Any medicine to stop children from getting older?

This is the question which crosses my mind each time I come across a super-cute child! Well that’s another question that “What if my parents would have also asked the same question when I was small?” FYI – I was never cute! GYMI(sic) (Giving You More Information) – Even if they would’ve found any such medicine, I still might have been blogging; though it would’ve looked somewhat like this:

...the yesterday's blog!

…the yesterday’s blog!

I know that for most of us this irrational question will pass as a joke and no, I, myself is not suggesting that the law of nature is flawed but a sad reality which is compelling me to take this question more than just a joke is that – ‘they’ will be ruined! Those of you who are itching to tag me as cynical, go ahead! In fact, I am also praying along with you to be proved wrong but my biggest fear and a simple reality is – they will become adults – like us! Isn’t it not enough?

Please find that medicine!

Their smile will give way to cheeky grin,
Some will have untidy stubble on their chin!
Please find that medicine!

Their innocence will be packed in boxes of tin,
Mistakes will start converting into sin!
Please find that medicine!

Heart-breaks will be more painful than bruises on skin,
Colas and Fantas will fizzle away into vodka and gin!
Please find that medicine!

Consciousness will ask “Whether you’re fat or thin?”
Life will transform from a morning walk to a race and “They’ve to win!”
Please find that medicine!

PS – Haven’t we heard it said : “Prevention is better than cure!” So lets prevent them from growing old rather than looking for a cure later for that ironical disease called adulthood!


An open letter to all the mothers!

Dear Mothers,

Hi! Here I’m addressing all the mothers and not the fathers because as Beverly Jones once said – “Now, as always, the most automated appliance in a household is the mother.” Once I was having a conversation with a mother of one of my students (he was 4 years old) about how early a mother should start worrying about the career of her child. I said “Rome was not built in a day” and she quipped that “Since Rome was not built in a day so we’ve to start early.” I said, I agree, but here it’s ‘You’ who has decided that your child will grow up to build a Rome, it means you’re trying to typecast him to become an Engineer or whatever (Here, Engineer is merely symbolic). Now, isn’t it unfair to rob off the choice from the child? We all are gifted in a way or the other so isn’t it distrusting the God’s gift in the child? Isn’t it doubting the child’s creativity? Isn’t it an encroachment to the child’s decision? It is!

I tried to explain this further with an example. I told her: “Take some water and put it into a glass. You already know the shape of the water in the glass; in fact, in a way it was predetermined by you. Now, take that same amount of water and spread it on the floor. Now, observe the ever changing contours of the water; free to move anywhere, ready to take any shape. In this case as you’ll observe that since the shape was not predetermined by you, it’s more complex and sophisticated than the shape of the water in the glass.” In a nut-shell “Let your child paint a Monalisa (become an Engineer) only if he wants to otherwise let him paint his own Masterpiece!

We know youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall but a mother’s secret hope outlives them all! Every mother hopes for something surprisingly great for their child. I can understand that it’s not easy being a mother as Faye Hallman once said “At times a child is a combination of a thousand questions, all asked at the same time, a miniature rocket blasting off exactly when you want quite. Ten little fingers, getting into trouble when at rest or else acting like ten thumbs when trying to do something extra special. A head full of ideas – not always appropriate at the time but bursting from every seam, a mouth that can’t stay closed for even a slightest moment. Giving information that won’t be needed for at least another twenty minutes. A pair of beady eyes that question your authority, your age, but with an innocent, calf like depth that breaks your heart when you want to scold. A set of ears that never seem to be aimed in the right direction at the right time. They are never on your wavelength when you call his name or mention work. But as soon as you say ‘Play’, ‘Lunch’ or ‘recess’, he is the first to communicate to his sister what he has just received. A nose that always seems to be sniffing or needing to be wiped. A body that never sits still but is in perpetual motion and ever seems to run down even when you haven’t another puff of energy left but is always completely tired when you are in an enthusiastic mood. He has a voice that startles you, questions you, idolizes you and can melt the strongest, coldest heart to be focused. His desk resembles the ingredients of an atomic bomb – a few erasers, two chewed on pencils, a scratch pad with doodles, chalk, paper clips, rubber bands, a comb, his snacks and of course a few dog eared books. He has the energy of a wild horse; sometimes he looks like he had just raced one. A temper as changeable as the weather, the patience of a caged lion, the smile of a new-born baby, the laugh of a hyena but the pure heart of an angel. He gives you trouble, a bad temper, a sore throat and a wish to resign but yet he makes your life the most enjoyable one on this earth.”

I am asking particularly to Indian mothers that – “Do you know why there is a dearth of Led Zeppelins and Roger Federers in India?” It’s not that we lack talents but we’re too afraid to take the risk as we don’t believe in God’s gift. We are too busy adding successful engineers and doctors into our family but not ready to make way for a successful human being. I believe sometimes, it’s today’s parents that need counseling and not always the poor child.

Best of luck to all the mother because “a mother will always be her child’s favorite toy!”

Take-care!                                                                                           Spokesman of Children

PS — “There is only one pretty child in the world and every mother has it!” – Chinese Proverb

A fall on my blog!

The baby Mynah

The baby Mynah

As I was clearing some mess around my blog a soft but urgent chirping distracted me – for the third time that day!! I went outside and saw a baby Mynah on the floor right under the air-conditioner of my neighbor. I picked it up and relocated it to its nest atop the AC. As I was getting down from the stool after that relocation, I saw the baby again at the edge of its nest; a clear indication of a third fall in the making! I brought down the baby and took it inside with me. I decided to keep it with me, not as a pet but just as a ‘new mom’ to nurse it till its fledgling days!

The Nest

The Nest

The separation from its family was obviously sad but it was for the safety of the new born. Lying helpless on the floor after its fall, the baby was an easy prey for a crow, lurking in disguise. At night, the papa and mama Mynah were making some hopeless feeble noises. I was somewhat happy for not understanding their language ‘coz it would’ve made me more sad to understand a parents’ pain after loosing their baby! This was a true epitomization of Lonely together! 

An anxious mother!

An anxious mother!

They (the adult Mynahs) were lonely in their nest and their baby was lonely in its cardboard box! It was a difficult situation for me coz quite ironically, I was trying to save the baby and at the same time I was the same guy who was involved in this separation between a mother and its baby…ah, how difficult situation that was!

I Googled whatever help was available on ‘a rescued mynah’. I found some very important links and tips as to “never try to gulp down water down the throat of a mynah as they require a very little water to survive and extra water can prove to be fatal!”

A makeshift shelter

A makeshift shelter

On the third day, my sister woke me up to a terrible news – the baby mynah was dead! I was heartbroken and started feeling terribly low! The feeling was same as I felt after watching that heart wrenching movie – Grave of the Fireflies!

I was broken and confused and guilty! I knew no one will care about the death of this poor baby, no relatives or friends will shed any tears, no media will cover it, no police will investigate this case, no obituary in any newspaper…the irony of dying an insignificant death! But my heart didn’t stop to sunk further and there was a guilt in my heart…guilt – the heaviest entity on this earth! I didn’t know, whether I could’ve saved that little life or not but I was cursing that moment when the fall’ took place as this tiny incident had broken me to the core!