Khyati often complains that I and my wife argue a lot, often on silly issues.
She gets particularly peeved when we quarrel in the car. ``It gets very boring,’’ she says.
After one such prolonged squabble with my wife recently, I told Khyati that I wish that she and her husband don’t bicker.
``I will get myself a better husband,’’ was her prompt reply.
My wife, of course, nodded in complete agreement.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Hello Boys, February 21, 2010
Khyati is over 8 now.
She has a set of ``best girlfriends for life’’ who call on my cell phone to speak to her. They chat with me when I pick her at school or other occasions such as birthday parties.
Khyati in turn talks to their parents. I guess all of this is also to impress the importance they attach to each other and their circle of girlfriends.
Some of her friends sometimes complain to me about a teacher and also ask whether Khyati talks about them as much as they talk about her at home. ``All the time,’’ I tell them, which is the absolute truth.
Khyati is, however, a bully when it comes to boys younger then her and constantly spars with boys her age (mostly classmates), which often extends to physical fights that can get ugly and bruising and sometimes requires the intervention of adults.
The story is a little different with older boys. In the recent past I have had to strike conversations with some, particularly requested by Khyati.
One is a Class 8 football ``star,’’ the local Ronaldo whom the whole school apparently cheered during a high voltage inter-school competition in which he scored two goals; another was the leading protagonist at the school play, who I have now noticed usually has a set of ``older girls’’ hanging around him and giggling all the time at his jokes.
Both are tall, fit and handsome young boys.
Of course, Khyati is too young for them to notice or acknowledge and this is how I come into the picture.
As per the instructions, I have to walk up to the stars, say hello to them, ``shake hands’’ and then point at her and introduce, ``this is my daughter.’’
The boys are polite and good naturedly nod at her, even as she smiles back ``star struck.’’ She then runs to her friends to tell them that the famous ``Mr Hooks’’ said hello to her.
Till date, I have said hello to four ``stars.’’
To the football ``star’’ I said that I read about him in the school magazine and wanted to congratulate him for his feats. To ``Mr Hooks’’ I said that I watched his act in which he was fabulous.
I am now prepared to speak to many more ``stars'' that I am sure I will have to.
She has a set of ``best girlfriends for life’’ who call on my cell phone to speak to her. They chat with me when I pick her at school or other occasions such as birthday parties.
Khyati in turn talks to their parents. I guess all of this is also to impress the importance they attach to each other and their circle of girlfriends.
Some of her friends sometimes complain to me about a teacher and also ask whether Khyati talks about them as much as they talk about her at home. ``All the time,’’ I tell them, which is the absolute truth.
Khyati is, however, a bully when it comes to boys younger then her and constantly spars with boys her age (mostly classmates), which often extends to physical fights that can get ugly and bruising and sometimes requires the intervention of adults.
The story is a little different with older boys. In the recent past I have had to strike conversations with some, particularly requested by Khyati.
One is a Class 8 football ``star,’’ the local Ronaldo whom the whole school apparently cheered during a high voltage inter-school competition in which he scored two goals; another was the leading protagonist at the school play, who I have now noticed usually has a set of ``older girls’’ hanging around him and giggling all the time at his jokes.
Both are tall, fit and handsome young boys.
Of course, Khyati is too young for them to notice or acknowledge and this is how I come into the picture.
As per the instructions, I have to walk up to the stars, say hello to them, ``shake hands’’ and then point at her and introduce, ``this is my daughter.’’
The boys are polite and good naturedly nod at her, even as she smiles back ``star struck.’’ She then runs to her friends to tell them that the famous ``Mr Hooks’’ said hello to her.
Till date, I have said hello to four ``stars.’’
To the football ``star’’ I said that I read about him in the school magazine and wanted to congratulate him for his feats. To ``Mr Hooks’’ I said that I watched his act in which he was fabulous.
I am now prepared to speak to many more ``stars'' that I am sure I will have to.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Handling Candy (February 10, 2010)
Girls like dolls, just as boys love cricket bats.
Khyati has many dolls. Candy is one favorite. I am supposed to be Candy’s father as she is Khyati’s sister. So, if I push Candy away Khyati reminds me, ``you are her father, she is your daughter.’’
Khyati loves to skate. We have found a stretch of road in Gurgaon that is smooth and isolated, where I take her sometimes. I watch and walk while Khyati skates. I also have to hold Candy as Khyati wants her to be part of the fun.
As instructed, I have to hold Candy with her face against my chest and other arm around her back so that people are not able to make out that she is a doll. Somehow, Khyati does not want people to know about the real Candy. It probably embarrasses her.
Khyati keeps an eye from a distance, sometimes looking back while skating and waves to me in case I am not holding Candy the way she wants me to.
Candy is about three feet tall, head to toe, a bit big for a doll. She wears Khyati’s old shoes that dangle and beat against my body when I carry her. Khyati also dresses Candy with clothes that don’t fit her any more.
