Kids ... I love to play with kids.

After a long and tiring day, we were deep in the depths of groggy sleep. All the curtains were pulled in place to simulate a clouded wind blow day, with the A/C in full blast. Somewhere in the dark bottomless pit of our gama states we heard the faint tones of our phone ringing. Pushing the cover off and walking out of bed like a zombie out of its grave, my mother went to get the phone.

“Hello… akka?” It was my cousin on the other end, calling in to ask if we were free in the evening to play host. Guess, the thought of another dumb amazingly stupid Sunday evening waning out in front of the TV, watching peanut brained comparers squeal and squelch was good enough for mother to immediately agree to the interesting proposition. [btw … my cousin has a very loving and engagingly extrovert kid.] Mom even suggested that they stay over longer to have dinner with us. And for me … all of that meant a great time out with my nephew, Aneesh.

It was late in the evening that they finally made it to our place. There was a sound of soft thuds somewhere at the bottom of our front door. I hid behind the door as I opened it for him. And in he walked like Columbus taking his first step on the soils of a new land. And like Hobbes I jumped on him, and scooped him off the floor. Pleasantly surprised, he expressed all the due signs of initial shyness and wriggled out of my grasp. It took some amount of endearing cooing and see-this … see-that kind of prodding to break the thin sheet of ice that was waiting to shatter anyway. Then like a little squirrel he scampered onto his pop’s shoulders to pull out his cell phone to show all of us how he could click pictures and download new ringtones all by himself. Believe me … it was a pretty impressive thing to see a lower kinder garden kid do things. And when he had shown us all the pics he had taken I offered to snap a few shots of him. And to all our astonishment … he climbed on to a sofa and posed like Milind Soman on some modeling mag. cover, like all those photo shoot outs. (Not one … but quite a few professional poses)

Kids, every generation are growing increasingly intelligent. Call it the consequence of exposure or what ever, but there it is. Almost every kid knows how to handle cell phones, play computer games and operate the TV, and a whole lot of other gadgets that my granny would have stared with mounting hostility and walked away in a huff. Interestingly, they get more and more inquisitive. They are able to explore things faster and build on their findings all by themselves with out parental or elder guidance. You allow any of my younger nephews to sit at my comp, they would have tried A-Z every option that would have taken me a few devastating comp lab sessions as a kid, and a couple of frustrated tech teachers, who would keep cursing the Gods of all heavens for having to put up with me. Of course, these kids are choosy. They pick and choose what interest them most and stubbornly refuse to excel in anything outside their felid of interest. But in things that mange to hold their fancy, nothing can stop them. Parents need to approach their kids differently. They need to observe and bolster the kids in their core competencies. Heartening, many do just the same.

Oooops! I am beginning to sound like a child psychologist. But somehow, my interest in kids comes to an abrupt close when I get completely worn out trying to entertain them. That’s when I pity the parents. Most kids are hyperactive, seeking something to do … something to occupy them. And that drives the parents … most often the mothers, crazy. I have another nephew (Kaushik) who is extremely charming and cute … that he could disarm even the wildest creatures with a flick of a smile. But he is the most notorious kid on the block. He has such restless naughty eyes that keep roving all around in search of the nest thing to be broken or torn down. He is always up to some mischief. Whenever I meet his mother, I have the feeling that I come face to face with someone who is undergoing things worse that a Nazi rule. Last year I heard, one fine morning she found herself hunting for a pair of starch stiff new clothes that my cousin had bought for her. She had left the pair on the bed and gone into the kitchen to attend to a lunch that threatened to char. When she came back she found the pair of new clothes missing. Ransacking the entire house, she searched every conceivable corner, till her nerves threatened to split ends. Then in a stroke of lightening flash she turned around to glare at those innocent, questioning eyes, that almost asked her, “Now what? Why do you always have to pick on me? I am the sweetest kid on earth content to play with my dumb toys sitting in one place.” Walking over to my nephew she pleaded on bent knees asking him what he did with her clothes. And he …. in his inimitable style, like a darling precious led her by her tiny finger to the bathroom where he open the commode lid to show how efficiently he had bin-packed her new clothes in. Needles to say she turned white with furry and paler with fear of facing her hubby!

That was just one of the numerous atrocities that my cousin’s wife has to bear with, in the name of sweet doings of a gorgeous, dainty, sweet heart of a kid. As my mother always says, “It is the parents who need counseling on how to rightly bring up a kid, and not the kid on how to grow up rightly.” My mother’s been into counseling for almost a decade now, but that apart, the very fact that I am here reasoning things out this way should help one meet with the fact that she is a good parent!!! Hahahaha …

Shawshank Redemption

These were the last few words that kept ringing in my ears, leaving me with an insuppressibly silly happy smile, when the movie came to an end:

“Some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows that it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.”

Shawshank Redemption, was more of a song sung in praise of hope and human endeavor, to see beyond reality ... to make your dreams the reality. How true it is ... we’re all birds of bright feathers locked up in small miserable cages of the world around us ... of the worlds we are taught to perceive as the reality. And it is this very world that locks us down, also hopes for us to break free. Ironic as it may sound, every man, woman and child who breaks the bars of the cages that they are held imprisoned in, is acclaimed as a hero. The celebration of the human spirit, past the bitter hurdles in its path is a miracle worth holding close to heart. The most beautiful thing about it is that it is softly and sweetly infectious. It spreads, not like a forest fire, but slowly, smoothly and quietly as it was meant to.

I don’t want to write a review about the movie. There are plenty strewn around that one can always pull up a good writing to know more. It’s hard to put into words the feeling with which my heart swelled as I closed my media player at the end of the movie. I must thank one of my junior [Sid], who knew well that I would like this story, and so put it into a DVD for me.

If you’re reading this and you find yourself by a quite evening, sometime down the week, do stop by a movie library or a DVD store to borrow/ purchase Shawshank Redemption. It’s worth a collector’s item. It looks good on my shelf, and I feel warm and happy to know that I own one.