Last evening, my six-year-old son expressed a wish to go to Japan. Why, I asked. “I want to meet Tyson,” he replied, Tyson being the main protagonist in a popular television cartoon series. I smiled and told him that Tyson is only a fictional character — he doesn’t exist in real life. “Then where does he stay?” my son asked. Only on the television screens, I replied and patiently added that cartoon characters don’t have a country or a place to their names. Do we really know where Tom and Jerry live? Or, Richie Rich? Even when they do have addresses, these are not real.
As I explained the fiction-reality divide to the six-year-old, I began to feel increasingly guilty. Was I robbing a child of his imagination? After all, it was only a few years before he would know, for sure, that Santa Claus doesn’t exist and that Beyblades (that marketing sensation to emerge from Japan) don’t really morph into dragons and fiery-eyed snow eagles at the turn of the top. Why would I shatter his superhero dreams just because I know they aren’t real? Didn’t I look for fairies and gnomes at his age?
Guilt-wracked, I paused in my discourse. My son, who had been listening patiently, if a tad anxiously, all this while, was staring at the floor. I winced inside; maybe the damage was already done. His childhood was gone forever. Then, he looked up at me. “Ma, where can I find a genie? I’ll ask him to take me to meet Tyson inside the television.”
Solemnly, I informed him that genies are usually found lurking around lamps, candles, or potted plants, only one has to look real hard.
As I left my son looking for genies beside the candle-stand, I promised to leave childhood alone. Always.
Of parenthood, angst, and travels
17 comments:
Nice tip there! Do write about what happens when he can't find the genie near the candle (oh, btw, what's a candle? Is it like a sandesh?)
You're in for some tougher interrogation, I imagine.
Great post!
When I was about to become a mother, I knew, as a person who believes herself to be well-informed and 'with the times', that at each step of this journey called motherhood, I would feel inadequate. However, little did I know that this feeling would arise out of my daughter's scornful rejection of my basic knowledge of geography.
Last year, my daughter (then 5 year old) asked me how the sun sets. I went into an elaborate explanation of the planetary movements, rotation of the earth etc. After giving me a very patient hearing (1 min of uninterrupted hearing is very patient for a 5-year old) she told me "Mamma, you don't know anything. The sun sets because it goes behind the mountains."
Suitably mortified, I left it at that. After all, it's a far more picturesque and tangible phenomenon than the excruciatingly slow rotation of the earth that we can't even feel.
As for leaving childhood alone, Mitul, don't worry. Children (and childhood) are far more resilient than we realise. No amount of rationalism and intellect can kill the ever-unfolding wonders of childhood.
You are right on dot! Superheroes, fairies and gnomes are parts of childhood that you simply cannot do without.
What is a childhood minus daydreams about your favourite superheroes?
As a child, I believed in Santa Claus. In fact, my mom often used the "Santa" angle to make me glance at my text-books (If you don't score an A in Maths in your annual exam, Santa will not visit you this year). But my dad took his role as a Santa quite seriously. He stopped the Santa-act only after I requested him to do so (I was then in the second year of my graduation).
Of course, we grow up into matured and practical adults and all that. But, till the time we are forced to realise that Tyson lives only in Utopia, there's no harm in trying to find out his address...
Anushila, the parent's perennial dilemma is when to bring on the scientfic tomes or when to leave well enough alone. Like Poushali, most of our contemporaries would try and explain the wonders of science rather than let our children think that the world is a flat disc resting on a giant tortoise. But is a child ready to accept such explanations? If so, when? Points to ponder!
I just pray he finds his genie some day!
As for me, I tried to baby-sit my 6 yr old neice once. When songs, toys, chocolates and games failed...I tried the good old 'grandma act'. I told her 'If you are good today, a magic carpet will come to take you on a ride through the clouds.' To this she frowned and said, 'I thought you were old enough to have heard of gravity.'
That day even I decided to leave childhood alone.
But let's not completely give up...there's still innocence left! Thank God.
That day I was watching a program on TV. The host went around interviewing children. He asked 'Beta, tum bada ho ke kya banoge?' Some said 'Sachin', some said 'Batman'...and some said 'Doctor'. One little girl said spontaneously 'Mujhe bada ho ke MARD banna hai.'
I wondered what my neice would say to that!
I don't know why I signed in as 'anonymous' in my previous comment!
There's a child in all of us and that's why sometimes even we want to believe in fairies and genies and pokemons! why blame the kids!I would like to re-live those childhood fantasies anyday.
oh yes, shyamali! No wonder Harry Potter's such a hit with adults as well. I often glance around to see if there's a camouflaged wizard in the vicinity and maybe that innocent-looking lamp-post is actually a gateway to a quidditch ground!!! Who knows?
