No four walls

I look at my children and think that for the most part, they are indeed lucky. They have a more varied life than I did. They are exposed to more things. They have already seen more places now than I had till I got married. Their life is not always dull routine and while they do crib occasionally, they seem rather content with the way things are. They demand attention in a way that I would never dream of doing as a child. Its a good thing – undemanding children generally get ignored.

When I try to recollect my childhood, I feel it wasn’t an entirely unhappy one. I cannot imagine my children surviving being cooped inside four walls day in and day out for close to ten years. But the saving grace of being children is that you adapt. My physical environment might have been completely devoid of stimulation and yet my dream world was so peopled with adventures and excitement that out of sheer necessity creativity bloomed. My sister was a genius at making the spaces around us more interesting. She had a magic touch which made the drab surroundings look quite charming in their own way. My brother was too little to not know that four walls were too small for a child. And me? Oh I would read always – I would be a beautiful actress one day, a warrior the next, a scientist on the third day, a sophisticated lady about town on another. I would see my stories in print in my mind. I could live in that little world and it was far more appealing than anything the real world offered me.

Evenings we would play out with our friends on those days when there were no sandstorms. The infrequent rains transformed the ‘desertscape’ temporarily creating miniature lakes and deliciously tempting puddles. The rest of the time we were inside or at school. Weekends were the same as weekdays except we didn’t have to get up at 6 in the morning and the lunches were wonderfully elaborate. I do not remember a significant change in our routine ever. By the time we returned to India, I was so used to sitting at home for the most part that even given a chance to step out, I wouldn’t know what to do. It did not help that the area we stayed in had plenty of unsavoury characters up and about in the evenings and even walking short distances was made difficult by their rude stares and irritating comments.

My first true taste of freedom came when I left for college. For every other girl the convent-run hostel was a prison – for me it was wonderfully liberating. I could walk wherever I wished in the closed compound. I could dream under the trees. I could talk to so many other girls. I had no clue why the others complained so much about their confinement though I agreed that the food was simply too much to bear after a while! It was the first time that I understood that no one else lived quite like my family, that their life consisted of a huge extended family and visits to all , that a trip to the cinema theatre did not necessarily mean a loss of character! It was amazing how different the outside world was but given all the other avenues of excitement, I preferred my books which were the only constant in a strange new world whose rules I could never quite grasp.

After the girls’ college, I spent three years in an engineering college – my first experience of a mixed environment – meaning boys and girls studying together. It sounds so archaic when I think of those days and yet it was not very long back. I enjoyed those years making friends and opening my mind ever wider to absorb all sorts of interesting facts. I got my first anonymous letters and felt rather proud at the fact that girls would actually sit down and write how much they disliked me – and I made even more friends. My parents were alarmed at the new independent me. No longer could they coop me up in four walls or keep my mind from growing. They wondered at the ideas that now occupied my mind. They were however happy that I was traditional enough not to embarrass the family by doing something as low as falling in love. I am pretty sure my parents must’ve said a few hundred extra prayers to ensure their daughter was never prey to temptation ;-)

I do not want my children to be like me – carrying the vestiges of a fear of venturing into the unknown. I don’t want them to be uncertain about making mistakes. There is no such thing as perfection and I wish I could follow what I drill into them – make mistakes and grow my little ones – fly away and find your dream – fear drags you down. To that end I will take them everywhere so they can see for themselves the endless possibilities and dream better dreams and also never stop at dreaming but move on to realizing...