My Journey with Children

My eldest niece Debolina turns seventeen today.

I was in the fourth grade in primary school when Debolina was born. By that time, I had been an elder brother thrice. However, the thought of becoming an uncle at the age of eight never crossed my mind. Her mother – my eldest cousin – gave birth to her at the hospital where my mother used to work as a nurse. I desired to be with my mother, cousin and brother-in-law as we were going to bring her home from the hospital. My desire was fulfilled. I was ecstatic during the entire journey. Perhaps very few experiences in life can be as exciting as bringing a newborn home.

Debolina spent the first few months of her life with us at her maternal grandfather’s place. I used to observe her as much as I could. Why she needed to sleep twenty hours a day, when I could place her on my lap, whether she could recognize all of us around, when she would start talking – were some of the questions I used to ponder over. To this curiosity, an incident added something special for the first time.

Debolina was two or three months old when her mother fell severely ill one night. The doctor said that the baby must not be breastfed, for she too would fall ill. Though not recommended before the age of six months, she had to be given baby food that night. It was past 10 o’clock; all the shops in our locality were closed. My father and one of our close neighbors went out to see if they could manage to get something. Famished, the baby was crying louder and louder. Everyone at home was counting moments of anxiety. I had never felt that helpless before. Fortunately, a medical store a little far from home was still open. It saved us any further pain. I generally find it hard to express my emotions freely, but when the baby food arrived home that night, I jumped and screamed in joy. It was spontaneous. I felt a strong bond with my little niece. Deep inside occurred a realization that I too can do my bit for her to grow as a happy and healthy child.

This was the beginning of a journey that continues with full fervor to this day. I thank God for giving me the opportunity to share my family life with a total of ten nephews and nieces – members of my next generation. Depending on what should serve them the best, my role switches: from a playmate to a teacher, from a listener to a mentor, from a guardian to a friend. I try to give them my undivided attention. In return, they gladly give me theirs. As a result, I get a glimpse of how they perceive and communicate with the world, as well as how the perception and communication evolve with time. To an adult, interaction with children on a regular basis is one of the most enriching lessons life can offer. Let me share with you some stories from my life.

Until my niece Suparna started going to school, she found it hard to open up to the family members whom she did not get to see all the time. This set of family members included me as well. Shortly after she had been admitted to school, she once visited our home with her parents. I was surprised to see her smiling at me, trying to get close to me and pulling my leg whenever she could get a chance. She told others later that she liked my not getting impatient. After lunch, her mother put her to sleep while her father left. As she woke up, she started crying, “Where’s dad? Where’s dad?” I intuitively knew that I should not say, “Dad’s gone”. What should I tell her then? Her mother – my cousin – said, “It’s okay; walk her up the stairs.” I did so, and started introducing her to the trees nearby. She calmed down, and started telling me about the trees she had seen earlier. It was the beginning of a different chapter for us.

My nieces Sohini and Sinjini live two bus-stops away from our home. During my IIT days, I used to visit them every time I went home. “Kutti-mama (young uncle) is here!” would be their loud response as the door would open. The three of us would then have a wholehearted chatter and laughter, followed by wild dance moves to each and every ringtone of my cellphone – till we would get sweat-drenched and run out of breath. Despite being terrible at dance, I would participate, thinking of the smile of fulfillment it would bring on their faces. They would then beg of me to stay back for a little more time. After my departure, they would invariably ask their mother when I would see them the next time. I would go back to drown myself in the pure and innocent charm of “Kutti-mama’s here!” The cycle continued till I came abroad. I miss those lovely moments today.

My seven-year old nephew Priyam is now in the first grade. He likes playing with toy cars and watching trains pass. Two years ago, he came to see me with his mother before I left for the US. When it was time for their return, he started crying piteously. He did not stop until I showed him some YouTube videos of trains that he had liked the previous night. I learnt that he really loves vehicles. Now, speaking on the phone the other day, he said, “Do you know what a black box is?”

I could think of two closely related ideas. One is a general modeling technique in Control Theory. The other is a specific application of the technique, used for recording flight data in aircraft. Given his interest in vehicles, it may be the second one, but is it not too advanced for a first grader? I said, “Well, first tell me what you know; I can then take over.”

He gave me in very clear words the definition that applies to an aircraft. “How did you know it?” I asked, astonished.  

“I saw it on the Discovery channel”, he said. I learnt later that he notes down in a journal all that sound interesting to him, so that he can tell me on the phone. After we spoke a little more, I asked, “What'll you do when you grow up?”

“A few things. I'll become an engineer of cars. I'll build shelter for the poor and donate them lots of money. And… and… one more thing… I'll be a teacher.”

I thank him for a good sleep that night!

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Readers, today I have told you a few – only a few – of the many stories that involve the children of my family. I regard these stories very close to my heart. They have played a big role in making me the person I am today. “Children are the most beautiful flowers of all”, realized a fictional giant who once had selfishly denied children entry to his garden. In children, I see, above everything else, elements of inspiration. When we treat them with love, respect and care, we automatically make ourselves better human beings. To me, loving means to accept them for what they are – including what they are good at and what they are not so good at. Respecting means to make an attempt to view things from their perspective and not force ours on them. Caring means not only to make sure that their needs are met, but also to work on self-improvement as adults, so that children can look up to and learn from us. Once we expand the notion of family, we have a society. Expand the horizon a little more, and we have a country. Go a little further, and we have an entire generation across the globe trying to follow our footsteps. Let us watch ourselves in action, for an entire generation is watching!