Rashmi's Space

We are in a huge hall. Spacious, airy, with large open windows. The hall is divided into two parts. One part is meant for the spectators, who are mostly parents. The other part has four large anti-skid mats placed at a distance from each other. At the head of each mat, a little away, is a table with two chairs facing the mat. Towards one end of the hall is a stage which is set with a table and a few chairs. Certificates and large trays holding medals are placed to one side of this stage on a smaller table. At the back, hangs a large banner with the name of a Karate school, welcoming one and all to the District Level Karate Tournament. As spectators settle down, children gather at the other end of the hall, answer the roll call and settle down in the different batches they have been segregated into. Some of them are very young, with barely all the milk teeth in place. Some others are older. But their faces are similarly angelic to the younger ones, yet. And then there are ...

We are all taught right from childhood that being merely ‘okay’ isn’t enough. That we should be first in the race, not be in the ‘also ran’ category, because, of course, there is always room at the top; and that we can get there if we can only push ourselves to the maximum possible extent. And we believe this our entire lives and keep pushing ourselves more and more and more. And when we have children, we teach them the same thing. We teach them to be the ‘top of the bunch,’ to ‘push themselves to excel in whatever they do.’ We tell them, “if you want to do something, do it the best, otherwise there is no point doing it!” We tell them, “no one remembers the second best, but no one forgets the best! So be the best!” We tell them, “It is important to be someone people look up to, and not someone who isn’t even noticed!” But have we, even once, thought if it is really necessary to excel at everything we do? Why is it that we have this compulsion to be ‘the best’? And reall...

Many different teachers come in our lives and initiate us in this world through their passion and with the help of their own experience and knowledge. And while each of them do justice to this calling in their own special way and while every single one of them is special, there is always one or the other who is a particular favourite with children. Of course, this has more to do with the children than the teacher herself/himself; because one seeks and relates to only what one can appreciate. And so, if you want to know if there’s a certain teacher your little one thinks is special, and why, the best way to do that, is to ask the little one directly! For me, this was much easier till a few years back, when, like they show in advertisements, I could sit with my little one, a plate of cookies between us on the table, and pretended to ask him casually, who his favourite teacher was. Because, that time, you see, he was so young and so naïve, he would be happy to chat. But as he gro...

  It was only a few weeks ago that we heard of the now notorious Blue Whale game for the first time in India. At the time, we breathed a collective sigh of relief that this is not something that we have to tackle in our country, yet. Nevertheless, we warned our family and friends about this and began to worry about our children, praying that we do not miss any signs when it comes to our own families. And then the reports came of a suicide of a teenager in Mumbai; and the rumour mills started working overtime connecting this to the global horror of the Blue Whale phenomenon. Of course, there were counter rumours too, which denied any connection between the two; but warned us, anyway, about being vigilant when it comes to our children and their activities.

This is a sponsored post for Hewlett Packard (HP) as part of their #ReinventMemories campaign and has first appeared on MyCity4Kids.com  “Why aren’t you talking to your mom?” I heard a whisper. “Because she is working, dodo!” this was my little one’s voice. It was a weekday afternoon and he had a friend over. While the boys watched TV and generally hung in the playroom, I was at my desk finishing up an article that was due soon. That is when I heard this conversation. I went and stood close to the playroom door and tried to hear further. “What do you mean she is working? She is at home isn’t she?  My  mom works! She leaves in the morning and gets back only in the night.” “My mom works all day too!” my little one chirped. “What does she do?” his friend wanted to know. “My mom is a writer. She writes articles and stories. I also write stories. I even illustrate them, like Quentin Blake did for Roald Dahl. Only, in my case, I am the one...

“Mum, I want rasam to drink.” the little one declared. “Sure, give me ten minutes, will give you. But why rasam? Are you feeling a cold coming on?” I asked worried. “No, no, I just felt like it. Just for the taste.” he said nonchalantly. I stood in the kitchen, trying to come to terms with the fact that my little one, who has till now never asked for rasam specifically, in fact, who has even refused to have rasam whenever I have offered it to him as a cold or cough remedy, was suddenly asking me for this concoction, no demanding it just for the taste! And even as I was still taking this in, I heard him go out and speak to his Dad. “I am having rasam before dinner Dad, would you like some too? I can tell Mum to make for you as well…” he asked his father. “Sure! Go ahead,” the father happily replied. So in walked my little one again to deliver the order for one more bowl of rasam and as he went out, his father asked him “You like rasam, is it?” “Yes.” ...

The alarm rings. I look at the time, snooze for ten minutes and turn on my back to see my little one lying next to me. Okay, so he has wandered in during the night and is now sleeping spread-eagled, occupying most of the bed, having kicked my husband as close to the edge of the bed as one can go without actually falling off. I find myself smiling as I pull the covers on them. My little one has his exam today and unless I get started in the kitchen now, he’s sure to miss his paper. I am trudging to the bathroom, dragging my feet and cursing the early hour, when suddenly it occurs to me that it is not only my little one’s exam today, it is his last exam paper! It is the last day of school! I do a little dancing jig and almost trip on the bathroom mat. And then I rush to the bedroom to wake the guys up, with a spring in my step! Oh yes, it is the last paper today. Yay! Another academic year finished! No more worrying about the school schedule, no more ironing the uniform i...

"Mum, do you know the f-word?" asked my little one the other day. "Do you  know it?" I asked him in return. "Of course I do, and I also know the s-word!" he told me smugly, before he was (thankfully) distracted by something on the TV; leaving me to thank my stars that I did not have to go any deeper in that discussion today. Phew! You know, I am often asked by people to recommend books for their children of various ages and in various genres; and I am more than happy to help. I have always enjoyed reading since my childhood and I am only too happy to help others enjoy this wonderful habit too. And what is really heartening, is to see parents being diligent and concerned that their children only read age-appropriate books, preferably classics, by well-heeled authors; and most importantly, with very less or absolutely no swear words. But as delightful as it is to recommend a lovely book; I wish parents also asked for recommendations about o...

हम में से शायद ही कोई होगा जिसने बचपन में ये दाँट ना खाई हो। बच्चों के अलावा हर किसी को लगता   है की राय सिर्फ़ बड़ों की पूछी जानी चाहिए। बच्चों से क्या पूछना ? बच्चे तो बहुत छोटे होते हैं , उन्हें क्या पता ? बच्चों का काम है खेल कूद करना , पढ़ाई करना , वक़्त पर खाना खाना , और माँ बाप को बिना परेशान किए " अच्छे बच्चे " बनकर रहना। बस। ये कोई नहीं सोचता की शायद उनके भी कुछ समझ में आता होगा , शायद वो भी कुछ सुझाव दे सकें जो वाक़ई में बड़े काम के हों ... पर ना साहब , हम बड़े , और ख़ासकर हम से भी बड़े , सिर्फ़ इतना मानकर चलते हैं की बच्चों को अनुबव काम होनेसे उनमें सूझ बूझ , परिपक्वता हो ही नहीं सकती ! अब पिछले हफ़्ते की ही बात ले लीजिए। हम छुट्टियों के बाद बंबई से लौट रहे थे और हम लैंडिंग के बाद हमारे समान की प्रतीक्षा कर रहे थे। हमारे साथ हमारे काफ़ी सह प्रवासी भी इस इंतज़ार में थे कि कब समान आए और कब वे निकले घर ...