On a serious note, I think people still research on UFOs and supernatural stuff because somewhere deep down they still believe. 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio...'
Say what?
I agree with Shyamali. There is indeed a child in all of us. It comes out every now and then in the little things that we do and say.
I used to love fairy tales as a child. I was a voracious reader and my father used buy me books that captured my imagination.
It is probably safe to assume that we've all had our share of Hans Anderson Omnibus, Odbhut Joto Bhooter Golpo and Banglar Dakat. Satyajit Ray came in a little later - although Feluda and the wise professor were equally cherished.
However, my most cherished childhood memories are the stories that my father used to tell me about his childhood. He is an amazing narrator who could make me live his adventures through his words. Those stories continue to be some my most precious memories... they always will be.
like keats frowned on newton becase 'he destroyed the poetry of the rainbow by reducing it to a prism'...
mitul, that was me — angona! :0)
Lovely post, Mitul!
Reminded me of Gautu, my six-year-old neighbour who believes he's as old as my brother and I. Once while grabbing some cake that my mother had kept away for us, Gautu said that he could have it since he was a child. My mother indignantly pointed out that we were her 'children'.
Well, there's no second-guessing six-year-olds I guess.
Gautu pertly pointed out that though I could be called a child (I'm 36 and five feet tall.), no way could my brother be called one (my brother's 27 and almost six feet tall.)!!
Quite agree with all those who believe that there's a child in us. Even now, I love curling up with a Famous Five (in fact, I just bought the whole collection).
I think when we make up things for our children, we are at the same time indulging the flights of fancy that are considered taboo for adults (I don't know why though). I had a great time making up this story for my daughter when she was two years old. At that time, she was going through the Ma Durga phase and every bedtime story had to feature the goddess. After exhausting my knowledge of mythology, I one day let my imagination go. Here's a snippet.
(Apologies to non-Bongs and acknowledgements to Sukumar Ray)
Durga said to Mahishashur: "Ken re beta ishtupid, thengiye tore korbo dhit."
Mahishashur: "Bhoy peona, bhoy peona, tomai ami marbo na/Shotti bolchi tomar shonge kusti kore parbona."
After this, there are some physical exchanges and Mahishashur is defeated. And then,
Durga said: "Tomar shashti - tomake shara jibon Pujor pandeley baje Hindi gaan shunte hobe"
My daughter loved it. So did I.
Aah, Sukumar Ray... All those who have not read him have missed such a lot. Now, when I read Ha Ja Ba Ra La to my son, I discover all the brilliant nuances all over again. Or maybe, for the first time, for at each reading, that book presents some idea that I missed previously. Haven't all of us come across a Kakkeshwar Kuchkuchey in real life who says, "Tomader deshey shomoyer daam neyi?" And what about that immortal line, "Hatey royilo pencil!" Yes, child in us or not, I just love Sukumar Ray.
They say 'child is the father of man'...indeed we have a lot to learn from our children. They help us return to innocence,while we strive to grow into so-called 'mature adults'!
Come on, isn't this taking things too far? We all have fantasies (or phantasies, if u like)and childhood fantasies are different in the sense that they are about things "we" consider "childish." I guess somebody in this string mentioned the adults who think UFOs exist. What about adults who fantasise about their next jobs (with a better salary and infinitely better workplace) or their dream homes?
It's just a pity that for adults the options are rather limited because we are used to think about "real" things. It, however, suitably escapes our minds that the dream job or home or whatsoever may never come true. And truly speaking, that doesn't bother us, really!
This is I guess what children would think when they analyze us, if at all. To them the EMIs for a car loan sound as exotic, and inescapably out of reach, as we feel about gnomes and Santa. Dunno, perhaps they come smarter nowadays, but I remember being mystified by the "adult talk" as a kid. I thought they had so much fun with all those playthings one can't see or feel. Politics? Wow, what was that? Tension? Now, this guy must be really groovy to have "tension" at all! Tension used to be such a magic word for me!
What we can learn, I guess, from children (i.e. past "ourselves") is the seriousness with which they treat their fantansies. Naah, I guess we don't need to learn that! Perhaps, we should learn the aplomb with which they junk one fantasy and take up another. Perhaps, in our infancy, we were wiser. We knew that those were beautiful ideas that seemed quite real. And when one reality we dinn't like, we promptly took up another. When genie's gone, we could easily have an invisible friend to talk to, or play with, and without missing a beat could chide the next child who said genies existed. Now that was cool!
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