"Maaro Beto Champion" ( Mis-parenting, the 'desi' way !) :)

It was a warm April afternoon many years back (the first day of my Higher Secondary Board examinations)

 Some of the worst brats of the school (me included) were huddled inside the washroom of a village high school (where our seats had been assigned). We were furiously catching up with the last few drags of our cigarettes before surrendering to the imprisonment of the examination hall for the next three hours. I think the impending “smokelessness” during the paper was our biggest cause of concern at that hour . However, we made for about only 3% of the total student population. The remaining 97% had bigger concerns. They stood ( almost in tears) under the sun, waiting anxiously for the hall to open. We kept smoking hard and giggling at them. It was really a hilarious sight. About 150 students (average age - 18), each being pampered like a 3 year old on his / her first day at school, by the even more anxious parents. Some parents stood fanning their kids, trying to protect them from the evil sun (“ghaater moraa rod ” - a slang in Bengali , said someone) . Another pair of parents held their “Daaber jol” (green coconut water) for their mustached son to keep his “maathaa thaandaa” (translating crudely into “head cool”). Some parents were nervously engaged in some kind of silent meditation, while others were busy helping their babies revise their lessons for the millionth time. Then there were a handful of parents who kept throwing disdainful glances towards the restroom (which seemed to be on fire, going by the quantity of smoke that we were generating). I also overheard a fat girl’s father telling another guy (who looked somewhat like the yesteryear Bollywood comedian, Paintal) – “ Ei Ayon typer chhele gulo kono din o pass korbe naa !” (These “Ayon types ” would never clear this examination). Feeling a little insulted upon hearing this , I stubbed my cigarette and walked out, right past the gentleman, whistling a tune from “Saajan ” (“Dekhaa hain pehli baar..ta ta ta ta, ta ta ta ta”), much to his disgust , and right into the examination hall.

 To cut a long story short, I didn’t flunk. Rather, if I remember correctly, I scored better than that protective daddy’s fat little girl or that mustached coconut water drinking little boy. But I concluded that Bongs are the most over possessive and interfering parents in the world. Often unnecessarily so (The kids can really do much better without their parents butting their heads into every aspect of their kids’ lives - from their kindergarten nappies to their honeymoon packages) . I thanked my stars that my parents had not dared to accompany me to the exam venue (I had threatened them that I will not sit for my paper if they go – and somehow the threat seemed to have worked). But the others were not so lucky. They had to undergo the ordeal each day, and I suspect (looking at some of the faces) that the presence of their overbearing parents was causing them more stress, than the exam itself.

 Later in life, while working in Calcutta for a year, I used to observe a school near my apartment building every morning. It used to seem like  some kind of riot broke out there daily . Exactly at 7.40 AM, the neighborhood used to get converted into a mini Tahrir square, with thousands of parents materializing from all directions – in motorbikes, cars, rickshaws and taxis. It used to be absolute pandemonium till 8 AM when the school gates used to close. But curiously most of the parents (sometimes grandparents too) didn’t go back home. Rather they would settle down at all kinds of places around the school (footpaths, benches, lawns and even the staircase of our apartment), waiting passively for the school to get over, so that they may pounce on their “babies”, the moment they stepped out of the school gates (lest some “gaari-ghora” hits them ). Every morning I would stare in disbelief at the criminal waste of time by so many grownups, and in the process - making absolute sissies out of their kids.

 Meaning no specific offence towards anybody in particular and realizing that I am grossly stereotyping here , these babies never step out of their parents’ umbrella even when someone among them is (say), doing his post-doctoral research at Boston at the ripe old age of 45 (and with exactly 12 strands of hair left on his bald head). The poor guy would still have to eat his bhaat –aalu sheddo- maachbhaaja ( rice- mashed potatoes-fish)  before leaving for work. Else his 70 year old mum would declare in dismay that some great misfortune would descend upon their home because “ Baapi taa duto bhaat kheye berolo naa !! Ki olokhhi, ki olokhhi !! (Just because Bapi left home without eating a single morsel of fish and rice)

Baapi (otherwise a brilliant scientist), would mumble, fumble and grumble while being force fed by his iron mom (sometimes assisted by his 235 pound heavy wife, Belaa , who would get some last minute shukto for Baapi the soldier, to give him strength to face his Oshobbho Gaarmaan (bullying German) boss ).

