childrenstories

That Empty Box is ALSO a Toy!

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What is a toy?

To answer this question, we first need to look at how we (adults) define and view toys versus how children view toys. We have a very specific understanding of what a toy is. A toy is something that a child can play with. But, this ‘something’ comes with a disclaimer. We are comfortable when a child plays with a toy that is manufactured by the toy industry that has made sure it is age and developmentally appropriate. That, that piece of object carries the seal of the toy industry.  So, if a baby wants to play with a mesh sieve from the kitchen or a toddler wants to use the broom, we are not wholly comfortable. We don’t consider these as toys. We redirect them almost instantly and instinctively without much thought, “Why don’t you play with your toys?” 

But, what is a toy for a child? 

For a young child, anything and everything is a toy. If a toy is something to explore and play with, then yes, everything is a toy. We forget that babies come afresh into this world. They are free of our societal and cultural conditioning – they do not look at the hair brush and instantly associate it with combing. They will grow to create such associations. But, they are, in a sense, free of the restrictions that we hold. So, if a baby finds a hairbrush, they will mouth it, roll it, chase it, mouth it again and delight in the texture of the bristles and explore it with fervor. A toddler might not just brush their hair but their feet, their frilly frock, the couch pillow. An older child may run towards a heap of leaves, jump into it, climb out of it, stomp on it, jump into it again and giggle in the rustle and chaos of the scatter. This play, this exploration of the object is their way of understanding and engaging with the world. It is their way of asking “why not?”

But, do we look at these as toys? And, more importantly, do we look at this as play?

If the children are engaging in repeated exploration and manipulation of the objects and if the objects are giving them joy, can we not look at the hairbrush and the heap of leaves also as toys to play with? 

Specific Playthings

The toy industry is a multi-billion dollar establishment whose sole purpose is to design and manufacture toys for children. Think about it, there is an entire industry dedicated to selling playthings for children. This is no small thing! This is a huge deal in giving children the much needed place in society, in giving their developing intelligence and innate curiosity due recognition. With more and more research emerging in the field of early childhood, toys are becoming further refined. There are toys to help children count, learn letters, reason, code, hone their eye-hand coordination and challenge their gross motor skills. In a way, the industry has left no stone unturned.  

But, by purchasing these toys, there is a certain security we derive. Firstly, we believe that ALL the toys that come through the industry are developmentally appropriate – they serve a purpose, a goal. That the toys are essentially what children should be playing with. That the toys with the lofty labels are what shape children in their lives. As goal driven individuals who seek results, we are convinced to buy a toy only when we are assured of its outcomes.

A mock example of how we typically choose toys for play

We know that by purchasing that particular toy, we are offering, essentially, a lesson on logic or the letters. We bask in the safety of these toys because we simply know. We feel secure because we can, in a certain sense, control the kind of early childhood experiences we can give our children. A rich environment filled with age-appropriate toys, each of which promise a skill, a learning! 

The Child’s Play 

But then, this child enters the scene and runs toward the cardboard box in which the toy itself arrived and plays endlessly with it. This is unsettling because we question what skill the child is acquiring through such play. We want them to play with the toy and not the box.

So, we show them to place the ball in the hole and the baby chooses to roll the ball on the floor. We are tempted to redirect them. Because, we know that by dropping the ball in the hole, they are learning a very specific skill. But what if the baby wants to roll the ball elsewhere? Drop it down an inclined slope? Are we willing to let them? Are we willing to let go of knowing ‘what’ they are learning from each exploration, from each play? Can we be comfortable in that space of not knowing? 

We must remember that children do not differentiate between a didactic toy and a non-toy, nor are they result-oriented. In a sense, children make every object a didactic object. They are little scientists who engage through experiment. They also do things for the sake of it.

They jump in the puddle of water because that is calling to them. Just because. What could they be learning from that play? We don’t know. Maybe they are teaching us to be joyful in the moment.

Letting Go | Finding a Balance 

In some ways, we need to let go of this control. We need to let children decide what they want to play with and how. We are going to watch for disrespectful behaviour and redirect those energies but, even that, we need to watch. Remember, young children are free of the layers of conditioning that we have? So, are they intentionally disrespecting the object or just exploring it in yet another way? We need to observe before intervening. 

We also need to strike some balance. Children do need didactic toys, they do need play that meets specific developmental needs. But, they also need time to play without constraints. If they want to roll the ball downhill instead of putting it in the hole, let them. 

We need to take away the notion that children need to learn something from every toy. We need to let go of controlling what they are learning from every experience. We need to be okay with not being able to pin down on what developmental need is being met through each play. 

So, the next time they go for the empty box, refrain from redirecting them to play with their ‘toys’. Instead, mark the joy of sitting inside that empty box, diving into the heap of leaves and jumping on a puddle of water as the mystery of childhood, the child’s world, their own domain and sometimes, at least sometimes, let’s not meddle with it.

