Sunday, July 29, 2012

conflict resolves

The bug or chocolate conflict was continuing for few more days. To facilitate a resolution, I left the thing in a very visible place, but it was not working. Daivik was getting increasingly convinced that it was not real ("otherwise it will not be still here", "see, the legs are still bent outside"), but paradoxically was trying hard to convince me to open it for him. When it was not working, he asked Avin who came home one day to open the chocolate for him. Now Avin had no idea of the preceding drama, and was about to open it. Daivik's eyes lit  up brightly and with a wide grin he started to wait for the finally-now moment. I tried to explain the situation to Avin, but how to do that without dampening Daivik's excitement or Avin's eagerness ?

Daivik was getting restless with the almost opened I'm-sure-its-chocolate in front of him, I was eager for an amicable resolution to the conflict, Avin was half comprehending the situation and trying to think fast. The chocolate was still with Avin who was still in the process of opening it but was starting to try to ask Daivik more about it. The moment became pregnant, everybody involved were on the edge and it became obvious that something was definitely going to happen. The choco-bug was getting ready to finally meet  its destiny, it must have been a terrible suspense for the poor thing. 


What happened next is a bit of a blur. In a matter of microseconds, the chocolate exchanged hands, the cover was forcibly torn open and the whole of it ended up inside  Daivik's mouth. After few seconds of all around silence, a still grinning Daivik made a chocolaty announcement, "Appa, see, it is not a real bug".

Saturday, July 28, 2012

conflict


Early in the morning Daivik wanted a big chocolate that was shaped like a lady bug. I remembered his previous rather, er, positive experience with lady bug. So to discourage him from the large chocolate that early, I asked him gently if he was sure it was a chocolate and confused him further by suggesting, "perhaps it is a real lady bug?". The effect was dramatic : he immediately flung the thing down.


But a chocolate - real or not - is a chocolate. After the impact had subsided he suggested to me "can you check if it is crawling ? If it is not, I think, it may be a chocolate". So, I "checked", and, what a wonder, it was not crawling. I reported it to him. He suggested that in that case, I should keep it on the table for further examination, which I compiled with. He had a good look at it from a safe distance and reported his results : "Appa, I think it is not real bug because a) real bug is small, this is big (shows the size by hand), b) real bug has black spots, this has white, c) real bug's legs are "bent inside", this is "outside". Therefore it is chocolate bug. Can you open it".


I said "if you are so sure it is not real bug why not open it yourself". The next moments were precious. He was simultaneously taking a step forward and withdrawing it, drawing his hand forward and retracting it. I realised I was witnessing a rather primal contest, a conflict between conviction and fear, between the decisions we make and the ones that makes us. I thought perhaps it is better if he makes this important choice by himself. When I returned back after some minutes it had taken a funny form. He was standing at a safe 1.5 feet from the "bug" and asking it, literally, "lady bug, are you real ? Or not ? Tell me. Now. Soon".

Thursday, July 26, 2012

call everybody



'Daivik, come let's have dinner'
'Daivik is not here'
'who is here'
'This is spiderman'
'Spiderman, come for dinner'
'This is also superman'
'Superman, come for dinner'
'This is also fire engine driver'
'Fire engine driver, come for dinner'
'This is also police'
'Police, come for dinner'
'You have to call everybody, otherwise how can we come?'
'Spiderman Superman Fireengine driver Police, come for dinner'
'Okay, I'm coming'

Thursday, July 19, 2012

girls like it !

Daivik and me were working in the garden when I spotted a lady-bug on a leaf. The large palm shaped leaf was almost fluorescent green in the afternoon light, the bright red ladybug with black spots was sitting right in the middle, making it a very pretty sight. I called Daivik to have a look. He saw the scene and asked if he can ‘pink’ it. I didn’t quite get if he said pink or ping, but said okay mostly to keep him engaged, wondering at the same time how do you ping a bug (does it have a RFID tag or something…).


He took a pink colored chalk and started painting a nearby wooden board rather furiously. I got curious after he continued it for longer than his usual attention half-life of 2.3 seconds. So I asked him what he was doing. He was making the board pink. And why? With utmost sincerity he said ‘because girls like pink’. I didn’t understand the connection until he explained the logic: Ladybug is a girl, girls like pink, so he is making the board pink.


I was too flabbergasted to react, but he continued onto his next project of dissolving the remaining chalk in a bowl of water. He was making a pink swimming pool for his lady (bug).

Monday, July 16, 2012

Friendship


When I entered the kindergarten to pick up Daivik, I was greeted by the following sight : Josephine was engrossed with wooden building blocks and Kuby was watching her work intently. Daivik, with a long face, was standing at a distance and looking at them. 
As soon as he saw me, his eyes welled up and he said ‘appa, Kuby is not my friends anymore’. I looked at Kuby, who confirmed the fact, adding for good measure ‘he will never be my friends again’. This broke the dam and Daivik burst into tears, somehow managing to tell me amidst sobs, ‘see, I told you’. Josephine, not to be outdone, started rattling the names of all her friends, not including Daivik, bringing about a fresh wave of tears. I turned to Kuby and asked, ‘why is Daivik not your friend’. Kuby reported that Daivik destroyed the wooden house Josephine was building. By the time I turned back to Daivik, he was ready with an answer. ‘It was an accident’, he said, adding rather paradoxically, ‘it will not happen again’. ‘Can you say that to Kuby?’, I asked. So Daivik went to Kuby and repeated it, stressing the will-not-happen-again part. Kuby started smiling and they held hands for a moment. Josephine, watching the show, started the names again, this time including Daivik. And, just like that, everybody were smiling, everybody friends again. Daivik included me in this joy. “Appa, see”, he said, this time amidst peals of laughter “we are friends again”.

