Conversations with the toddler

The other day, as I picked up R from the school bus and headed back home, he asked me excitedly:

Do you know my name?

Err..yes, of course!

No...my name is T-Rex. Please call me T-Rex from now on..

!!!!

The name now varies from T-Rex, to Tiger shark, to dinosaur, to alligator, to myriad other species!

The child had a sport's day event a couple of months ago and R came home with his face and T-shirt all muddy. His mouth was smeared with remnants of chocolate too. Upon asking I came to understand that apparently the teacher had rewarded him with the chocolate because he "ran well". A little more prodding into why and how he ran and who else ran with him, he replied that he came first and the other girl who ran with him came second. The answer amused me to no end since it reminded me of this ad:

Several attempts to fish out the correct information went in vain since he kept altering the answers and I left it at that. I didn't think too much of the sports event until a couple of weeks later when the boy actually came up with a certificate for having stood first in sports day event. The event stated " getting ready for school" event. Whatever, that means. But, I am a proud mommy :-)

Talking of chocolates, until last year, R would religiously bring back all the chocolates that he'd receive at school. It is not the case any more. It was his friend's birthday the other day and I asked him if he wished his friend and got any chocolates. When asked why he didn't save any chocolate for me, pat came the reply,

"But, you'd anyway say that you don't want it, no?"

!!! 

*My dear son, at least ask me to see if I actually say that. Or, is it that you know I may not refuse and don't want to take a chance? ;-) *

Read More

Neighbours howlers (part two)

The play area in our complex is on the first level which makes the car-park and the walk-way - which are on the ground level- and play area separate areas. R loves to camper down to the ground-level and admire the cars and bikes parked and also run down the joggers path. So I end up being the only mother at the walk-way running and keeping pace with a curious toddler meeting other curious joggers and oldies who are taking their evening walk. On one such evening I happened to come across an old lady (henceforth referred to as OL) who seemed amused with R's ways.

R was making sweeping gestures on the road and attempted to eat some pebbles for which I sharply chided him in Tamizh. It was this juncture that my first encounter with the OL happened. She heard and understood me and simply smiled and went her way. Such reactions are not new to me and I assumed her to be one among others who generally give me a amused and even at times an indulgent nod. As R and I were retreating to our home we met the OL again. This time she was in a more leisure mood, apparently having finished her evening walk. She caught up with us.

OL: So, you are done with sweeping the road?- *smiling and directing the Q towards R*

I smiled back in reply

OL: So, which block?

Me: ...block

OL: So, does he (R) go to school?

Me: No, not yet. There's still time for that.

OL: are you working?

Me: No

OL: tuitions then?

By now I had sensed the extreme and needless curiosity in the OL. Such people turn me off completely. I really don't know how to shut them up. Politeness also comes in the way if the other person is an elderly one. I could have come up with a dozen excuses and given her the slip but the barrage of questions ensued so swiftly that I did not have enough time to think. At such times I mostly clam up and answer in monosyllables hoping the other person would take the hint. But this OL was no mean person to take hints. She went about her probing ways. And the interrogation continued...

Me: No

OL: how do you pass the time then?

I must have reacted sharply in my facial expression for she quickly added that yes, I had my kid to look after. But, she continued........

is he (R) your first)?

Do you cook yourself or you have a maid?

What have you studied?

What does your Husband do?

Is his job transferable? Is this your own house?

And finally....what are your names?

With enough boredom and agitation in my voice that my conscience would permit I answered the OL and prayed like hell that I never meet her again. Anyway she had all the information with her to chart out my life-sketch.

All I could feel and say to myself at the end was grrrrrrrrrrrrr.....

For people who are curious to know about the part one of this series, they can read it here. The plot is uncannily similar. Hope it is not me who has the penchant of attracting such fellow inhabitants.

Read More

Where's the mother tongue?

What is with parents and even grand parents these days to speak to their wards only in English? I stay in a complex that has roughly 500 flats and almost each having at least one kid. I meet so many parents with their children in the park area and all I get to hear is conversations in English. The percentage is slightly lower if the kid is below 2 years old but if the child is in the pre-school age or above that, in 8 out of 10 cases, across all communities, I witness the English-obsession scenario.

Earlier we were not exposed as much to the CBSE and ICSE boards of schooling as we are today. International schools were a rarity. Only parents who migrated from abroad had their wards speaking in heavily accented English much to awe and envy of us lesser-mortals. English-speaking was considered hip then and we all tried desperately to “fit” in. The situation as I see is has not changed much even today. I agree that good written and spoken English is an important skill today and hence needs to be developed and honed. Yet, this is not a sufficient excuse to banish the local language even from home.

I fail to understand the psyche of parents who send their children to international schools-where they anyway would learn and master the Queen’s language- and yet choose English over their mother tongue as the medium of communication even at home. Does it not border on extremism when your child knows a foreign language too well and responds ONLY in that language even when spoken to in a regional language that would be their mother tongue? How can this be a matter of pride when you announce to people that “my child understands X language but cannot or does not speak”? It is a probably a different matter if the child is raised in a foreign country. Even then, in my opinion, it is the duty of the parents to ensure that the child speaks his or her mother tongue at home. Whatever gaps or shortcomings noticed in picking up the language should be filled in by inculcating a healthy reading habit.

Does this trend mean that the mother-tongue is losing its importance? That if you do not know to speak your mother-tongue yet can write essays in English, you will be looked up to? There is already a degradation of regional languages from one generation down to the other because of the influence and sometimes overshadowing of other languages. Surely our parents and the generation before them spoke a more correct form of our regional tongue. I, for one feel quite bad for not knowing to read or write in my mother tongue. While my husband and I have arguments about which one of us speaks better Tamizh, we agree wholeheartedly on teaching R this language. It is up to us parents to inculcate in young minds the pride associated with vernacular language and ensure that it does not meet a slow death generations down the line.

ETA: This is a link shared by Sebamedmom about languages and what a crucial role it plays in individuals by Ganesh Devy at Mumbai Tedx event
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vc76V7rXDqg

Read More

Neighbour's howlers

The other day, I got myself and my 10 month old son ready for the usual evening outing into the play-area. The lift arrived and I pushed my son’s stroller into it and pressed the down button. As luck would have had it, the lift decided to give someone else’s command the first preference, so up we went all the way to floor number 8. A well-dressed middle-aged lady got into the space with us. As good neighbours we acknowledged each other and engaged in small talk. The conversation or should I say interview went like this:
Lady: new? Which floor?
Me: (smile) second
Lady: own house?
Me: no…(I wish for the lift to descend faster)
Lady: working? Where does your husband work?..(now, most people I meet have never heard of my hubby’s company as he is not the usual software techie. So people expecting to hear a Infosys or a Microsoft seem clueless or give an almost sympathetic look when they hear the name)
Lady: umm..oh…where is it (she is undeterred nevertheless)
As I mumble out the correct answers, my son gets fidgety and I need to calm him down. As I do so in Tamil, my mother tongue, lady is pleased to know that I am from the fellow speaking language.
Lady: boy or girl? How old? Your first? (The third part sets me wondering if the answer would set her off in giving me some family planning gyan)
Thankfully, we arrive at the destination at this point. I mumble something to her and rush out. She follows and even as we part ways she prods, Iyer or Iyengar?
Do come home sometime….
Phew!..in less than 5 minutes, she knew almost all the basic details about me. Another couple of minutes with her and I am sure she would have had my ancestors’ life-story before her. Call it the art of conversation or the work of over-worked paparazzi.

Read More