Thursday, February 28, 2013

assistant

One fine evening, Daivik declared, "I have made Tina my assistant". Rashi and me were startled and asked him simultaneously :
"How, exactly, did you make her your assistant?"
"What, exactly, does she assist you with?"

He answered us one by one.
"I asked her if she will be my assistant and she said okay".

The second one requires some explanation. Now, kids and order (as in keeping things in order) are mutually exclusive. Proper maintenance of the book shelf  is therefore a perennial issue in the kindergarten. The way the teachers deal with strewn books is to call for a "meeting" with the kids and "encourage" them to keep the books back. So Daivik had recruited Tina to do it for him !

Couple of days later we asked him about Tina. "She is not my assistant anymore". And why ? "She refused to keep my books back". I should have been there to witness this scene - Daivik asking Tina to keep the books back, she refusing, and his reaction to that refusal ! He made a sad face and said
"Now I have to keep all the books back myself". He contemplated on this for a moment and added,
"bechara main re" (Oh, poor me).

Thursday, February 21, 2013

at the hairdresser

Daivik's hairs had grown wild, like an unkept lawn. I, like a lazy gardener, was letting nature take its course until intervention came in the form of his mother. So, we marched to the neighbourhood hairdresser. Where a surprise awaited me. Turned out that Daivik has a favourite hairdresser there, Jenny, and he actually insisted on having her services. He settled into his chair and as Jenny covered him with a multi-color sheet having cats, spiders and cows, he started  a conversation. Jenny responded, and what followed was fun to watch. She was expertly balancing speed and precision on a target that refused to be still and he was filling her up with important details of his life. "Actually, I don't drink coffee. Because I'm a small boy". "You know, my best friend is Kuby. He is from Czech republic. But I'm not from Czech republic, because you know I'm from India". "But I don't like Jimmy"...

They started an intense negotiation on whether he should get a gummi-bear or a loli-pop after the haircut is over  ("both") and he started giving her wise counsel on how to eat a loli-pop ("slowly, but you must not but you must not bite it"). The place was filled mostly with elderly women on their monthly rendezvous. As Daivik kept up his banter, they stopped their gossip and were listening in, discretely at first but soon started laughing politely and pretty soon helplessly heartily. Daivik even attracted new customers. An elderly gentleman who was passing by peeped in to see what the gaiety was all about and ended up getting an appointment !

Somehow, in between unnecessary facts, unsolicited advice and eighty seven why's, Jenny managed to hold the conversation, suppress her laughter and cut his hairs. What a feat ! The whole place became noticeably cheerful as we were leaving. Everybody waved us enthusiastic good-byes !

Sunday, February 17, 2013

good boy

There is still about 200 meters to reach home. I'm balancing a bicycle with a flat tyre on one hand and a shopping bag on the other. Daivik is running ahead of me in a zig-zag random manner but in the general direction of home. Walking towards us is an elderly couple, arms locked, taking slow measured steps. About a hundred meters ahead is a small - usually empty - road crossing, which Daivik is fast approaching. The lady points at the road and the little boy to her husband. A wild boy, unleashed, rushing headlong into the bad roads, oh my God, perhaps it is too much for her. They stop on their tracks. The lady looks at me, looks at Daivik and looks at the road. She clenches her fingers and leans forward to get a better look at what-happens-next. I'm reasonably sure that Daivik will stop at the crossing. But then who can ever predict how anybody - Daivik, or non-Daivik - will behave at a given moment ?

Daivik, oblivious to this intense scrutiny rushes towards the road crossing, showing no signs of even noticing it. I contemplate calling him when he reaches the edge of the pavement. One more step, he is on the road. This might have been a good moment to check the pulse of the lady ! Suddenly, like a truck power braking at 120 kmph, Daivik grinds to an abrupt halt. The couple relax and breathe  as Daivik turns back to look at me. I tell him to wait there for me and he begins his impatient 'wait', hands on hips and legs shuffling laterally.

By now I cross the couple. They smile, the gentleman nods and says, "Good boy".

Indeed :) 

Saturday, February 16, 2013

mosquito man

We went to visit a relative in India. They had two large mango trees outside their home. Several large green unripe mangoes were dangling down, hanging in there like tear drops just about to fall.  Of course, Daivik wanted them out of the tree. Right away. Now, plucking mangoes - ripe or not - direct from the tree  is one of the unquantifiable pleasures of life. And of course, unripe mangoes, with a generous sprinkling of chilli powder tastes exactly like heaven. Whether Daivik finds it hot or not. Plus, you can mix it with plenty of mint and lemon to make a fantastic chutney. Whether Daivik prefers it or not. So, we had plenty of incentives to relieve those mangoes from the strain of gravity.

Question was how. The trees were massive and the mangoes were quite high up. There was nothing to climb on, except the tree itself. But it was evening, the light was fading fast. And there were mosquitoes  Plenty of them : huge, buzzing, menacing.  It was an epic battle against the elements. We took a long pole, attached a hook to one end and did monkey jumps with it, hoping to dislodge some mangoes. Boy, did Daivik miss his trampoline !

Eventually we got our mangoes. Yahoo. But the mosquitoes had their revenge too. The next morning, Daivik woke up with prominent bite marks, some of which had swelled up a bit. He was quite fascinated and observed them closely. Then he grew serious and in a voice that did not betray his emotions asked me,  "Appa, will I now become a mosquito man ?".  It was still that phase of the morning when reality is not  readily distinguishable from dream. He explained to me. "See, spiderman was bitten by a spider and he became a spiderman. Now, I'm bitten by mosquito, so I will become a mosquito man". Hmmm.

Spiderman, superman, batman...move aside, we have a new super hero !! Wonder how he will look, though.

(Can cartoonist friends figure it out. Sujeet?)


what else

Daivik was very excited about "going to India". We were preparing him for the trip for a while and when we actually landed in India, he was all wide-eyed, curious and shy all at once. I was wondering how a four year old would comprehend the concept of a country, much less a culture. I thought, rather simplistically, that for Daivik, India was simply a place where his grandparents lived. Once we slept off the jet-lag, I took Daivik for a walk around the neighbourhood. He was asking questions about  the houses around ("why we don't see this flower in Germany") and generally about India when we reached the end of the road. I told him we need to turn back. He thought for a moment and asked "Have we reached the end of India". I took a while to understand it and said "No, Daivik, this is only one street". "Are there other streets in India", he asked. "Yes, Daivik, There are many such streets in India". He took a moment to accept this and with a curiosity peppered with innocence, asked "well, what else does India contain".

Hmm, what else does India contain ? Where do we start ? On the other hand, perhaps, we can explore it together !