 Probably this deep seated apathy for over-parenting has resulted in me growing into such a hands off parent. Sometimes I feel guilty of crossing over to the other extreme. The other day I actually tried to act gruff and attempted to tell my daughter about the “Challenges of Class 8 ”. With an exasperated look, she said curtly , “Papa, I am in Class 9 now ! If you don’t even know that , please don’t try to act so concerned !”.

Phew ! I blamed it on her teenage attitude problems and moved on.

 However a new challenge has descended upon us in recent times. Since the past few weeks I am going to see my daughter off at the bus stop in the morning. And you need to look at the faces of father and daughter to really be at a loss to decide , on who is more embarrassed – the dad or the kid ? Anyway, we go down to the apartment’s basement where the bus arrives. We strictly act as if we don’t know each other. I stand in a corner while she chats with some friends till the bus comes . She boards, and I go back home, glad to have completed my assignment . But this experience has sparked off familiar memories about hovering mother hen  kind of Indian parents (And I mean not just Bongs. Though I feel , Bongs and Punjabis still lead the pack !)

 It’s really amazing to observe the variants of parents who surround the bus to see the kids off. But the parents of 2013 are slightly different from the days when our Bapi went to school. I have observed 8 main variants of Indian parents who can be seen every morning at the bus stop, and much to the discomfort of their kids.

 1.Serial Moms – These are ladies in their 30s and who have just started losing their battle with metabolism. Their primary objective of going to drop their kids, is to discuss the latest scoop from the daily Hindi soaps on TV. They have a familiar pattern. They would come early, spot their counterparts and wave shyly at them. One of them would then  ask in a conspiratory tone – “Kal Aarti ki shaadi dekhi ?”, and that’s all it takes to get the group going ! The kids, the bus and even the poor husband waiting back home for his breakfast, EVERYTHING is forgotten, as these ladies get into a detailed analysis of why Aarti’s marriage is such a shocker and how Varun came in just at the last minute before the episode ended ( “Varun..varun..varun..”, echoed Aarti’s voice, as the credits rolled up unfairly ! ). They just can’t wait for 9 PM when they would 'finally' get to see if Varun manages to  get Aarti back or not (Incidentally this marriage sequence is being aired for the past 9 months and Varun has still not been shown. Only his feet have appeared so far).

 2.Blackberry Pops – They are the suit clad dads, looking dapper and busy, replying to an email from their hand held devices (and their cars parked nearby). They are the cool dads , generally having two teenage sons(dressed in some kind of sports gear) who would be taking turns at checking soccer updates on dad’s iPad. Daddy cool is an impatient man and on most days, drives off and drops his sons to school himself because he is getting late due to the delay by the ‘stupid and unprofessional’ school bus.

 3.Jane and John – They are the equivalents of Jane Fonda and John Rambo from the fraternity of Indian parents. They are workout fanatics and are always dressed in their gym attire when they come to see their kids off . They stand like Madam Tussaud statues, flexing their muscles and jawlines to the perfect angles and tucking their tummies in, much to the annoyance of the serial moms and Kumbhakaran Srinivaasans (see later). They don’t seem to realize it , but they are acute horrors for their kids, who turn a shade of purple with shame and can’t wait for their buses to whisk them off and away from their (mis) Fit  parents !

 4. Indra Nooyis– Are the corporate mums. Normally they look down upon every other woman in that gathering (with a Sushma Seth glance) , since they are now in their self- actualization phase of their careers and need to “give back to the society” and not waste time standing at silly school bus stops. The only reason they come there sometimes is because their maid (or mother in law) has betrayed them by falling ill for a day. They generally fiddle with their blackberries, re-check their lipstick ( about 16 times in 9 minutes) and sometimes throw an occasional scornful look at the serial moms, and an envious look towards the “Jane” moms (“Lucky woman , she gets so much time to work out ! Would have seen what she would have done if she had my kind of hours !”). Sometimes they even exchange a ‘hello ’ with some of the Blackberry pops (and they discuss about the Eurozone problems and Cyprus’s economy, much to the irritation of everyone around, who know that they are showing off ).

