abu & rabad

Abu and Rabad’s cousin Pr___ (who is 18) was with us this weekend. She is starting college this week, and she will be staying in a hostel. Abu/Rabad’s friend Sw___ (who is 9 years old) was also with us on Sunday morning, and when we were all together, I asked the kids this question:

“Pr___ is 18 years now and going to stay in a hostel. Do you think she feels like an adult?”

“Yes…,” they said tentatively, not really understanding the question.

“Actually,” I clarified, “I think that Pr___ does not feel like an adult. I think she still feels like a kid. Can you guess why?”

This question made a lot of sense to them. Answers came in quick and fast:

“Because she still has school stuff to do” (I guess engineering college is “school stuff”)

“Because she still does not have her own money.”

“Because she still cannot stay in her own house.”

Pretty impressive, I thought, especially since I hadn’t though of these answers myself.

“Do you want to become adults fast?” I asked

“Yes,” said Sw___. “No,” said Abu. Rabad said “No,” first and then changed her answer to “Yes.”

“Why?”

Sw___ rattled off the answer, “Because I want to do whatever I want, and I want to go whereever I want, and I don’t want any parents bossing me around.”

“You don’t like parents bossing you around?” I asked.

“Of course not,” said Sw___, and then suddenly put two and two together, “Oooh. Pr___ doesn’t feel like an adult because her parents are still bossing her around?”

Pr___ nodded her head tragically in response.

“So, when do you think Pr___ will feel like an adult?”

“When she finishes her college and gets her own house and a job,” again Sw___ had an answer ready.

There was a pause while everybody digested this new thought. Then Abu countered:

“No, after that, you have to get married. And then your husband or wife bosses you around.”

At this point, I had to step away for a few minutes. When I came back, they had apparently had a conference, and Abu told me: “First your parents boss you around. Then you grow up and get married and your husband or wife bosses you around. Then you get children and they give you a headache. After that your grandchildren give you a headache.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

I decided to neither draw any conclusions, nor to prod the children into any conclusions. So there was another pregnant pause.

Then Sw___ spoke: “If you are an adult, you cannot sit on swings, and you cannot jump on the trampoline.”

“You cannot make somersaults,” added Abu, “and you cannot jump around.”

I don’t know whether the kids drew any conclusions at this point; I’m just reporting the facts.

(This post has been read by Abu and verified for accuracy, after a few factual errors were corrected.)

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it is a morning ritual between father and kids. he reads them the newspaper, explains what’s on and off in the world, and answers their questions.

today was bt brinjal’s turn. i tuned in towards the fag end of the conversation between navin and rabad. (i think it was because navin wanted to show rabad’s latest knowledge off and was asking her questions loudly, but that’s only a digression)

navin – so rabad, tell me why do you think bt brinjal is a good idea?

rabad – huu? (buying time to answer the toughie)

rabad (in all innocence) – because ‘b’ is for boy and ‘t’ is for one of good friend’s name…

i controlled then but i’m letting go now….

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…

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i wake up to the news of my city, mumbai, under attack. the discussion between navin & me and the terrified look on my face while reading the newspaper draws abu to the newspaper too. i try to hide the horrid pictures from him while typing out text messages to friends and family.

abu – mamma, what happened?

me – mmm…

abu – pappa, what happened?

navin – bad uncles are shooting at people and throwing bombs at buildings.

abu – oh…

me (pre-empting his why) – and you know what, we don’t know why (wondering if even they know why)

abu – i know why. they want to kill someone in the building.

me – some times that is not how it is. they do this to scare everybody.

navin – see when you get angry at pappa, you throw a book. you don’t want to really throw a book, you just want to show pappa you are angry. just like that, these people are angry about something and they want everyone to know

me – and neither is a good thing. you shouldn’t throw a book and they shouldn’t be doing this.

navin – yeah, throwing book is -10 (minus 10) points and shooting people is -10,000 (minus ten thousand)

abu (puzzled look) – shooting people is more important than throwing book. it has to be -infinity means -never-ending, means minus till they die, minus when they are reborn also.

you b@$!^*%$, may this 6-year old’s ill-wishes reach you. may you be in the minus till you die and in the after-life too.

and from me – may your death be slow and painful. may the hands that get to torture you be pitiless and the most brutal around.