All of this is very well, except that on-road Candy draws many stares from people and passersby who wonder why I am clutching the doll the way I do.
An elderly gentleman stopped by and said that when he saw me from a distance, he was worried that I was not holding the ``baby’’ right. Later, he realized it was a doll.
I have told Khyati several times that we should leave Candy in the car.
She says that is impossible as Candy would cry all alone scared. I have told her that we could leave her sitting on the car dicky, watching her skate. She has a point that would be too dangerous and someone (other kids) might steal Candy.
Last week, I finally found a way out of my uncomfortable public situation.
I told Khyati that Candy has gone off to sleep in my lap so we should make her lie down on the back seat of the car so that she is comfortable. I lock the car so nobody can take her away.
This has worked.
I don’t have to carry Candy around, though Khyati intermittently checks to she whether her ``sister’’ has woken up. I say that she is fast asleep and we should not disturb her.
Khyati has many dolls. Candy is one favorite. I am supposed to be Candy’s father as she is Khyati’s sister. So, if I push Candy away Khyati reminds me, ``you are her father, she is your daughter.’’
Khyati loves to skate. We have found a stretch of road in Gurgaon that is smooth and isolated, where I take her sometimes. I watch and walk while Khyati skates. I also have to hold Candy as Khyati wants her to be part of the fun.
As instructed, I have to hold Candy with her face against my chest and other arm around her back so that people are not able to make out that she is a doll. Somehow, Khyati does not want people to know about the real Candy. It probably embarrasses her.
Khyati keeps an eye from a distance, sometimes looking back while skating and waves to me in case I am not holding Candy the way she wants me to.
Candy is about three feet tall, head to toe, a bit big for a doll. She wears Khyati’s old shoes that dangle and beat against my body when I carry her. Khyati also dresses Candy with clothes that don’t fit her any more.
All of this is very well, except that on-road Candy draws many stares from people and passersby who wonder why I am clutching the doll the way I do.
An elderly gentleman stopped by and said that when he saw me from a distance, he was worried that I was not holding the ``baby’’ right. Later, he realized it was a doll.
I have told Khyati several times that we should leave Candy in the car.
She says that is impossible as Candy would cry all alone scared. I have told her that we could leave her sitting on the car dicky, watching her skate. She has a point that would be too dangerous and someone (other kids) might steal Candy.
Last week, I finally found a way out of my uncomfortable public situation.
I told Khyati that Candy has gone off to sleep in my lap so we should make her lie down on the back seat of the car so that she is comfortable. I lock the car so nobody can take her away.
This has worked.
I don’t have to carry Candy around, though Khyati intermittently checks to she whether her ``sister’’ has woken up. I say that she is fast asleep and we should not disturb her.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Potty and Junk Food (January 31, 2010)
This sequence goes something like this.
Once, sometimes twice a week, from school I allow Khyati to binge a bit on junk food at a local super mart --- it is usually a cola or a packet of chips.
Off late, I have been running into a bit of an issue here.
Her argument is that I let her binge more on the condition that next week she would forego the high calorie, low nutrition intake, which I know will never happen.
The next week would never come and be turned into a supposed sacrifice for the following week.
So, it has not been the best of times traveling back from school arguing about eating out. Of course, when I don’t give in she snaps: ``I will never talk to you again.’’ ``I will never give you a kiss again.’’ ``I will never share chips with you again; not even a single piece.’’ She knows that I have a weakness for any food.
Anyway, I have finally managed to come up with an explanation, though it does not sound very appetizing. I told her that eating junk food is like going for potty --- one can’t do lots of it one day and not do it again for the next few days.
Similarly, one cannot eat lots of junk food in one go and then forgo it for many days. It is better to eat in bits over time as the urge to taste junk food will re-surface after a gap, just as potty does.
For now, the explanation has worked…our junk food arguments are over, though I have a feeling she may now say that ``since potty is everyday, why not junk food.’’
She has not, until now.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Car Phone November 15, 2009
It has been a while since I wrote this blog...Khyati has of course grown a bit...one change is in the car after I pick her up from school...she grabs the cellphone to speak to many friends similarly placed...Heading back home in their mode of transport, school bus or personal cars...Sometimes she speaks softly and I hear her say: ``I dont want my father to hear this....''
Friday, March 13, 2009
Phone Calling, March 13, 2009
Mother, girlfriends, wife and now daughter...
In hindsight, it was the easiest to handle calls from my mom as she simply believed all I said (or so I used to think) and never asked too many questions.
This made it difficult to lie though I often did.
After all, how could I tell her that I was too drunk to come home and had to spend the night at a friend’s.
A better way to escape the situation was to speak about joint night study.
Girlfriends, of course, one had to lie, especially when routines involving other girlfriends were concerned.
Over time, one has to handle the situation with the wife as well. For example a visit to the pub could be a client meeting or extra time at golf business development.
