Partly Yours, Partly Lost

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Some places stay with you long after life has moved elsewhere. There is something strange about destiny. You just cannot overcome it, but at the same time, you cannot simply do nothing because something is destined to happen. In India, it is not uncommon to have your horoscope charted about a year after birth. Grandparents wait with bated breath to hear how well the stars were aligned, and what remedies might be needed to appease the Gods. So when I was a year old, my grandmother took my birth date and time to Dharmaraja Ghanapadigal, one of the most revered astrologers in Pudukkottai. He apparently told her that I would do reasonably well in studies, travel to multiple countries, and eventually live abroad. Here was an old lady asking about her grandson from a small town. My parents were then living in Gobichettipalayam. This was the eighties, long before economic reforms had changed the country. My grandmother thanked him politely, but quietly wondere...

Storytelling time

The long day was winding down towards the usual predictable close.  It was 9PM.  My wife and I sat back to watch the first of many episodes of a chosen series for the evening.  Soon, it was midnight.  We were contemplating whether to watch one more or hit the bed.  We eventually ended up watching two more and went to bed.  It was 2 AM.  We got up late the next morning, went to work at a relaxed pace and got back from work late.  Nothing felt out of sorts.

Fast forward life by a couple of years.  The long day was winding down towards the usual predictable close.  My wife and I were scrambling to put the kids to sleep.  It was already 8PM.  The whole bed time routine is pretty mind-boggling.  Akhil would brush his teeth, which means I'd have to brush my teeth as well.  Even before he gets to the sink, he would say, "Appa, Brusss".  I would do the mandatory correction.  "Akhil, it's not brusss, it's brushhhhh."  He would let out an exaggerated, "Brusssssssss".  I'd nod, with tiredness oozing out from every cm of my body.

"Appa, read books", he'd say.  Some days are great, where both of us would lap up about three or four books in the next half hour to 45 minutes.  Some days, he'd have absolutely no concentration in what I am reading out.  He would be all over the place.  There is a book about this boy named David; he's a prankster kid who gets into all sorts of daily troubles.  Akhil would enjoy his travails.  "Appa, David pulling doggy tail.  Doggy sad".  Suddenly, he'd hear a dog bark in the neighborhood and he'd go, "Appa, Akhil scared of doggy." After a few more of such interactions, I'd say, "Akhil, it's time to sleep.  Appa will tell some stories and you can go to bed."  Some days, he'd listen to the stories from me and other days, he'd want his mother.  "I want Amma coming", he'd say and when that happens even if the heavens fall, he has to have his mom.

Anyway, whoever it is for the night, we'd go on a storytelling spree.

"Appa, I want spiderman story."

"There was this spiderman.  He would do Tsk Tsk, and weave a web from his hand to a building.  He would then jump to the building, and rescue the good boys from the bad boys."

I would wait to see if he could comprehend and converse with me.

"Appa, I want green spiderman story."

Of all the things in the story, I would wonder how the color piqued his interest.

"What?", I'd ask.

"I want green spiderman story", he'd grin sheepishly.

I would repeat the entire story and just replace spiderman with green spiderman.

Now, what?, I'd ask.

"I want blue spiderman story."

Thus, it would go on back and forth until he covered the whole spectrum of visible light.

At this point, I don't know about him, but my eyes would be drooping.  He'd be behaving like as though the first ray of sun just fell on his eyes.

He has a fascination for machines.  He'd want to know about the washer and dryer.  We would make up some story regarding the machines.

And then, the dreaded response, "Appa, I want green dryer story."

The cycle continues with every story.

The whole bed time routine brings to mind what Jerry Seinfeld said about parenting.  My wife and I laugh mindlessly at this brilliant summary.

The bedtime routine for my kids is like this Royal Coronation Jubilee Centennial of rinsing and plaque and dental appliances and the stuffed animal semi-circle of emotional support. And I’ve gotta read eight different moron books. You know what my bedtime story was when I was a kid? Darkness!

After all the stories, he'd want a couple of songs and then he'd say the words that I would be waiting for a long time, "Appa, I want to go to sleep."

Comments

  1. Ha Ha Praveen, this one's funny. I never thought of a Spiderman who dons multiple colors. Goes to show how vivid their imaginations are. Seinfield knows everything, doesn't he?

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    Replies
    1. Seinfeld has always been a genius :-)

      Not only spiderman, every one and every thing comes in different colors.

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