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in our recent trip to Sikkim, both abu and rabad took their turns to fall ill. in fact, abu was on his 3rd day of anti-biotics when we left.

now, usually, we don’t depend on bottled water. we believe that little illnesses are good for the immune system in the long run. but, since this was so far away from home and they were ill, we made sure the kids had only bottled water.

At a restaurant, where the waiter had placed 4 glasses of water -

abu – mamma, i want water.

me – yep, let me order water.

at another restaurant, abu began helping himself to water from a jug on the table -

me (as if it’s the end of the world) – wait, wait, wait, not that water. have this.

abu was startled because he must not remember me behaving this way.

…so on and so forth.

By the 5th time this happened -

abu (in a very complaining tone) – mamma, why are you not letting me have Sikkim water!?

i let go – very proudly. navin and i exchanged “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” smiles.

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Yesterday in the afternoon, I was walking Rabad to the daycare. It was sunny and hot.

“Pappa, is winter over?”

“No baby. It is still winter, but for some reason it is hot today.”

“Oh. I want winter back. I like the cold”

Later, in the evening, unexpectedly it rained. The kids were playing downstairs, got wet in the rain, and had fun.

Today, Rabad asks me, “Pappa, is it rainy season?”

“No. It’s winter.”

“Then why did it rain?” she wanted to know.

“By mistake,” is what I could manage.

She thought about this for a while, and said:

“God is great, no? He decided to mix together rain and winter, so that we can enjoy both at the same time.”

I like her explanation better than mine…

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so, the day before hubby dear had this conversation with rabad…

rabad – “mamma, when i grow up, i’ll have a pee-pee like abu, right?” (i think i sensed hopefulness in her tone)

me – “no baby, we were made girls and girls pee-pees are different from boys”

rabad – “but, why?”

me – “uh…..that’s how it is…”

rabad – “why did you make me girl, i wanted to be a boy”

me – “oh…uh…if you were a boy, you wouldn’t get to wear pretty skirts and frocks, clips and hairbands, bindis and bangles…”

i’m thinking really quick while i’m talking…this is not the right answer, what makes me like being a woman…being treated like a woman, that i think rabad is already making full use of (read foot note)…what else, what else…getting away from the traffic cop…no, bad idea…absolutely wrong time to tell her the things i hate about being a woman…

“how will you have a baby? only girls can have babies” BINGO! (she loves the idea of having a baby of her own)

rabad – “abu will not have a baby?”

me – “no”

end of conversation….matter disbursed for the time being…

after listening to the conversation between hubby dear and rabad, i get this feeling that rabad was double-checking and was clarifying her follow-up queries.

maybe we are goofing up. but how do you tell?
—

this happened last year, rabad was 3. we had been to a restaurant with a few friends recently. abu and rabad usually take off their shoes so that they can sit cross-legged.

at the end of the meal…

rabad – “you put on the shoes for me, pappa”

hubby dear – “no, on your own”

rabad, turning over to her friend ag, who is was 5 year old little boy – “please put shoes on for me”

ag dutifully bent over and put her shoes on for her…

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for the first time yesterday morning, abu tread water in the pool without any floats!!!! now, he is all excited about learning how to swim fast (translated to breathing, moving hands and legs in coordination, etc – because according to him he already knows how to swim, you see, he can be in water without drowning for over 5 years now).

***
yesterday evening -

we were listening to some song (can’t remember which one) which the kids had seen on TV
rabad – mamma, is she sad?
me – no, she is actually very happy
rabad – then why was she crying in TV?
me – sometimes when we are very very happy, tears come out of our eyes. they are called happy tears.

abu – just like i was very happy this morning when i swam without floats and pappa said, “i am very proud of you, baby”, a tear came out of my eye…

—
ps. abu went on to clarify that the tear was not from swimming, but was a real tear

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