“Let the children be free; encourage them; let them run outside when it is raining; let them remove their shoes when they find a puddle of water; and, when the grass of the meadows is damp with dew, let them run on it and trample it with their bare feet; let them rest peacefully when a tree invites them to sleep beneath its shade; let them shout and laugh when the sun wakes them in the morning as it wakes every living creature that divides its day between walking and sleeping.”

Dr. Montessori, The Discovery of the Child

Savi Paaty Series : A Story on Compassion

Tribute to Storytelling

Savi Paaty Series is a tribute to oral stories. I have created this in memory of my beloved grandmother – Savi Paaty. Each story in the series is a story within a story. Although oral stories are becoming a lost art, it is time we revive and bring them back to life, into our homes and schools, back into our children’s lives. 

Here is a story of Apoo, Abi and Janu – three siblings who live in Coimbatore, India and love listening to Savi Paaty’s stories. Savitri Paaty, whom the children fondly call Savi Paaty, always parted her hair in the centre, wore bright silk sarees and used the pallu of the sarees to repeatedly polish her already sparkling diamond nose-pin. Apoo, the eldest of the three siblings at 8 years, loves playing basketball, spends most of her time out in the open, climbing trees, and sporting new scars on her knees every day. Abi, at 7 years is Apoo’s closest confidant. He loves his cars and precious mechanic set. He never fails to bring the set out, screw, un-screw and explore the parts of his dashing wheels collection. Janu, the youngest at 5 years, tries hard to join in with her siblings in climbing trees and fixing cars, but secretly loves playing with her kitchen set and making ‘green-medicine’ with the fallen leaves on the porch.

It was late July, the monsoon had been pouring in Coimbatore and the trees and grass in the city were sparkling with a coat of fresh leafy green. With the heavy rains, as people in Coimbatore had grown to expect, came the flu season and both Apoo and Abi had caught the flu one after the other. They were recovering from a combination of cold, cough and a fever and were advised complete rest by their doctor. Little Janu had been upset that the flu had left her out of the pack, since, it seemed to her, the duo were having much too fun in their resting room with no school or homework to be bothered with, while she had multiplication homework and a test to tackle by Monday. Janu watched longingly as Amma carried bowls of warm soup and bread in the evening and warm, mashed rasam rice with ghee late in the morning and went back to her looming math homework with dread.

Suddenly, to Janu’s delight, an idea flashed in her head! She realised that with her siblings unwell, she could try her hand at some of the new toys that she had been eyeing for months. The dreadful day turned into a field day. Janu threw herself at all the new toys, like a child in a candy shop. One moment she was wheeling away Abi’s scooter round and round the living room, whiffing past Savi Paaty whom she thought would notice her zip. The next moment, she set the scooter aside and ran to fetch Apoo’s brand new badminton racket and was waving it in the air trying to strike the cork. Janu paused and looked at Paaty in delight but noticed that, oddly, her Paaty hadn’t noticed and was rather busily chanting prayers with the ஜெபமாலை (prayer beads) twirling at a rapid pace. She then went on to try her hand at the other forbidden items belonging to her siblings – a handful of puffed rice in Abi’s blue spiderman bowl and lastly Apoo’s orange and purple sunglasses. It was then that she noticed two crows cawing loudly from the balcony. Janu was familiar with the crows, they were usual visitors in their house and came promptly every morning for their feed. As a routine, Amma would keep hot rice and dal in the yard for the crows every day and just as expected, they were on time. If Amma was delayed, as she was today with her two kids still recovering, they would caw loudly and remind her that they were hungry too. 

The pair of cawing crows drew Janu’s attention and she ran to the balcony to watch them. She stood behind the glass door to the outdoors and saw one of the crows cawing with eyes focussed on her. The other was hopping up and down on the railing of the balcony and joining in the hunger call. Janu wondered to herself what the crows were cawing about when Amma came with a plate of hot rice and dal and opened the door to the balcony. The pair of birds flew from the balcony and perched themselves on the guava tree and watched patiently.  The moment the door was shut, Janu saw the birds fly back to the meal and peck at it instantly. The whole unfolding of activities delighted her and she ran to Paaty and declared, “Paaty, paaty, when I become a big girl, I will also feed the crows like Amma.”  The statement seemed to finally put a smile on her grandmother’s face and she stroked her granddaughter’s messy hair and said, “Do you know why we feed the crows every morning?” Janu was elated and wanted to hear more. She called out to Apoo and Abi from her grandmother’s lap and out came the pair of them,  excited to hear a story to brighten up their otherwise sombre weekend.

