explaining the meaning of a few lyrics to her...

The reasons are plenty, and my logic very idiotic! But, perhaps, if you know why I am acting so funny you may even sympathize with me! For one, it's not those cutesy songs for little girls like Cuppycake or Crazy Frog, or Sound of Music melodies that little S sings. She goes on crooning I'm a Barbie girl with all its wacky-weird lyrics :(... my heart does many extra, fast beats whenever she goes "You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere... imagination, life is your creation"!

Oh God, what am I to tell her? How can I divert her attention to something else? I tried making her listen to Boney M numbers like Mary's boy child, and Abba songs too, but in vain. Of all the songs by Abba, she picks up (besides Money money money and Dancing queen) Mama Mia, S.O.S, and Honey honey. And the least I speak of Boney M, the better... apart from Rasputin and Ma Baker, she doesn't have patience for any other song.

Now, what do you tell a smart seven-year-old who sings Beat it or Thriller, and finds Boney M and Abba "too slow"? Cheaters, love machines, and killers are what/who she likes?! Grrrrrrrrrrr!!! God save me, and paranoid parents like me... Just the other day I was horrified to discover that she is humming Shakira's Whenever wherever, and immediately deleted it from my playlist. Thankfully, she didn't catch the lyrics too well to sing along!!

But why am I acting like the moral police? I've no clue. Errrrrrrr, I guess it runs in my family. I remember my mom whacking me on a few occasions when I crooned Bhale bhale mogadivoy (Maro Charitra), Sirimalle puvva (Padaharella Vayasu) and Aresukoboyi (Adavi Ramudu) - I was just four then (three years younger than S currently is and with a quarter of her mental capabilities) and I had no clue what the lyrics meant... though I must admit that when I was listening to these songs a couple of days ago and mom walked in for lunch, I turned a deep red and quickly closed the window as I felt rather shy to admit (even now) that I listen to these songs.

At 35, I'm still worried what my mom would think of me if I listen to "dirty" songs. I wonder what would be her reaction if I post these songs on FB or use them as my status msgs in GTalk... Will she whack me even now?

As for me, I'm caught between old-fashioned morality and new-age parenting! I certainly don't want to whack little S for singing risque songs. But I also want her to stop singing Barbie girl right now... Is this some new definition of a cool parent where I want 'to be' and 'not to be' as well? I've no solution yet but I'm sure I'll come up with an innovative answer to this dichotomy, and my own social-cum-moral dilemma!!

MA, MB, MC, MD, MS & many more Ms

Another day. Another conversation. But this time it wasn't me who was subjected to the torrent of my daughter's outbursts. It was her grandmother who had to patiently face little S's relentless rapidfire question session. And this is how the conversation went on a lazy Sunday afternoon!

S: Ammamma, did you study MB?

A: Huh? What's that?

S: Abbaaaaa... you didn't understand? Did you do MB? Just like my amma and nanna studied MA, did you study MB?

A: Yes, I studied MB, MC, MD, and many more Ms.

S: (extremely happy to have found somebody who is much more educated than her parents) Ah, okay. What else did you study?

A: I studied MA, MBA, MCA, MBBS, BTech, BE, MS, PhD... I've done all of it.

S: Then why were you not working like amma?

A: Your mother is also not working now.

S: Yes, but she used to work before no... why didn't you also work like her?

A: I couldn't work because I don't know how to use computers. That's the only thing I didn't study. And nobody gave me a job without learning computers.

S: Then you could have learned computers and worked no.

A: They all said I should know computers if I've to work and I couldn't learn.

S: But why? You should have learned just like amma, nanna and mama.

A: But there were no computers at that time. So nobody could teach me also.

S: Okay...

Pauses thoughtfully for a brief while before some brilliant thought crosses her mind and is reflected in her big, bright eyes.

S: Wait, if there were no computers when you were small how can the job people ask you to learn computers?

A: I don't know but they all asked.

S: But how can they tell you that when there are no computers only!! That's wrong no!

A: (smiles speechlessly) ...

And now, isn't it unfair that the "job people" (employers) tormented little S's grandmother and refused to give her a job just because she doesn't know how to operate a computer? Poor grandmother, and poor little granddaughter!

Conversation on a cool morn...

"Your daughter is smart..." That's what everyone tells me. I must say that I do agree to quite an extent. Read on to find out why I had to change my opinion about my stupid little one and suddenly start treating her with more respect.