 5.Kumbhakaran Srinivaasan– Is from Guntoor, Andhra Pradesh. He is a kindly looking and easy going software engineer, who has to reluctantly get up at 7 am to go and drop his three unruly kids. The only form of exercise that Srini has done in the past 16 years is walk from his main door to the elevator, and vice versa. He would stand yawning at a corner, and occasionally tossing a disturbed look towards John Rambo. Srini is a fan of South Indian Cinema, and his favorite hero is the red eyed Vijay Kaanth, whose belly is even larger than Srini’s own. Hence he can’t stand the sight of vulgar men like John, who show off such flat Abs ( “fulllll eeediott!”, he mumbles under his breath !).

 6. Mr. And Mrs Iyer– An epitome of perfection, this couple stands smiling in all serenity, while their school topper daughter (Saambhavi) stands reading poetry from a book, while waiting for the bus. Everything about the three Iyers is picture perfect, from Mr. Iyer’s “teeka”, to Mrs Iyer’s Kaanjivaram, to Saambhavi’s perfectly tied hair, not to miss a faint aroma of incense sticks arising from the “Iyer corner” (You can almost hear Carnatic music emitting from their bodies) . Saambhavi is a trained classical singer, a topper in all subjects and also the school sports captain. Mrs Iyer wants to send Saambhavi to Princeton, but her dad has an apprehension that her traditional music might get neglected and side tracked due to unnecessary Western influence on their brilliant daughter. (Incidentally, Saambhavi has other ideas. She is secretly planning to elope with her school dropout boyfriend. But her parents can’t even guess this in their wildest nightmares).

 7 . Dilli Belles– Okay, you can go to any corner of this world , but cannot escape a Delhi-mom. She would be the loudest parent in the whole community , generally dressed in pink Adidas slacks, pink Reebok shoes, an oversized red tee shirt (which makes her assume that she looks slim), an expensive Swiss watch and an empty carry bag with a Gucci logo (Just for effect. So that everyone knows that she picks up “stuff” from Gucci every other day. It’s a different story that she pronounces Gucci as Gukki, somewhat like Kukki, her nickname). Her only purpose of going to drop her bachcha (aged 17 years), is to show off everything that she has, to the other bechaara parents. She wouldn’t stop even when her bearded (and deeply ashamed) son Angad has boarded the bus. She would shout out to him “ Pinky beta – apnaa bugger (meaning burger) khaa liyo, aur bus ke window se peep naa kariyo bachha ! Aur haan, apnaa iPhone sambhaalke. Papa ne aur nahin leke deni hain agar aap fir use ghumaa doge !”).

Poor “Pinky” is almost ready to commit suicide by now !

 8. Bapi’s parents –Unfortunately the bongs haven’t made much progress in the past 20 years. The new age Bapi is still accompanied by both his parents, and sometimes also his grandparents and uncles / aunts and other relatives , every morning. He is not allowed to go and stand with those “Non- Bengali chhele meye gulo”. He stands fiercely guarded by his entire entourage while Mamma shoves a half eaten banana into his mouth and papa holds his bag, while grandpa reminds him about the “quadratic equations” that he was taught the night before. The 15 year old Bapi has a glazed look in his eyes and seems to have given in to his destiny, as he finishes his banana and walks towards the bus, holding his parents’ hands (lest “slip kore pore giye paa taa bhenge jaaye !” – meaning, they don’t want Bapi to stumble and break his ankle).

I am generally the first among the parents to leave that place. I try to act like a cross between a Blackberry Pop and John Rambo , dressed in my shorts and Tees, and lost in my phone (no one suspects that I am actually updating my Facebook status). I won’t dare to wave at or talk to my daughter even if I want to, and invite her wrath . Curiously, I am not too concerned about that. If I grew up without my parents acting body 24x7 guards to me , I think she might manage as well . From next week,I plan not to go down for this circus altogether.

 I am sure my daughter will be as glad as me ! Good day !

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( An old Post from my 2013 blog entries) 

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