People start their
life with one predominant feeling – their heart. This heart is pure and
innocent and does not recognize grays, only black and white. Things are right
or wrong, true or false, good or bad. There is no in-between.
However, this lasts
only as long as the mind gets a dominant position in the eternal struggle
between the head and the heart. Moreover, Time is usually biased towards the
heart. There are exceptions, of course, but most people think they are “simple”
individuals and this impression has always a hint of mockery guiding it.
I recount some
incidents from my life that only reinforces this belief. Children are naturally
gifted with the innocence of heart and only the passage of time makes them cannier
when shades of grey start creeping in. For parents this is a little difficult
to accept for they continue to make futile attempts to hold on to the picture
of their children, as they were when it was easy to lift them up in arms.
Often as children
grow up their views of life change, their thoughts become subject to many
tests, the parent’s insistence on clinging on to the past becomes irritating
and may even result in conflicts. Nevertheless, let me return to my musings of
days gone by.
My son was a quiet child
- sharp of intellect but a pacifist by nature. Interested in unusual things
like the epics (from stories narrated by his grandfather), in stars, in
dinosaurs and the list was endless. Once he knew quite a bit about it, however,
his interest waned and he moved on to something new, more exotic. Not a child
of many words, he had a penchant for having friends and he was a devoted one
himself. I do not recall even a single incident when he got into a fight, which
is unusual for a small child, or throw tantrums when some of his demands were
not met.
A stark contrast to
his sister; elder to him by six years! She was a feisty girl, had very well
defined ideas, quick of temper and mentally strong enough to stand her ground
even when confronted by her father! Even as a baby, she would put up a strong
fight if she were not in the mood for her milk. Nevertheless, with such
dramatically different personalities, they were the best of friends, probably
because my son Rohit with his quiet non-confrontational ways was the perfect
foil to the bossiness and temper of my daughter.
However, Rohit had
very clear ideas of right and wrong. He was in nursery school. I was free one
afternoon so I went to collect him after school around noon. I reached school
well in time and was standing a little way away from the aggressive mothers who
were there and were busy either complaining about their in-laws, exchanging
recipes, or worrying about their children’s future ( God knows why at that
age!) and generally chattering on incessantly about a variety of issues.
Fathers, like me, were rare.
When the school bell
rang, the crowds surged forward, even though the children would start to come
out in a particular order as per their classes and their sections. However,
that did not matter to the mothers and even repeated requests by the harried
teachers, to clear the way and allow children to leave in an orderly fashion,
fell on deaf ears.
I hung around at the
back knowing that it would be a good ten minutes or so before Rohit would
emerge. Finally, when I saw the first of Rohit’s classmates emerge I too went
forward. One by one, the kids emerged but no Rohit! I was a little worried but
one of his teachers noticed me, smiled, and informed me that he would be along
shortly. He had received punishment for something he had done. Therefore, I
waited at the back. The crowd was thinning and by the time Rohit emerged, there
were only a few parents left.
Rohit was looking
more outraged than crestfallen. I did not mention anything about the delay and
waited for him to broach the subject. After walking quietly for about five
minutes, he finally told me about his punishment.
He was an honest
child and I knew I would be informed in due course of time. I did not say
anything and barely suppressed a smile. After all, how big a misdemeanor can a
child of three or four commit??
However, Rohit was
still looking troubled. Finally, I asked him the reason for his punishment. His
face grew dark as he narrated the incident. He was seething inside but true to form,
he was neither crying nor shouting.
Apparently, after
their Tiffin break, the teachers told all children to put their heads down for
a short nap. This was usual for most nursery schools. Rohit and the other
children immediately put their heads down and closed their eyes. Most children
did not really sleep but went through the motions, often peeping from the
corners of their eyes to take in the activity that was still taking place
around them. Rohit noticed that the child next to him had not put his head down
and was continuing to look around. He was stunned at this overt disregard to
the teacher’s command and proceeded to catch the offender by the neck and put
his head down! The victim naturally resisted and the teacher noticing the
disturbance came to enquire.
It
was clear immediately that Rohit was the perpetrator and was duly punished by
being asked to stay back after class.
Rohit was appalled at
this “injustice”. After all he was only trying to enforce the rules laid out by
the teacher and the misdemeanor was the act of “defying” the teachers command
by his friend! Wasn’t this unfair? The offender went scot-free while he, the
enforcer, was punished. Life was unfair!
While I tried my best
to explain to him that it was not his job to enforce rules but the question got
me thinking. Is this not what we are asked to do every day? To ensure that
rules are obeyed. How do I explain to a three year old the nuances of rights, duties,
and responsibilities? Are we all not guilty of turning away in the face of
obvious wrongdoing?
All this may be a
matter of debate and the incident was insignificant, but to a three year old,
such breaking of rules was a terrible crime and enforcement resulting in
punishment was even more so!
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