Paaty began, “Every morning, Amma feeds the birds rice and dal before feeding even you children because there is  a belief that our kollu thatha and paaty (great grandparents in Tamil) come in the form of the crows to eat and bless us.” Abi giggled and looked at the birds polish off the last of the dal and rice and asked Paaty, “Oh Paaty, does that mean Ramu thatha is now a crow and has come to eat parupu sadham? (dal rice)”  Apoo and Janu looked instantly at their grandmother to see her response when Paaty smiled and continued, “While this is the belief, Paaty has her own views on why we feed these birds.” The children shared a proud moment when they realised their Paaty had her own take on such big matters. Paaty continued, ” Our pithrus (ancestors) wanted to teach us to be compassionate towards all living beings and our mother earth. So, as a simple daily practice, we draw kolam (rangoli with rice flour done traditionally in most South Indian homes) in the mornings to feed the tiny ants, we grow tulasi with care and water it every day to value and respect plants.”  Paaty went on as the children listened in rapt attention, “Have you seen when we visit Gobi (Gobichettipalayam is a small town about 80 kilometres from Coimbatore) ,we always feed the cows every morning and Amma pours milk into the snake nest to feed even the snakes which we all fear?” The children nodded and Paaty said, “All of this is to embrace these living beings and not hurt them. Through these simple daily practices, our pithrus wanted to tell us to live harmoniously with all beings.” She concluded, “That is also why we feed the crows every morning.” 

The children were moved by the story and wanted to start pitching in instantly. Janu ran up to her Amma and said, “Amma, can I feed the crows from tomorrow?” while Apoo and Abi decided they would learn to draw kolams from Amma. Having made their decisions, Apoo and Abi started discussing what they would draw for the ants while Savi Paaty went back to chanting prayers for her two grandchildren to recover from the flu.

Savi Paaty Series : The Squirrel & its Three Stripes

Tribute to Storytelling

Savi Paaty Series is a tribute to oral stories. I have created this in memory of my beloved grandmother – Savi Paaty. Each story in the series is a story within a story. Although oral stories are becoming a lost art, it is time we revive and bring them back to life, into our homes and schools, back into our children’s lives. 

Here is a story of Apoo, Abi and Janu – three siblings who live in Coimbatore, India and love listening to Savi Paaty’s stories. Savitri Paaty, whom the children fondly call Savi Paaty, always parted her hair in the centre, wore bright silk sarees and used the pallu of the sarees to repeatedly polish her already sparkling diamond nose-pin. Apoo, the eldest of the three siblings at 8 years, loves playing basketball, spends most of her time out in the open, climbing trees, and sporting new scars on her knees every day. Abi, at 7 years is Apoo’s closest confidant. He loves his cars and precious mechanic set. He never fails to bring the set out, screw, un-screw and explore the parts of his dashing wheels collection. Janu, the youngest at 5 years, tries hard to join in with her siblings in climbing trees and fixing cars, but secretly loves playing with her kitchen set and making ‘green-medicine’ with the fallen leaves on the porch.

It was a bright and sunny morning in April; the three siblings had made plans to go swimming later in the day. Apoo was the first of the three to wake up; she came and sat on the திண்ணை (stone bench in the porch) with a glass of Boost in her hand, watching some squirrels chase up and down the neem tree. She was still groggy and waking up, while the squirrels were briskly and busily playing run and catch! Savi Paaty was sitting on the easy-chair, her morning spot, with a ஜெபமாலை (prayer beads), busily chanting away “Asaadhya Saadhagam”, a sloka of her beloved monkey-god – Hanuman. She sometimes participated in the children’s conversation and then went back to chanting. Paaty had already clocked around 400 chants since she was up from 4 in the morning. Right now, she was waiting for her second dose of filter coffee.

Apoo was just finishing up her glass of Boost and using her fingers to lick away the last of the chocolate paste, when Abi and Janu entered the porch. Abi came running down and joined Apoo on the திண்ணை, while Janu who was rubbing her eyes and yawning, sat on Paaty’s lap. Apoo quickly updated Abi on the squirrels and now, they were chatting away. 

Apoo said, “Look at these squirrels Abi! Look how fast they are running on the tree.” Abi ran up to the neem tree to inspect the squirrels closely. He wanted to tell Apoo that even he can run as fast as the squirrels, in fact faster! As he was craning his neck to get a closer view, he saw a squirrel jump up to a higher branch. Abi was now ready to climb the tree, when Paaty suddenly said, “Do you know why squirrels have 3 white stripes on their body?” Janu, who was until now slouching on Paaty’s lap, sat up straight and turned towards Paaty. Abi came running back to the திண்ணை and Apoo wiped the sticky Boost paste on her dress – washing hands had to wait! The children became attentive. They knew their beloved Savi Paaty always had lovely stories up her sleeve. 

