childhood

 William Shakespeare beautifully describes the seven stages of life and all the teachers explain it with their wit and wisdom with enthusiasm, picking out different literary devices and in-depth meaning which would amaze Shakespeare too, had he got the privilege of attending an English class here. 

But now the things are changing at a great speed with technological revolution the stages have intermingled, at times beyond recognition, the lines distinguishing the various stages are getting blurred and are almost fading away.

The innocence of that whining schoolboy is vanishing and so is the pard of the Bard getting disillusioned. The grown-ups are so busy with social media that their saw sayings have literally changed into something else.

Children are so busy in the virtual world that they are losing touch with reality. A few years back when a child in some foreign land was asked,' What are Uncle chips made from?' The child knew that they were made by some uncle but did not know that they were potato chips. I  was very amused that the child did not know such a simple thing.

I was in for a shock when my child wouldn't believe that the henna in the cones is a plant product and is made from the powdered leaves of a shrub.'How could the mehndi that colours the hair and hands be a shrub ?'

I always love to tell them about my childhood days, the simple ways that made life a fairy tale. One day we went about collecting henna leaves, there were no polythene bags then, our pockets and frilly frocks were sufficient enough to gather nature's wealth. We moved from one bush to another, one locality to another, and collected the tenderest leaves which would be easy to grind. Then we went to the most non-interfering aunt's house who would lend us her grinding stone and tolerate our giggles. The joy of grinding in turns and sprinkling water in between would indeed be so thrilling. 

Time, we didn't bother to see. It was four o'clock when we started for home. The children who were listening to it sprang up and almost screamed' 7 to 4 !!'' and Nani didn't say a word? How cool! you would have kept calling us till our phone batteries were dead. '' 

'And then she would have called up our friends and then their parents,' added  one of the kids."  It was like adding fuel to the fire. The crime rate was not high is my standard reply.

'Did Nani scold you?' they asked anxiously.

It was four but I was very sure that my mom would not scold me, she never had ever scolded me, I was the youngest and she was the busiest person in the family. 

I quietly entered the house, doors were seldom bolted so without much commotion, gained entry and then with henna in my fists tightly clutched I tiptoed towards the shed in the backyard, but my way was blocked by a familiar plump figure.. my mom...I looked up and tried to smile ..grin..but before I could ..I was up in the air, Maa didn't utter a word she lifted me up by my arm and rotated me. I rotated at different angles with variable speed. I was two feet up above in the air. I was just five years old!

The children didn't ask what happened to the henna in the fists if the palms got the desired hue, nor did they imagine the plight of a five-year-old rotating two feet above the ground, the axis was just five feet high, they didn't try to calculate the height of the five-year-old...they were only happy that their mother at five could stay out of the house 7 to 4 without being disturbed by her mother's call.

'What a wonderful life you had ..didn't your mom say don't talk to strangers?'

Yes, she did..but the joy of wandering with a group of friends is priceless ...next day we decided to bring back Hema's cow, whom she lovingly called Indira..In spite of knowing that the cow will keep walking ahead if you follow it ..the group of five with their leader aged 10 and others members in the range of 5 to 7 years ...the trail and the tale continued till 7...childhood...needs to be created ..once again away from the virtual world ..let it not get entangled in the web..webs of all sorts