Childhood was pretty much protected and sanitized. I was brought up supervised and chaperoned like a girl. My mother, off work hours and intermittent to examining patients would keep an eye on what my brother and I did. But at the same time, I was allowed freedom to grow. It was a delicate balance that my parents would achieve.
Of course, like any child would, it was normal for me to detest the third eye following me at all times. More so because, most of my friends came from creolized families where the traditional mores were somewhat diluted to levels of practicality and convenience and that what was western was sometimes quite desirable.
One occasion that I do recall, when I was in class IX, my class organized a trip to a movie. It was IKT ( Insaaf ka Tarazoo). I was not allowed to go. My mother believed the theme was stupid and scenes vulgar. Though, she had not seen it herself. Then another movie was planned. This time it was a largely innocuous family movie of Amol Palekar. I was again denied permission to go with my class, as watching too many movies was not indicative of good upbringing.
In those years, spending time with class mates out of school in party clothes was too much of a charm to stay away from. The dejection from the denial was perhaps too much for me to hide and out of sheer pity, I was allowed to join my class. But there was a caveat - I would be accompanied by my grandparents – the third eye and of course my younger brother, who like an appendage accompanied me to all my outings. I was happy about my brother and never grudged it. But the grandparents stuff was very embarrassing.
Trust me, if you would ask me today, my grandfather, an educationist, bureaucrat, and man of great erudition is one who I admire most in my family. But, that is today. Then, I was if not ashamed, at least very apologetic about my grandfather. His usual attire when he stepped out, was a black achkan (Indian tunic) and a churidar, and Gandhi cap. He drove a car as grand as him – a 30 year old Landmaster, the previous avatar of the ambassador. So this outing was no exception and he donned his achakan, churidar and Gandhi cap and with my grandmother in tow, the family strutted to watch the movie with the class. Of course, his attire got him special treatment, which he was quite used to and always expected.
But what mattered at that age was, what your friends think about you and particularly what the girls thought about you. And they did not find this normal. Particularly, when I was not a diminutive, under-confident and meek fellow shying away from facing the world.
But now when I am parent, I behave the same with my two sons, both bold and confident. Athletic. The only saving grace is that I did not force my wife to sit in the hall with them but park herself in the café outside the theatre for 3 hours while they watched a movie. Life revisits you in many ways.
Of course, like any child would, it was normal for me to detest the third eye following me at all times. More so because, most of my friends came from creolized families where the traditional mores were somewhat diluted to levels of practicality and convenience and that what was western was sometimes quite desirable.
One occasion that I do recall, when I was in class IX, my class organized a trip to a movie. It was IKT ( Insaaf ka Tarazoo). I was not allowed to go. My mother believed the theme was stupid and scenes vulgar. Though, she had not seen it herself. Then another movie was planned. This time it was a largely innocuous family movie of Amol Palekar. I was again denied permission to go with my class, as watching too many movies was not indicative of good upbringing.
In those years, spending time with class mates out of school in party clothes was too much of a charm to stay away from. The dejection from the denial was perhaps too much for me to hide and out of sheer pity, I was allowed to join my class. But there was a caveat - I would be accompanied by my grandparents – the third eye and of course my younger brother, who like an appendage accompanied me to all my outings. I was happy about my brother and never grudged it. But the grandparents stuff was very embarrassing.
Trust me, if you would ask me today, my grandfather, an educationist, bureaucrat, and man of great erudition is one who I admire most in my family. But, that is today. Then, I was if not ashamed, at least very apologetic about my grandfather. His usual attire when he stepped out, was a black achkan (Indian tunic) and a churidar, and Gandhi cap. He drove a car as grand as him – a 30 year old Landmaster, the previous avatar of the ambassador. So this outing was no exception and he donned his achakan, churidar and Gandhi cap and with my grandmother in tow, the family strutted to watch the movie with the class. Of course, his attire got him special treatment, which he was quite used to and always expected.
But what mattered at that age was, what your friends think about you and particularly what the girls thought about you. And they did not find this normal. Particularly, when I was not a diminutive, under-confident and meek fellow shying away from facing the world.
But now when I am parent, I behave the same with my two sons, both bold and confident. Athletic. The only saving grace is that I did not force my wife to sit in the hall with them but park herself in the café outside the theatre for 3 hours while they watched a movie. Life revisits you in many ways.
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