Paaty, with her expressive eyes and hand gestures, began, “Long, long ago, there lived a brave and beautiful princess called Sita. She was married to Prince Rama of Ayodhya. Once, when they were in the forest, Ravana of Lanka came in his pushpaka vimana, and took Sita away to Lanka.” Apoo and Janu gasped. It was Abi who broke the silence by asking, “pushkapa vimam?” Paaty immediately said “It’s push-pa-ka vi-maa-nam, Abi – Ravana’s mighty aeroplane” and continued “Rama and his brother Lakshmana were distraught and sought the help of the vanara senai.” Apoo, now asked, “Paaty, what is vanara senai?” and Paaty clarified that they are an army of monkeys and bears. She said “Rama and Lakshmana needed a lot of help to reach Lanka because they needed a bridge to get across the sea.” 

Abi was puzzled, confused even! He wanted to know how monkeys and bears can build bridges. He said, “Paaty, but monkeys and bears cannot build bridges, only big people can!” Apoo, promptly said, “Abi, you keep quiet, this is just a story!” Paaty went on, “… So the monkeys and bears were lifting heavy stones and carrying them to the water. It was difficult, manual labour that required a lot of strength. Suddenly, they noticed a small squirrel on the side. It was carrying small pebbles with a lot of effort and dropping them in the water. This little squirrel went about its work in full earnest. The monkeys and bears found this very amusing and started mocking the squirrel.” The silence was palpable in the air, with the three children listening to Paaty with rapt attention.

Paaty continued the story, “… One bear went straight to the squirrel and said, “Ai Anile (squirrel in Tamil), you think you can build a mighty bridge for Rama with these tiny pebbles? Look how small and tiny you and your pebbles are! You need to be big and strong like us. Your tiny pebbles will drown in the water. Now clear this place up and go from here!!” She said, “The little squirrel was upset and hurt by the bear’s statement. It really wanted to help Rama find Sita. Rama, on hearing this, went and lifted the squirrel up and ran his finger on the body of the squirrel to acknowledge its contribution.” Paaty showed her three fingers and drew the stripes in the air to describe to the children Rama’s action. “The little squirrel proudly wore its honour of stripes and went back to collecting more pebbles.” Paaty concluded her story by telling her grandchildren that we must never mock at people, however small their contribution. She said, “Like Rama, we must be humble and acknowledge everyone for their effort and good intentions.” 

As she was finishing, her second dose of coffee came right up and Paaty said, “Now, you three go in and help Amma. Apoo, you can peel the carrots, Abi you can help set the table” and she looked at Janu and said “You must eat on your own today without Amma having to feed you and then see how your work is acknowledged.” Saying thus, Paaty went back to her ஜெபமாலை and filter coffee. 

The three children stood up and went inside – they had their contributions to make!

Kanaa’s Winter Cream Adventure: In the Words of her Mamma

Tales of Little Children

The work of a child is hidden in the form of play. Through innocent and mischievous play, little children understand much about themselves and the simple lives that they lead. However, adults often fail to pause and understand the intent behind these acts and view them as behaviour that need to be reprimanded. Without comprehending why and how the innocent play began, we swoop in and rearrange the child’s play to restore our idea of order.

This story is narrated by a tired mother who recollects her little child’s innocent play and shares with us the events that ensued. Between the lines of this story, there is much left for us learn from the mischief, the innocent 2 year old behind the mischief and the mother who witnessed the mischief!

It was a usual weekday noon. I was busily preparing lunch while Kanaa was occupied in a rather quiet activity. Usually, I have to plead with Kanaa to find something to play on her own but that day seemed easy. She had found something to busy herself with and stayed unusually quiet. Since I was a first time mother, I hadn’t fully realised what it meant when things were quiet in a toddler’s room. I was happy and relieved that I had avoided a power-struggle with my toddler and continued to cook peacefully. It had hardly been minutes since I began feeling a sense of zen when Kanaa came running out with her hands and face WHITE! They were completely covered in layers of thick, winter moisturiser. 

My first reactions were speechless! I was absolutely dumbstruck. The tired mom in me began to wonder how much cleaning would have to go into this. This particular winter cream is extremely thick  and used for harsh winters that we experience in Switzerland. The box recommends a very thin layer which stays on and shows clearly. So, you can imagine! But before I could react, I just stopped to notice the pride on the two year old’s face. She was smiling wide and her nose was up in the air feeling ever so proud of what she had achieved. She broke the silence by saying excitedly, “Amma, look I applied cream all by myself. I also applied for Georgie.” Yes indeed, she had perfectly applied moisturiser for herself and her favourite plush toy ‘George’ – curious George, the monkey. 

I just began to laugh. I laughed incessantly and grabbed my phone to take a photo before the scene could change. I just wanted to freeze the moment, before the tired mom in me woke up again. This photo still remains precious to our family. I knew at that moment that I should cherish this for it will never happen again. I simply stood there and listened carefully to her endless explanations of how she had achieved her dream goal! 

