THE WORLD IS SO WILD, BUT YOU’VE BUILT YOUR OWN PARADISE
Some of you may be aware that this entire month of April I have been caught up with a writing challenge. For those who aren’t, I’ll just give a heads up that I have been writing and uploading a story almost every day this month around my chosen topic of partition. The reason I chose this particular topic was because I was trying to answer a question, that I often ask myself, ‘Where do I belong to?’ Since my grandparents came to India after partition, this was a natural choice.
As we grow older, most of us are confronted with questions of existentiality. And as my husband and I bring up our daughter away from our country, I find myself wondering often, whether she too will be asking such questions to herself when she’s old enough.
This thought is further intensified by the fact that I feel our upbringing is slightly ‘unconventional’. I say that for various reasons. One because ours being an inter-regional marriage, we are overtly conscious. We don’t want to sway her, either way. The fact that both of us are not very ritualistic adds to her ignorance. And above all, though both of us have strong belief in God, neither talks religion to her. There is a reason why we are choosing not to.
Both of us concurred early on that to make a marriage work, instead of highlighting our differences (tumhaari and hamaari taraf/ yours or our sides) we should be celebrating our similarities. And that became second nature for us by the time our little one arrived. The reason we don’t discuss religion is because it tends to create a very narrow point of view and often alienates us from others. So, while God and conscience are big in our household, the concept of religion is rather undermined.
Having said that, coming to my initial concern about ‘belonging’, my daughter’s casual remarks helped quell my worry a bit. When we came back home after a vacation, her first comment was, “I am so happy to be ‘home’!” and promptly went around to check on her stuff. She wanted to sit in her favourite chair and watch her favourite shows with me. And then after a while she was quite OK with the fact that all three of us were sitting in our corners engrossed in books.
The tranquil scene flashed a thought in my mind that we may not be ritualistic but we have made our own rituals. And the kid revels in them, falls back on them to reclaim her world. Children love a bit of routine and are in fact quite amenable too a wee bit of discipline and structure. It tethers them, anchors them when they move into the real world. The uncertainties of the world must baffle them so coming back to familiarity must be a welcoming thought.
Now I am consciously trying to build and reinforce some rituals so she has those memories to fall back on. Like trying a new flavor of the ice cream (straight from the tub, mind you!) and passing a verdict on it while watching her favourite ‘Anne with an E’. Or reading a book together which I haven’t done in a while but intend to. Or making impromptu pao bhaji and pani puri that she so loves. Or may be singing our favorite songs together or listening to them.
While I do this, I imagine that some day when my girl is all grown up and out there, may be a sight, a smell or a word would evoke memories of these times and she’ll know she’s home.
PS: I am sure you all have those little rituals with your kids. I’d love to hear about them.
The title has been culled from one of my daughter’s favourite song that her father would sing to her as a baby and sometimes still does, ‘The sleeping child’ (MLTR).
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