Wednesday, December 02, 2009


Not Beatrix Kiddo,though I must confess that I am now part of the 'Tarantino - Thou art El Nino' clan. My Kiddo was an unstoppable powerhouse of random thoughts sitting in front of me, en route to Bangalore. At an age where anything and everything is fascinating,this 3 foot tall professor was explaining to his dad why giraffes and dinosaurs have a 'stretchy' neck.The next sentence was about what he'd get as gifts for his fifth birthday. Sadly,topic hopping without being mistaken for a lunatic is a privilege you're stripped of as you grow older.

So Kiddo was all excited about visiting his 'Perry-Paw' in Bangalore.Took me a while to figure out that his accent wasn't Brit, but Aussie. (Useless observation of mine).

Quite frankly,I'm not a big fan of kids and firmly believe that after the age of five or so they are nothing more than a liability.I know that I'm part of a miserable minority and have faced reactions ranging from an outright 'How COULD you?' to a plain expression of disapproval. If there is one thing that scares the shit out of me ,it is the monstrosity of childbirth. How some people can call it a 'miracle' is beyond me. Miss Trunchbull, the terror of a headmistress in Matilda, would often say 'I was NEVER a child for as long as you twits are!Why don't you devils grow up sooner!' or something to that effect. Makes me wonder if I'm some sort of a confused Trunchbull. But I realize I am not alone in this world and the fear of parenthood ranks high on the list of many.

As Kiddo enthralled his limited audience of two, with a silent admirer in the back row, I saw him sneak shy glances at me and forgot all about my grievances about parenthood. As his almond shaped eyes went up and down to match the crests and troughs in his wonderfully concocted stories, I realized I was falling in love with him. It is that magical innocence about a child which makes it all worth it at the end,or so they say.Or maybe it is that chance to relive your childhood through your offspring .In any case,few and far in between have been the times when I have felt drawn towards children and felt the urge to scoop them up in my arms and blabber along with them like a fellow kinder-gardener. This was one of those moments. But something always holds me back. What if his parents object? What if Kiddo doesn't respond to my affections? Worse still, what if he bursts into tears? So once again, I refrained from acting on impulse and went back to being a silent admirer.

"Come Varun, time to get down now".. Kiddo was whisked away from me without having had a chance to tell him that I'd remember him for life. I watched him trot into the distance holding daddy's hand, leaving me wondering If I'd ever walk alongside a 3 foot tall professor of my own,spouting away stories like there's no tomorrow.