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She then took me by my hand and walked me over to her room to show HOW she had achieved this feat. She took me around the room and described the whole process to me. To my surprise, there was hardly any mess at all. Imagine a two year old had opened a box of cream that she could dip her whole hands into! There were no marks or white patches anywhere. The box of cream was open, it was as good as new just a day earlier, but now it was almost over. 

She wanted to come clean with me. She pointed out the areas where she had accidentally smeared the cream on while applying for herself and Georgie – the bed sheet, the side table and the mirror. She then narrated a long story of how she had used the roll of tissue, which I usually kept handy in her room because of how it gets with toddlers, to wipe out the messy areas. They were hardly visible since she had wiped them out quite well and neatly collected the used tissues by the side of the bed. 

The tired mom in me, which had wanted to giver her a piece of my mind about all the cleaning that I would have to do, had just disappeared. I was thoroughly impressed by ‘the process’. In the photo, on close observation, one might notice how neatly she has applied the cream. She had intended to make no mess. It wasn’t a joke to her. It was serious work. Kanaa’s goal for that afternoon was to impress herself and her Amma by giving her one less thing to do for the day – apply moisturiser by herself! And, IMPRESSED, I was. 

Nevertheless, I did spent the next three days giving her thorough showers and soaks in the tub to get the thick layers of winter cream out of her hair and face. As for Georgie, he went into the washer for two full wash cycles. 

My little baby is now five years old and applying cream might never impress her, or me, the way it had, three years ago. I’m so happy that both of us could live in that moment and enjoy it. It is so hard as a parent, to choose the right way to react to situations like these. I learnt then to remember to stop, think, re-think and make the choice and then react. 

Akanksha’s game of Hide & Seek

Tales of Little Children

Here is a story of little Akanksha who lives in San Jose with her parents Akshay and Shyama and her younger brother Dhruv. Akanksha turned 6 last month and has been going to public school, or as she calls it “big girl school” for the past year. Her parents sheepishly remark that dear Aaku is quite a bossy little one who thinks it is her responsibility to boss everyone, just like she does with her brother!

Apart from bossing her brother around, little Aaku enjoys playing hide and seek. It started off as an innocent game when, as a toddler, she used to hide herself in the same spot and giggle away even before she was ‘found’. However, these days she has upgraded her games from hide and seek to just hiding and then for hours after that, her desperate parents have to seek her. Aaku’s disappearing acts are definitely not something that Shyama or Akshay or even Dhruv for that matter, look forward to.

Her father recollects a particularly nightmarish incident which happened last August when they experienced one of the hottest summers. The entire family had to regularly treat themselves to some water-play in the evenings when the dryness and heat would reach its peak! Aaku in particular had been complaining of the heat and much to her parents’ dislike, had started sneaking some water balloons indoors on those really hot days. One Saturday evening, in late August, the family had some guests over for the weekend and spent the evening relaxing in their backyard while the kids ran wild playing with water-guns, rolling on the grass and jumping on the hammock together. None of the adults slowed the hyper children down and, in fact, were quite excited that they were exhausting themselves without any help from their end, because they had all made a plan to watch a movie together later that night.

After a lot of screaming, giggling and plenty of water-play, Shyama took both the kids to the bath and after a quick shower and an unexpected second-innings of water-play in the bath, brought the kids for dinner with the family. Dhruv was dozing off at the table and made no fuss to go to sleep, but Aaku, who was overtired, decided to jump on her bed and ask her father to read not one, but three books. Akshay had obliged and finally tucked her in to sleep and joined the group for the much awaited movie-night!

The movie was so gripping that all of them were completely engrossed in it and had not realised how late it had become. After the movie, Shyama decided to check in on the kids while Akshay attended to their guests. As Shyama took a quick peek into the kids’ room, she saw Dhruv sleeping soundly on his bed, but Aaku was missing. Shyama immediately checked the bathroom and also took a look under the bed and on the side, incase she had fallen down, but Aaku was nowhere to be seen. She panicked and immediately came outside and informed Akshay. They checked the kitchen and every other room, including all her favourite hiding spots – behind the blinds, under her parents bed, in the bathtub and even in the pantry, but Aaku was no where to be seen. At this point, Shyama was hysterical and the whole house had been woken up, including a half-asleep Dhruv who separately went to each room shouting “Aakshu akka, Aakshu akka” (akka for big sister)  without understanding fully what all the noise was about. Akshay was ready to call 911 for help, when Shyama suddenly remembered to check in the backyard. And there on the hammock, sleeping quite soundly despite all the noise, was little Aaku. On being woken up and asked why she even came outside the house and if she wasn’t scared, little Aaku cooly replied that her room was too hot!! They realised that their naughty little first born had gone out through the kitchen door into the backyard and since all of them were pretty engrossed in the thrilling movie, they hadn’t noticed.