However, with Khyati things can be very tricky. What I do today will definitely be an example followed and practiced by her when she grows up.
For example, I have a problem about sticking to time…I lose track of it, especially when fun and frolic is involved.
Off late, Khyati calls to find out what time I am going to be home as there are some general knowledge games she has learnt that requires a quorum of people over the dining table.
``Sid,’’ she says over the phone, sounding sometimes like my wife. ``Just be home for dinner today, okay.’’
Thoughts cross my mind that a few years from now it is definitely going to be me who will be calling her to find out what time she is going to be back, given hectic social routines of teenagers.
There is immense pressure on me now to do as I say. Parenting is a tough job. It teaches you to stick to time, for one.
The other day I told her while driving that I was going for a movie for grown ups with some colleagues.
``Stop the car, turn it around and come home right now as I want you to be home for dinner,’’ she said.
I m struggling.
In hindsight, it was the easiest to handle calls from my mom as she simply believed all I said (or so I used to think) and never asked too many questions.
This made it difficult to lie though I often did.
After all, how could I tell her that I was too drunk to come home and had to spend the night at a friend’s.
A better way to escape the situation was to speak about joint night study.
Girlfriends, of course, one had to lie, especially when routines involving other girlfriends were concerned.
Over time, one has to handle the situation with the wife as well. For example a visit to the pub could be a client meeting or extra time at golf business development.
However, with Khyati things can be very tricky. What I do today will definitely be an example followed and practiced by her when she grows up.
For example, I have a problem about sticking to time…I lose track of it, especially when fun and frolic is involved.
Off late, Khyati calls to find out what time I am going to be home as there are some general knowledge games she has learnt that requires a quorum of people over the dining table.
``Sid,’’ she says over the phone, sounding sometimes like my wife. ``Just be home for dinner today, okay.’’
Thoughts cross my mind that a few years from now it is definitely going to be me who will be calling her to find out what time she is going to be back, given hectic social routines of teenagers.
There is immense pressure on me now to do as I say. Parenting is a tough job. It teaches you to stick to time, for one.
The other day I told her while driving that I was going for a movie for grown ups with some colleagues.
``Stop the car, turn it around and come home right now as I want you to be home for dinner,’’ she said.
I m struggling.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Technology and Kids, March 5, 2009
Kids growing up today are exposed to gadgets that did not exist during my time.
At seven Khyati is comfortable in handling the cell phone, dialing, taking a call, reading missed and received calls. She has a thing for cellular multi-media games nowadays.
She has learnt computer commands, including keying in passwords and can operate the paint brush which I cannot.
She logs onto Google on her own, downloads and plays Barbie and Power Angel games online during holidays, mute the sound when her time is over and has begun to use search words to read material.
What is a bit of concern for me, however, is the smut that is so easily accessible on the Internet. The transition from hearing about the word ``sex’’ and knowing about it visually is very minimal.
This is when I and my wife continue to stick to the story of fairies delivering Khyati to us.
During my time it was never so easy to access sleaze, available at local video parlors --- one had to be a bit of a grown up (late teens I would say) to walk up to the guy at the counter and wink or point at the smutty stuff and pay for it.
The video cassette (including copies) had to be suitably camouflaged (among books for instance), smuggled into the house and hidden away so that parents, including very snoopy and suspicious mothers did not find them.
Most adult shows were then group events involving several friends in the neighborhood as word usually got round quickly about any household where parents happened to be out for a late night party or work.
Today a kid could easily surf a porn site, just one search word or URL away, within the confines of a muted laptop, even if the household is teeming with people.
This is not a very palatable situation and I cannot think of any preventive solution that can be effective.
Suggestions???
At seven Khyati is comfortable in handling the cell phone, dialing, taking a call, reading missed and received calls. She has a thing for cellular multi-media games nowadays.
She has learnt computer commands, including keying in passwords and can operate the paint brush which I cannot.
She logs onto Google on her own, downloads and plays Barbie and Power Angel games online during holidays, mute the sound when her time is over and has begun to use search words to read material.
What is a bit of concern for me, however, is the smut that is so easily accessible on the Internet. The transition from hearing about the word ``sex’’ and knowing about it visually is very minimal.
This is when I and my wife continue to stick to the story of fairies delivering Khyati to us.
During my time it was never so easy to access sleaze, available at local video parlors --- one had to be a bit of a grown up (late teens I would say) to walk up to the guy at the counter and wink or point at the smutty stuff and pay for it.
The video cassette (including copies) had to be suitably camouflaged (among books for instance), smuggled into the house and hidden away so that parents, including very snoopy and suspicious mothers did not find them.
Most adult shows were then group events involving several friends in the neighborhood as word usually got round quickly about any household where parents happened to be out for a late night party or work.
Today a kid could easily surf a porn site, just one search word or URL away, within the confines of a muted laptop, even if the household is teeming with people.
This is not a very palatable situation and I cannot think of any preventive solution that can be effective.
Suggestions???
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