The conversation began at 6 a.m. when she got up on her own, without me yelling out threats - for a change!

S: Bhow...

Me: Arrey wah! How come you got up on your own?

S: Because I got up (oh wow, I didn't know that!).

Me: Okay, good to know my little girl is growing up and doing things on her own...

S: Geee... what's for breakfast?

Me: I didn't make anything today. I'm packing biscuits, rusks, some murukulu. Will that do? Sorry beta, I couldn't decide what to make because just yesterday you had noodles. And I had no energy to make upma or roti. :(

S: It's okay amma... Whatever you packed is enough.

Five minutes later:

S: Amma, actually don't send me to school today no please!

Me: Why?

S: Because I've cold and I am coughing also. And it's raining no.

Me: It's okay. Your cold and cough are not severe. You don't have fever anyway! You'll be fine by afternoon. And you don't have school tomorrow and the day after... :) Now get going if you don't want to miss the bus.

Little S reluctantly brushes teeth, has a bath, wears uniform and shoes, drinks Boost, gets her pigtails tied, and is all set to go. So we pick up her bag and water bottle and off we go downstairs. Then, We wait in the rain for her bus! (sung in the same tune as I walk in the rain by your side!)

And our conversation continues...

S: Maybe we don't have school today.

Me: Why shouldn't you have school?

S: Because it's raining.

Me: So? If they start giving you a holiday each time it rains, you won't have school at all the whole of the rainy season...

S: Good only no, amma.

Me: But you just had a lot of holidays in summer!

S: Yes, but I want holidays in rainy season also.

Me: If they close the school during summer because it's hot, in rainy season because it's pouring heavily, and in winter because it's very cold, no school in Orissa will run. How will you complete your syllabus then?

S: It's okay amma. They should open the school in summer and winter but close it in rainy season. Even if it's hot, we can switch on the fan in the classroom and it'll be airy. In winter, we can switch off the fans. But I think they should give holidays in rainy season so we don't have to wear raincoat and we won't get wet.

Me: Hmmmm !! (Now, can I beat the logic?)

S's attention is suddenly caught by a crow on a ledge in the second floor of our apartment complex. She's, as always, lost in thought for a while before framing her question, logic or whatever thoughts are passing through her wonderful mind, and then she was out with her observations...

S: Amma, look at that crow. It is also trying to escape from the rain. But why is it sitting alone?

Me: Huh?

S: It could have brought its babies also no? Sad no... the baby crows will get wet in the rain and the mother is sitting away from rain.

Me: How do you know it's the mother of those baby crows? Also, how will it bring all the babies here? They are still small and aren't flying on their own.

S: But it can bring them one by one, no... (okay baby, got it!)

Me: I don't know...

S: Or maybe it covered the nest with something so that the babies don't get wet (Wow, why didn't I think of that?).

Me: Maybe!

S: (spots her bus at a distance) Amma, will you see when you go back and tell me when I'm back?

Me: What?

S: Whether the nest is covered or no.

Me: Okay, bye beta!

And it was this girl that I was so worried about a while ago, and thought of protecting her innocence. Children these days, I say!

When innocence is killed...

It is not like I waited for the incidents of the previous post to act as an eye-opener regarding human behavior. But they did set the ball rolling for my current thought process. Whenever I remember how the crows of the entire village swarmed the apartment complex and kept circling it, kaa-ing in the process, in order to protect the tiny baby crows, I keep wondering if human beings would do the same for their fellow beings...

And I must admit with regret that it's not the case always. I've seen that kind of unified support in some cases, especially in the case of accidents when a lot of bystanders rush to the spot to help the victim(s). I also remember a few incidents of theft, and threats, in the colony where I used to stay as a child and how the neighbors mostly kept to themselves for fear of being the next target.

Isn't it the case with terror attacks too? None of us may be able to forget the Mumbai terror attack but how much time does it take for fellow humans to erase the memory of the victims' faces and ignore the loss of life at various places on 26/11? And how difficult is it to engage in an organized counter-attack? Expecting too much, are we?

It doesn't take much time, energy or guts to run to the spot where an accident victim fell injured, and rush the unconscious person to the hospital but it certainly requires a great deal of courage and motivation to stand up to a quarrelsome neighbour, or a thief/ bandit with a weapon. And each time I hear of any such incident I wonder how many people and courageous souls does it take to topple a handful of thieves (in spite of their knives and guns) - 200, 300, 1,000 or more? Maybe I'm really expecting too much from cowards in the country!