Well, on one side, the parents were relieved on finding Aaku but reprimanded her and put a little fear into her about coyotes and bats in the dark. However, Akshay wearily says that knowing his daughter, he wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to make another disappearing act. Saying thus, he recollects another traumatising incident back in India, when Aaku had accompanied her grandpa to the vendor selling watermelons and while her grandpa was picking the watermelon, had climbed into a random school bus.  He also mentions another incident when Aaku had gone and hidden herself in a dog’s kennel in their neighbour’s house while the entire family was searching for her. He yawns and says he will reserve those stories for another day!

 

 

Little Abu, the Barber

Tales of Little Children

Here is a story of little Abu, a five year old with Dennis the Menace haircut and mischievous hazel eyes that twinkled every time he was upto something. Abu lives in Bangalore, India with his Mamma and Papa, his Dadi whom he loves dearly and a pet cat – Bijli. Abu loves to ride his scooter, mostly indoors than outdoors and on many days uses them as his only mode of transport within the house. Bijli would follow Abu from room to room and on realising that Abu has no plans of parking his scooter, would grunt and go find a cozy spot near Dadi’s sitting chair.

Little Abu loves his Dadi and enjoys going on walks with her to the weekly vegetable market. Dadi would insist on leaving the scooter behind and after some tears and tantrums, Abu, a thrilled Bijli and Dadi would walk together with a basket to buy vegetables. Meanwhile, Abu’s mamma silently worried that he was naughty and tried to set up more playdates to help him make more friends. Although little Abu was a sweet and friendly boy, his naughtiness often didn’t go well with his peers, sometimes even their parents! While Mamma was working on setting up playdates, Dadi was trying to find alternate ways to engage a constantly moving Abu. Abu would go round and round Dadi in his scooter and Dadi felt soreness in her stiff neck which had to constantly spin around to keep up with Abu. She purchased a craft kit with a pair of scissors, a bottle of glue, several coloured paper strips and even some stickers to engage her beloved grandson differently.

Abu was instantly drawn to the craft kit, especially the scissors. He had seen them before in mamma’s sewing room but those had large blades with huge finger-holes and mamma had not even let Abu near them. These scissors were smaller, more wieldy and Abu took to them right away. Dadi found Abu and Bijli sitting next to her; Bijli purring and Abu practicing cutting the coloured paper strips. It was a proud moment for Dadi, her trick had worked! Abu was finally sitting in one place and her neck was happy. All seemed well with the world.

Very soon, Abu had mastered cutting and was no longer interested in the paper strips. One evening, after dinner, just as Dadi was pulling her pallu to wipe up her mouth and hands, she found them looking like confetti. Bijli, who had silently witnessed this mischievous act, purred and looked away. Abu, on the other hand giggled playfully and ran away. Mamma had to reprimand Abu and tell him not to cut up Dadi’s sari. Abu had righteously asked how mamma spent all day cutting up cloth in her sewing room and nobody had reprimanded her!

A few silent weeks later, Dadi thought that the inappropriate cutting days were behind them and was shocked to find her favourite hibiscus leaves cut up in odd shapes! She chided Abu for cutting up the leaves and had to do the inevitable – take the craft kit away for a few weeks! Abu seemed upset but Dadi believed this would teach him not to cut just about anything and everything in the future.

While Dadi’s worries were put to rest, mamma had been working on setting up playdates for Abu. One Saturday morning, on their way to a haircut, Mamma had told Abu that Dadi’s niece and her son Romy were to visit the family. Mamma had prepared Abu to be a good boy and he was excited to meet Romy. After the haircut, Mamma had sat Abu down and talked him through being kind, sharing and not being a naughty boy. Little Abu had nodded his head rapidly in acknowledgement and Mamma hoped for the best!

Once the guests arrived, there was a lot of noise and joy in the air. Abu and Romy had been shy initially and hid behind their respective mothers. In a short while, Mamma found the boys playing football in the veranda and was overjoyed. After football, Abu rushed indoors and asked Dadi for the craft kit. Dadi, who was having an emotional union with her niece, half listened to Abu, opened her Godrej and took the craft kit and gave it to him. Abu and Romy delightedly took off to Abu’s favourite corner in the house, the secluded spot behind the bookcase. The boys seemed awfully quiet and the adults attributed it to the newly formed friendship.

In a short while, Abu and Romy happily came out; Romy was wearing a hat. Mamma recognised the hat instantly since Abu’s Papa had gifted him the hat with the letters RF on it. Mamma and Dadi were happy to see Abu part with such a special gift. When they asked Abu if he was sure about parting with the hat, Abu nodded and so did Romy.  After the guests left, Abu and Bijli took off again in the scooter on their usual rounds. Mamma was preoccupied with thoughts on how Abu was becoming less naughty, just as her phone began to ring.

