We had guests over, passing through on their way to
Rishikesh. They had two kids, absolute pains. I was put in charge of
entertaining the kids. I have a brother who is presently in 7th standard. I
have forgotten what it means to entertain kids. These days you have a hard time
telling them bedtime stories. So I went with the Hansel & Gretel story and
how they found this gingerbread house made of sweets in the forest.
What forest, conifer or deciduous?
You want the story or not.
I want a story, but what’s with this gingerbread stuff.
Couldn't they use timber?
Today’s kids have no imagination; they can’t let it fly.
Tell them about Rapunzel letting down her hair so the prince could climb up the
tresses and you get sums about torque and weight and if the prince was over
48.5 kg he would have pulled her over and hair cannot take more weight than
that much per square inch.
Listen kid, that’s the way it is.
I told the child about Snow White and the seven dwarfs and
she said, horizontally deprived men, get it politically correct. How would it
sound if we wrote, and off they went to work, the seven horizontally deprived
men singing, hey ho, hey ho, off to work we go.
Remember Jack & the beanstalk and how we lay awake at
night after hearing the story, waiting for the giant to roar. You tell that
story to today’s kids and they tell you the beanstalk is all rubbish, beans
don’t grow that high, show me one stalk that goes that high, huh, come on, show
me.
It was a magic beanstalk.
Mom, she’s bluffing again.
What do you expect? They watch Addams family for fun,
Frankenstein for relaxation, horror and terror over a sandwich. They gambol in
Jurassic Park, they enjoy screaming. They see 4000 T.V murders, 3000 shootings
and knifing, when they are still in school. And you tell them about wolves that
go huff and puff and try to blow houses down. Not enough muzzle velocity there.
Try the Little Red Riding Hood yarn on a modern child. Get
to the part where the wolf gobbles her up. You see this curl of the lip as the
child tries to absorb the drivel you are flinging at him. Then you say, the
woodcutter came and rescued the Little Red Riding Hood.
From his stomach? Yes. Like a caesarian? Sort of, kid.
Let me get this straight. The wolf swallowed her whole,
right, in one big gulp. Yes, kid.
Just like that, huh? Go to sleep, kid.
Remember our time. We believed in Goldilocks and the three
bears and Cinderella’s pumpkin turning into a coach. Try telling Junior that
one, specially the bit about the mice swinging into six white coach men. You
will get this lengthy diatribe on DNA and how it would never work.
# a special reference to a friend who had a tough time taking care of
her 4 and the half year old little sister while their parents were away. She chose to be anonymous...Nevertheless, i salute her (y) _/\_
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