How simple !

Thursday, July 12, 2012

funny

Several months ago I mentioned the word 'funny' during the course of a conversation. Daivik, ever alert for new words, promptly asked "what does funny mean". 
I was a little hesitant to give him my impression of such a subjective word, instead we decided to figure out the meaning together. This evolved into a little game.
Every once in a while, he would point to something - a passing car, agrowing plant, the occasional blue sky - and ask "is this funny ?".
Few weeks back when we were in a shop, he burst out laughing and told me "appa, look, this is so funny". The definitiveness of the statement caught me and I turned to look at the object. It was a funny (!) looking balloon in the shape of a mouse. I asked him why he thought it was funny. He said it is a balloon (something he could identify) but shaped like a mouse (something wierd) and "made me laugh". Pretty close, I would say, to how I would have defined it.

Of course, I had to buy that baloon !

Perspective

It was a long and narrow street, perhaps 2 meters wide. As I was biking back home on a fine spring evening, I saw a little girl of about 4 rushing towards me. Her hairs were carelessly tousled, hands spread wide, as she was zig-zagging across the street in an easy carefree joyous way that only four year olds are capable of. The sun was setting somewhere behind her and the low soft rays were refracting through the tossed hair, casting a dynamic halo. 


With the spring flowers, the evening light and the dancing object, it made a pretty photographic moment. But poetry was far from my mind as I was keen on averting an impending collision. I stopped on the side of the street to let this dancing joy cross me. As she passed, she gave a very non-chalanct glance in my direction, and without pausing, mid-stride into her dance said one of the most remarkable things I have heard in recent times. It stunned me and made me smile. It gave me a new definition and a privileged glimpse into the universes we leave behind as we "grow".

She said : "Hallo, Daivik's papa".

No, I did'nt recognize her!

eat me


I caught Daivik singing this "song". Turned out he had just made it up...
Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate
Told me Eat me, eat me 
Full box chocolate
Told me Eat me, eat me

atleast one


I happened to overhear the following conversation between Daivik and his mother.
"Mummy, I want one chocolate"
"No, I will give you two"
(giggling), "Okay, give me two"
"No, I will give you three"
"Okay, give me three"
"No, I will give you four"
...this continued until twelve, at which point an exasperated Daivik said :
"Can you give me "atleast" one" !!

The Home and the World

"But Daivik, tell me one thing, when you have lunch in your kindergarten, do you get out of the table and keep running around ?"
"no"
"so why then do you do it here?"
"but this is not kndergarten, this is my home" 
"what happens when you try to get up from the table during lunch in your kindergarten?"
"the teachers do not 'allow' it"
"okay, I will also not 'allow' it at home"
"but you are not my teacher, you are my father"

lolli-tree

Since the start of this spring, Daivik has been busy in the garden. He has sown seeds, waited and watched them sprout, observed the contours of the first leaves, the magic of the first flowers and amazed that vegetables come out of flowers. Today, as we were holding a lolli-pop between us and discussing the pro's (tasty) and con's (not good for health) of eating it, and negotiating for a reasonable compromise between the two, he had his eureka moment. Even as I was watching him, his eyes lit up and in less than a flash, a wave of inspiration washed over him. He explained it to me in a HurriedExcitedAnimated tone :
"appa, we will dig up the soil and put this lolli inside and cover it up. (shows how he will do it). then after sometime, "magic" will happen and 'lolli-tree' will come out. first we will have lolli-leaves, then another magic will happen and we will have lolli-flowers and then many many lolli's. after that I will pick them up all and eat them. (picks up and eats)"

So, we went out and 'planted' his lolli. We are going to wait for it to sprout. 

Question : will we get that lolli-tree ? How will it look ?

everything

The breakfast table was unusually quiet. That should have warned me. But I was completely unprepared for the bolt that struck. 
"Appa", said Daivik in a rather contemplative tone, "do you know everything?" (!!)
No darling, I most certainly don't. (otherwise I will be out of job !). But how to tell that ?
Holding my breath, I asked "what, exactly, do you want to know?". Turned out, the pressing question was why we don't see dinosaurs on streets. 

Phew, what relief ! 
"well" I said "they disappeared long before there were any streets anywhere". 
I was preparing the best possible answer for the next WHY question that was bound to follow. Instead he seemed to accept it. 
A few moments later he even complemented me. "see", he said, "you know everything".

wrong time


Daivik was getting bored in the tram. In front of him, but facing away from him, was an attractive girl in her 20's who was getting rather busy with her boyfriend. Daivik tentatively pulled her hair. She turned back, looked at Daivik, gave a hesitant smile and went back to her business. He tried again.
"Daivik !" came a warning call from his mother.
"what mummy", he asked, in a perfectly innocent voice.
"what are you doing"
"nothing"
"No, you were pulling her hair"
"how do you know"
"I was watching you"
"how do you know what I was doing NOW"
"I'm ALWAYS watching you"
"why do you keep watching me in wrong time"