On the line was Romy’s mother narrating quite a remarkable story. Little Abu seemed to have given Romy a haircut behind the bookcase! He had then parted with the RF hat to hide the hideous looking fringe. Mamma could not believe her ears and ran to the bookcase and there they were – tiny bits of black hair and a lonely pair of scissors!

 

Shyam’s trip to the Zoo

Tales of Little Children

Here is a story of little Shyam who lives in Mysore with his parents Santhosh and Nidhi. Five year old Shyam has loved animals ever since he was a toddler and over the years accumulated many miniature figurines in his home. He recently watched the Jungle Book with his mother and was thoroughly spellbound by Mowgli and his life in the wild. Ever since, little Shyam has played Mowgli in his imaginary world with the miniature figurines as his friends.

Because of his love for animals, Santhosh decided to treat Shyam by taking him to the local zoo where he could see some real life animals. Little Shyam had excitedly planned his trip, interjecting many questions like “Will we see Baloo in the zoo?” and how he will scream and run when he sees “Kaa.” What Shyam did not fully comprehend was the meaning of the word Zoo! 

On the day of the much-anticipated trip, Shyam and Santhosh arrived at the zoo. The entire ride was spent in Shyam asking questions about what animals they will see and if he could play and swing with them. A worried Santhosh had clearly told Shyam that he cannot go near the animals and must hold appa’s hand at all times. At the zoo, Santhosh purchased two tickets and the duo excitedly entered together.

Soon, they reached the enclosure with the grey langurs.

Santhosh : See Shyama! Here are the Langurs. They are monkeys. Let us count how many monkeys are there in this cage.

Shyam : Appa! Look at that monkey’s tail. It is so long Appa.

Santhosh : Yes Shyama, monkeys have long tails.

Without a pause, Shyam immediately asked “Why?”

Santhosh : Monkeys need long tails to jump from one branch to another Shyama. The long tails give them balance so that they don’t fall down .

Santhosh was very pleased with his informative reply. Little did he know what was coming next.

Shyam : Appa, there are no branches here. Where will these monkeys jump?

Santhosh found the question bemusing yet innocent and couldn’t help but acknowledge a tinge of guilt creeping up as he looked at the enclosure packed with monkeys. He brushed the thought aside and proceeded to answer his curious son!

Santhosh : This is a zoo Shyama. The monkeys are here only for us to come and see them.

Thankfully, Shyam hadn’t fully paid attention to his father’s reply and was swiftly shooting out his next observation, “Appa, look at this monkey. It’s holding something and eating.”

Santhosh was relieved at the move on the subject and responded, “Yes yes, monkeys eat nuts and fruits.”

Shyam : Nuts? Like the nuts in my mechanical set?

Santhosh : No no, nuts like palm tree nuts, figs and bananas.

Shyam : But there are no trees here. Where will these monkeys find their nuts?

Santhosh : Look over there! That is the zookeeper, he will buy nuts and fruits for these monkeys from the supermarket.

The educative zoo trip was proving to be more educative for Santhosh than little Shyam. They finally made a move from the monkey enclosure to an enclosure with colourful parrots.

Santhosh : Look, Shyama, at these beautiful parrots and cockatiels. Look at the colour of their feather and their beak.

Shyam was meanwhile distractedly observing a particularly loud and large crow cawing from a big bin.

He immediately giggled and said “Appa, look at this crow and the way its saying kaa kaa.”

Santhosh : What is there in a crow Shyama? Look at these parrots. They are special and beautiful in colour.

Shyam : The crow is also beautiful in colour Appa.  

While Santhosh looked at his son amused and surprised, little Shyama continued to look at the crow, playing a game of caw-caw with very excited squeals and jumps in between. 

A Peep into Mantrini’s Curious Mind

Tales of Little Children

Here is a story of Mantrini who lives in Coimbatore, India with her parents Raghav and Shanti. Little Mantrini just turned four and was gifted a spacious sand pit in her backyard where she loves playing and enjoys the ample space all to herself. Mantrini’s mamma is expecting her second baby and although little Mantra has been well-informed of a new sibling in sight, she does not fully comprehend that she will have to share everything, including her precious sandpit with her new sibling.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, it was Shanti’s turn to rest after lunch while Raghav played with Mantra. Of late, it was becoming easier to engage her because of her new-found love – the sandpit. Little Mantra would promptly take her pail and spade with a couple of cookie moulds and plop herself in the sandpit for hours, playing and making castles and pretend-cookies. This Sunday afternoon was no exception. Raghav decided to relax on his favourite armchair with a book and oversee his daughter’s play.

