The lessons they teach

I have been postponing this decision to start a blog for quite a long time. 'Who are going to read my blogs anyway?', I thought, was a reasonable assessment both of my abilities to write and readers' ability to endure. Secondly I was worried whether I would be able to sustain the flow. 'Aarambhashooratva' (a Sanskrit phrase), a common human weakness that afflicts many a well-meaning endeavors, applies to writing as well. But then, suddenly I discovered a purpose today. May be, if I stick to writing two pieces (okay, one) in  a month, I would be doing something creative. This could perhaps keep my sanity intact and give me a well-deserved break from the monotony of file-pushing, travelling in the maddening traffic of Bangalore and umpiring during the fights between my two sons. Or so I hope. Though a forester by choice, I will not be restricting myself to all things green and wild. Ok, here I go.

The lessons they teach

            About twenty-five years back, on a cloudy-sky gloaming, I climbed up the stairs of the Syndicate Bank building in my village with mounting unease and sweaty palms. I was returning home after the school hours when suddenly a thought came to my mind. Why not go to the bank and ask my father to buy me an ice-candy? My elder brother, who has always had a more mature head above his shoulders, had assured me before walking home that father would not agree as he had acceded to my demand only the previous evening. Undeterred, I ambled up, my spirit a little dampened by my brother's refusal to accompany me. Familiar faces of my father's colleagues greeted me as I entered the office and someone called out, "Shastriji, your son has come to meet you". 

Busy doing some calculations on a thick register, my father raised his eyebrows and looked at me, without lifting his head.

"I want one ice-candy', I mumbled, a little shaken by his stern countenance.

"No", my father shot back almost immediately. "Not today. Only yesterday evening you had one".

"But appa I need only one", I pleaded.

"Today you will not get any ice-candy. Just go home. I have work to do".

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that all the staff of the bank was looking at us and I shrunk with humiliation. Determined not to end up a loser in front of others, I tried again, "appa please".

"Look here son", my father told firmly with a raised voice. "No more arguments. Go home now and do not irritate me any further".

"Shastriji, why don't you get him a candy? Poor boy, he is almost crying", a sympathetic lady staff told my father. Encouraged by this support, I ventured once more, "appa, it's only ten paisa".

Perhaps that was the proverbial last straw.

"Enough of it son. It is not the question of ten or twenty paisa. You will not get candies everyday. Is that clear to you? Now, will you go home or not"?

I realized that my father was in no mood to relent and I certainly did not relish the prospect of getting a beating or two in front his colleagues! I was left with no option but to walk home swallowing my pride with my mission unaccomplished.

          This incident comes to my mind whenever I see young kids being pampered by their doting parents these days. Chocolates, chips, ice cream, toys-whatever the little ones ask for, the parents are more than eager to grant their wishes, just to see their children happy. Is it not worth to pause for a moment and reflect-are we doing the right thing by acceding to all the demands of the tiny tots? Will it not make the kid think that she can get whatever she wants? Will it not make her trash the idea of thrift? Will it not make her indifferent to the fact that every kid in this world is not as fortunate as her? Will it ever make the kid realize the value of money? Will it not make her more materialistic from a very early age?

          When my father refused to buy me a candy on that evening I realized that had he wanted he could have mollified me by spending ten paise. But he wanted me to understand and accept that I will not get whatever I want or demand. Perhaps he knew that his denial would teach me this important lesson. Not to be greedy and to acknowledge the truth that in life we do not get everything we desire. Values that are arguably of high relevance for today's generation.


rajesh kallaje
bangalore