One other thought that keeps crossing my mind is had one of the baby crows been killed by the monstrous monkey, would the other two crows remember the violence of their sibling's death? Or are their memories too short-lived and insignificant when compared to other greater mortals? If their memory is good enough to remember the incident for a long while, what about the violence involved in disputes, murders, brutal killings, mass hysteria and terror strikes?

What kind of lessons in humanity are we teaching our children? What kind of violent images are today's children exposed to? And considering their memories are more significant than those of the crows, I'm scared thinking about the impact all these visuals have on a child's mind and the future possibilities...

I still wonder, confused, about protecting S from all these, and more, and let her remain innocent for a little while longer... Protected from ghastly images. Protected from unwanted violence. Protected from pesky people. Protected from unnecessary tensions. Protected from every bad thing I can think of. Is it really possible? Sigh, sigh and more sigh!!

Rumour without humour!

I must say that rumour mills keep working 24X7. Having been exposed to two scary incidents with a dash of rumour (minus the humour) in a single day, I can vouch for the above fact.

I woke up this morning, as has been happening for a few mornings now, to the crowing of baby crows which were nestled closely together in the nest on a badam tree, next to our balcony/window. I even told my daughter that the baby crows got up so it's time for her to get up and get ready for school. As was the routine, she smiled with her sleepy eyes and greeted them with a hello too! And then the rush of the morning began!

Once S got ready, we stepped out of the apartment, locked the door and were about to go down when we saw a swarm of crows circling the apartment complex and kaa-kaaing at the top of their voice. Upon going downstairs I spotted the watchman's son and asked him what's the reason for the commotion. He told me that there's a monkey on the very badam tree and it killed one of the baby crows so all the crows are screaming and trying to scare the monkey away so that the other two babies can be saved. My heart did a wrenching back flip and skipped many beats.

In my mind's eye, the visual of the three baby crows sleeping peacefully was juxtaposed with the disturbing image of a huge monkey sitting next to the nest with a greedy look on its face. I was very disturbed and kept thinking about it through those torturous 10 mins while S and I waited for her bus.

Waving her an absent-minded bye, I rushed to my flat to check from my bedroom window if all the baby crows were okay. I could spot two babies perched on two branches, a little away from the nest, facing opposite directions as if on alert, watchful guard... while the third one was still lying in the nest, and looked as if it's breathing heavily. I was so worried that I almost closed the windows so I won't know even if it is dead but somehow couldn't bring myself to do that either.

And I kept pacing up and down for the next two hours till I received a frantic call from a well-wishing neighbor. The call was about a gas leakage in S's school and all kids are being sent back home... buses have already started moving out and she'll reach in the next 20-25 mins, no details of the gas are known yet and I am supposed to wait for her downstairs. "If she complains of discomfort or looks unwell, we'll need to take her to the doctor," said the good Samaritan neighbor whose daughters are studying in the same school, and whose sister works in the administrative section.

Many tense moments followed as I panicked and ran down, and kept pacing on the road till I saw the long turmeric yellow bus at the bend.

As soon as S got off the bus, I knew everything is all right and there's no need to worry. I still asked her if she has trouble breathing, or any burning sensation, or if she's feeling giddy, and got a 'No' for an answer. Apparently the teachers switched off the fans in the classrooms and asked all the children to cover their nose. Then students were quickly evacuated from the building and were promptly sent home.

S also told me in an excited voice that one of the classrooms caught fire and students there were the first to be sent out. I wondered about the safety of other students and my smart daughter assured me that all was well with everyone. Only when my journo-husband called up his reporter-colleague in Berhampur to find out about the gas leakage did we get to know a few details.

Looks like somebody tried to steal the knobs (made of brass) of chlorine cylinder(s) at an industry some two kilometers away and so the gas started leaking out. We don't know, yet, if the thieves were successful in their mission but because the workers and the residents around could smell the gas, prompt action was taken.

Thanks to mass over-reaction (was it the effect of the Bhopal gas tragedy?), everyone seems safe - for the moment. And I hope things continue to stay that way!

Epilogue

BTW, let me tell you that the third crow baby is fine too. It, along with its siblings, has its pink beak open wide awaiting the mother to feed some food. Also, I'm not sure about the fire in a classroom at my daughter's school. That makes me wonder about the over-time rumour mills as I am constantly reminded about what the watchman's son told me this morning about the monkey killing the baby crow, and what my daughter told me about the classroom catching fire!!