From A conversation between me and one of my friend in Chennai.
The whole thing is based on her point of view.
I believe in the 90/10 rule. That is, 90% of the time, we use 10% of our brains. 90% of the population own 10 % of the resources. You get the story line.
Ok, why is it that a whole battalion of young Indian mothers are in a rush these days? Rude, unsatisfied and slave masters? Of course there is the 10% that sit and talk to their kids, and really parent their offsprings. But I seem to be coming across the 90% more often.
Summer-time and I’ve enrolled the kids in some cool and easy workshops.
Since I have kids ranging from 20 to 7, I meet mothers spanning 2 or 3 generations. However, we Indian mothers come across the board as consistently rough with our kids.
Yesterday, I’m at this Tennis place with my youngest in practice. So, we mothers hang outside the court under the trees. Here, we are all chatting away, and a young person (YES, THE KID IS A HUMAN BEING!!!) aged 5 or 6, is playing in the sand right behind us.
Scene I
Stopitmama yelps, “Neha, stop it”. Neha rolls her eyes. Neha blissfully continues doing what she apparently seems to do best: Ignoring Mama. Mother goes on to berate the kid. Not that Neha cared a breath.
As I turn around, I notice that the child has scooped some dirt into tiny mounds and stuck an assortment of twigs, fresh and dry leaves and whatever else she could find to adorn her creation. I may be more imaginative than others (with 4 kids, that’s the only way to survive), but to any layperson, it was definitely something worth admiring. A budding architect is what I announced. I’m sure the others areed. Along Frank Llyod, so usonian and Zaha Hadid, so contemporary.
Just using the materials that were readily available. She didn’t have to bribe anyone. No hypocricy. No imported items. No sweat. No cheating, lying, nothing. Just plain fun.
“Stop it, Neha, your clothes are getting dirty”. It wasn’t like the kid was wearing Channel or Givenchy or even that the outfit was white or starched. The kid was in some tatty jeans. Perfect play clothes.
So, what is Stopitmama teaching Neha here. Obviously, the kid could care a hoot. Well, it certainly seemed a resignation of the parental authority. And it was apparent that The Mother has anger-management issues. Losing tempers over non-issues - not too cool on a hot hot hot Chennai day. (A non-Chennaite Mother, for you cross-referencers).
Way-to-go-mama is in the court with her kid. Given half a chance, she would yank her kid’s racquet to do the needful. “Way to go, Shweta!”. Shweta rolls her eyes. She has not even hit one ball yet.
Kids instinctively know where they stand. They know when we are overdoing it, or underdoing it for that matter. Kids know.
Scene III
Perfect-Mom nags and wags her tongue at every given oppurtunity to create a neurotic adult. It’s her mission in life to spawn psychosis. The kid hits 10 out of 10 balls. Perfect-Mom is upset. “Come on, Sunder, you could do better.” Sunder rolls his eyes.
I try not to be Perfect Mama. I don’t expect perfection and have strictly told my children not to expect me to be perfect. My excuse: Only God is Perfect.
Mine announces, “It was a 6 today”. That’s the end of it. Well, she loves marking her scores. From her previous play. So, today on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the best, she’s a 6.
Epilogue
Oh, that reminds me, her sweet (To Candyland) story, all 15 lines of it, appeared in the paper today (Young World, Friday Review, The Hindu). I didn’t even know she had sent it in. Apparently, she’d asked my older kid to send it in 2 weeks ago. It all makes sense now, why she was wolfing down the papers lately. Much thanks to the paper-people…
I thank my friend for this lovely article, hope you have something to reply.