Peer Pressure of Different Kind

PEER PRESSURE OF A DIFFERENT KIND
("There are many ways to measure success; not the least of which is the way your child describes you when talking to a friend.")
----------Unknown)

Prologue

There is no greater innocence on the face of this planet than children. Likewise, there is nothing more marvelous that one can do than affirm the innocence of children. And if there is one striking difference between the present and a generation or so ago, it is that affirming the innocence of children is what everyone a generation or so ago delighted in doing. Adults delighted in the endeavors of children, and were eager to affirm those small creative endeavors of children. If my child drew a picture of a flower or a president or a crow, that picture could be shown to any adult, who then paused to show their appreciation and admiration of the child’s artwork. It is a striking thing about children that a little affirmation goes a very long way. It was not a long ago—indeed, it was so even during my childhood —that children benefited not only from the love of their parents, but also from the public trust. The story which I wish to relate concerns just this aspect (viz. in italics above).

Cut to 5 years back: to the daily morning scenes in front of our house just prior to the assembly at the Primary School opposite

If you could have predicted even once what (now late) Pallipuram Ramasastrigal Venkiteswaran Iyer (whose strong legs walked this earth for 94 years) would do under a given circumstance, you might either be a great astrologer like 'Padur Panickers' or a great dooradarsin/Antarjhnaanin. Simply put.. Iyer was unpredictable like our share market!!. But then he thrived on this very quality (for my friends and I with all our theoretical knowledge of problem- solving, thanks to our superficially acquired management qualifications) haven't been able to emulate even an amsam of Iyer's practical wisdom.

"Children today live in a different era. It is an era of lost innocence. On the one hand, children have been told not to trust any adult who is a stranger. This is understandable, of course, as parents protect their children from harm. But there is a fundamental loss that occurs, in that children no longer enjoy public affirmation in the way that they did once upon a time. No adult wants to smile at a child or compliment the child, lest this be taken as an untoward advance by the child’s parents. The irony here, though, is that just as nothing replaces the affirmation of parental love, it is equally true that nothing replaces the affirmation that comes from the public trust." lamented Iyer one day.

Arun Bhatt (the hero of our story) was all of 4 years, impish but smart; seemed happy to go to school (UKG class??) until......this scene on one wintry Marghazhi Monday. Iyer was plucking flowers from our garden for his daily pooja a ritual he meticulously followed and never delegated to any one. As an added attraction, he got to watch all the tamasha that went on…. wailing kids….angry parents…..cajoling grandpas ......servants on cycle…..kids alone with lost looks ……....ayahs on foot dragging the reluctant kids ...et all till the gong went off at school. Total silence prevails thereafter and suddenly a chorus of ‘out of tune’ prayers follow ....what could best be described as cacophony.

For the past 3 days though Arun would have nothing of that. He simply refused to go to school. His mom a sweet looking helpless lady of 30 odd was getting tired. She had to resort to the use of the last weapon in her armory of 4.. saama, daana, beda, danda. That's when Iyer decided to intervene.
"enriii? Enaakithu ammaa?' Iyer to the lady Sumati Bhatt.
"Nothing uncle. Raising a child has become exhausting and exasperating, “she replied. Arun decided to oblige his mom that day and went quietly inside the school premises. The
lady and Iyer got talking... sort of walk the talk...
"Yeah. But parenthood has been the most gratifying experience of my life. For the busiest of us...the most remote of us...for the most disgraced of us, parenthood is the essence of life. It will remind you of the treasure of the little children in our midst.” Iyer reminded Sumathi.
"True, Thaatha! But this boy of mine...............what to say?.............."was all I could hear of Sumathi because they went out of range. Another 15 minutes would have been spent in further discussions; Iyer and Sumathi parted company. I never gave the incident another thought.
Next day, at 07.55 A M we saw a strange sight. Iyer was carrying Arun's bag, water bottle and tiffin box, escorting the child to the school. The old man waved to the child and said, "tata". Arun happily went inside the school. No sign of Arun's mother though that day.
A few minutes later when Sumathi met my wife at our gate bargaining with the vegetable vendor, their dialogue went something like this:
"Iyer Thatha: he is an amazing old man.", Sumathi cooed happily. "You know Arun did not make any fuss today. He went off to school happily", she said.
"Yea... I saw that.. What was it all about? How this sudden transformation?" my wife asked inquisitively putting some beans on the scale because the vendor was getting impatient.
".........You see aunty, Arun was becoming impossible and has been complaining for the past 2 weeks or so" Sumathi started.
"What about?" my wife asked.
"Peer pressure......Some of his very close friends were teasing him.......saying they all had their wonderful grandpas or grandmas to escort them. They had grey hair, some carried even walking-sticks, held their bags with fondness....gave them éclairs. And Arun didn't have a grandpa here. He said unless I arrange one grandpa he may not go to school as he would not like to get taunted any more. Now tell me aunty, where could I go for a grandpa or how do I meet his strange demand?" Sumathi took a long breath and continued. "And surprise of surprises, Iyer was at our door steps this morning volunteering to escort Arun. My husband was in tears and I just managed to hold myself. That's it"

So we knew now where Iyer had disappeared early in the morning. But the next day's experience for Iyer was even stranger as related by him later to us.
Revealed Iyer, "At the gate, Arun gave me an éclair chocolate. Then he said, 'Thatha! This is because you may not be carrying one. Now you give me back the same like other thathas do'”. That morning Arun asked Iyer to stay longer in front of the school, saying "Thatha let all my friends see you. Meena and Rahul are yet to come. Hold on. Let them see that I too have a thatha who is escorting me and gives chocolates."

Mercifully, those two days were enough for Arun to show his friends that he too had a grey haired Thaatha who escorted him, wielded a stick and fondly carried his bag. Iyer and Arun became thick as thieves.

EPILOGUE

“Clearly, children have the ability to reach deep into our brains as well as our hearts." said iyer later. "As your child gets older, he'll start keeping more of his emotions hidden, partly because of peer pressure and partly because the toddler method of expressing every passing feeling can be exhausting.' Iyer laughed.
"Some kids are very confiding and will tell you everything, while others are by nature more likely to keep things inside. But as long as you're there when he needs you and are ready to listen, love will still flow in two directions. So Arun and I are friends", Iyer laughed again.
Their friendship continued for over 2 years. But a few days before Iyer's death Arun then 6 years old and in 2nd class was chatting with Iyer.
"Thaatha, how long do you want to live?" Iyer told him, "well I think I want to live to see you graduate from high school." The boy licked on his cream-cookie and seemed pensive for a few minutes. He asked Iyer how old he was now. Iyer responded, "I am 94." He looked at him and offered him the other half of the cookie. Then he said very astutely, "That means you have to live to be at least 103 years old; I think you really should wait until I finish with college. Maybe by that time someone will figure out how people can live forever." Yes, that came out of the mouth of a child. He continued to lick the cream and share the cookies with Iyer. Tears filled Iyer's eyes. A week later Iyer breathed his last.
"I just became a grandmother six months ago. I am looking forward to a conversation (with my grandchild) like that one you overheard" said Ambujam mami our neighbour with moist eyes when I related to her this incident.
How do I know so much about Iyer?
No marks for guessing. You are right. Iyer was my father. Now I wonder whether Arun Bhatt was the hero of the story after all or…..??

(There may be some doubt as to who are the best people to have charge of children, but there can be no doubt that parents are the worst.)
---------------George Bernard Shaw)
Warm rgds
V V R
22 Dec 007