Saturday, January 29, 2011


"Children are God's greatest gift to mankind, " I said quoting a Victorian philosopher. My friend Tom begged to differ. "Obviously the dumb philosopher had no children of his own," he sniggered.  "I have four such divine gifts(children) who, when they are on rampage, can be deadlier than any atomic device. If my country were a signatory to the non-proliferation treaty, I would have been forced to surrender my children to International  Atomic Commission after being labelled as fissile material." Tom fell silent for some time as if reflecting upon some momentous fact. Then he somberly added, "I am at loss to know  how to handle them. Before I got married, I had four different theories about how to bring up children. Now I have four children and no theories."

'Yes, no one really knows,' I mused, 'how to bring up children. There is nothing like a perfect formula.' My thoughts went back to the time when my own children were infants. How often did they wake up in the middle of night letting out howls that could put the most vocal of the wolves to shame, disturbing my sleep on regular basis. Someone rightly pointed out that a baby is an alimentary canal with loud noise at one end and irresponsibility at the other. Despite all the trials and tribulations, no parent would really mind. For, nature made the children lovely to look at so that they can be tolerated until they acquire 'some sense.'

The day the child starts walking with short steps, the parents begin their long crawl. What the child psychologists glibly call 'the learning process' is nothing more than breaking of glasses and dis mantling of your gadgets. 'Let's put the buying the washing machine and vacuum cleaner until after the children grow up' is the common refrain heard in households with children. As mischief comes as second nature to children, one needs to watch them with hawk's eyes. For, when children seem to be doing nothing, they are up to some mischief. With the curiosity mingled with sharp investigative sense (that can make James Bond look like an amateur), children can ferret out most craftily hidden objects with ease. You might have stashed away some eatables in a secure corner as a reserve stock, just in case some guests pop in, but your larder is emptied in no time and you meet the visitors with red faces being unable to offer them snacks.

Soon, you realize that all your university degrees are of no use when it comes to attending to simple tasks such as consoling a crying baby or taking your children to the dentist. Your son refuses to be taken to the barber until his hair grows to such an extent that he begins to resemble a chrysanthemum!

(To be continued in the next post 'Imps Go Wild')

1 comment:

Bindu John said...

Being a mother of two naughty little girls (not boys, can you believe?)I could understand everything you said in its true sense. I like to be always doing/creating something, but after the girls came (esp the latest one, just two) I spend all my time managing them.
Nice to read something in good, proper English. Most of the blogs I find these do not follow any of the rules in the name of modernity or poetic licence. Though I don't know how good or perfect I am, I try my best.
Now as I hope you will be reading, I shall be more careful.