Just as the book was beginning to get more gripping, Raghav heard a squeal from the bushes. He shut his book and was ready to run when he heard Mantra’s excited voice from behind the bushes, asking him to come there immediately. Raghav wanted to see what was causing all this exuberance and ran to see an army of ants marching towards the bushes.

What follows is the conversation that transpired between Little Mantra and her Appa. Although, we like to call it a conversation, Raghav is bent on calling it an interrogation, one that was a lot trickier than a job interview!

M  : “Appa, Appa, what are these?”

R  : “Oh!” Raghav’s excitement had waned a little on realising that all this fuss was over some ants. “ These are just ants, Mantra.”

M  : “Where are they going?”

R   : “Umm… to their home.”

M  : “Where is their home?”

R   : “Somewhere in those bushes.”

Mantra, on hearing about a home in the bushes, promptly declared, “ I want to go there now!”

R   : “We cannot go into an ant’s house Mantra. It is too small.”

Mantra paused and glared at the ants and in no time bounced back with her next question, “ Is there an amma in the home?”

R   : “Yes”, Raghav was surprised at his vote of confidence in this reply.

M  : “Is there a paapa (baby) in the amma ant’s tummy?”

R   : “I don’t know Mantra.”

At this point, little Mantra seemed pensive and almost as if her curiosity had been satiated. As Raghav turned to head back to his chair, she shot back another question, “Appa, Appa, does the ant go poop?”

R   : “Yes, I’m sure they do.”

M  : “I want to go poopy too.”

Raghav lost all hope of finding out what happens next in the book and shut it. “ Okay, let’s go inside.” Mantra ran towards him and continued asking questions in between breaths. “Does the ant wear diaper, appa?”

R  : “No kanna, not at all.” Raghav was becoming more and more surprised at his expertise in the matters of ants.  

While Mantra was on her potty, she didn’t stop her questions and continued, “ Does the ant like Dora?”

R   : “No kanna, the ant likes sugar and all things sweet.”

M  : “Can I bring the ant inside to play? I will give it sugar. It can be my friend.”

R  : “No, Mantra, you cannot do all that. Ants will bite you.”

Mantra was about to ask her next question on why ants bite and how they will bite her if they were her friend, when Shanti entered the room. Raghav, who was perspiring at this point with the way the questions were progressing, gladly let Shanti answer Mantra’s questions and returned to his lazy chair.

On his way back, he couldn’t help but wonder how his four-year old daughter had managed to ask him more questions than his manager at work!

Veer’s Mysterious Toe Pain

Tales of Little Children

Here is a story of little Veer who is 2.5 years old and lives in Kochi, Kerala by the backwaters of the Arabian Sea. Veer lives in a colony that is filled with coconut trees and wonderful neighbours. Veer’s parents, Preetha and Sandeep recently moved back to their hometown after living in the UK for almost 7 years. The entire family has been enjoying their time back in Kochi, especially Veer, who loves the company of his grandparents, riding in the auto and visiting the beach.

Veer has recently picked up a habit, often to the concern of his mother, of imitating just about anyone who comes to their house. Preetha says he picks up any mobile phone, holds it like his father, and marches up and down the veranda of their house, mumbling something to himself. Recently, she caught him coughing just like her father and scratching his head like her mother. The one that drives Preetha crazy is the way he has been calling her, “Pi-ree-dha” just like the help in their house. Telling him not to call her that way has triggered mischievous giggles from Veer and the name has stuck since he refuses to call her any other way.

One day, Preetha noticed Veer holding his big toe and complain of pain. She immediately checked to see if everything was alright and even massaged his toe. To her surprise, Veer had not even flinched while she was examining his toe and was unusually calm for someone who was complaining of severe pain just a few moments ago. She gave him a kiss on the toe and assured him that everything will be okay and asked him to go back to playing. The moment she got up to get back to work, Veer’s mysterious toe pain reappeared and this time, he started limping. This made Preetha worried sick and she decided to put the matter to rest by taking Veer to a paediatrician. Thankfully, Preetha’s neighbour Aruna was a doctor and also a good friend. Veer was also familiar with her since he often went to their house to play with their dog, Tommy.

On explaining to Aruna about the mysterious toe pain, Preetha was surprised to see her laugh. It seemed like Aruna couldn’t control her laughter and almost had tears in her eyes.  Finally, on calming down, she explained that her mother, who lives with her, had hurt her toe earlier that morning and was walking with a limp. Little Veer who had been to their home that morning to play with Tommy had obviously noticed the different walk  and had resorted to imitating her.

Preetha was relieved to learn that there was nothing wrong with Veer’s toe and had a hearty laugh with Aruna. Aruna, then brought out a box and told Veer that she could help by giving him an injection for his pain, just like she had given grandma.  That was the end of Veer’s pain!