I do not know whether you relate to this or find it utterly weird, but I get a lump in my throat every time I go to my daughter’s cultural event at school. She is six years old and has studied in an equal number of schools till now, thanks to her father’s frequent postings as an army officer. Yesterday, I attended the annual theatre of first grade and it was not only when my daughter was on stage that I felt all emotional and teary-eyed, but many a times during the entire show. I managed to keep the tears at bay though. Now either you are nodding your head in approval or wondering at my insanity. Either way, let me tell you why I feel the way I do when I see little children’s performance on stage.
First and foremost, tiny tots, with their cheeks shining with blushers and pouts pink with their mother’s lipsticks look like little dolls that someone brought to life with a magic wand. The best part is that these little darlings don’t even know how adorable they are looking and there is just beauty all around with not an iota of vanity.
There is a sincerity that reflects in their efforts as they try to enact a step perfectly or attempt to speak long sentences without faltering or pausing. They may not be able to do so faultlessly, but they sure do it with all their heart. None of them is bothered about how good or bad the kid next to them is performing; they are just enjoying their own act.
As I watch my princess perform every year, I realise that another year has passed and she is growing up fast. I look at her and remember her first time on stage and how far she has come so soon. I imagine the day that I will watch her graduate and that is when the panic button threatens to go off and I bring myself back to the present.
All that we are not
The children on stage make me remember how we were at their age and what all we lost for the price of growing up. I can see that the little children truly believe in the messages they are trying to deliver to the adults in the audience. We were there too once. Now these little people are trying to make us remember what we forgot. What went wrong?
And so I sat there, watching the little munchkins dance to patriotic songs, enact the Kalinga war and Ashoka’s renunciation of violence besides delivering the message of spending time with and understanding our children. What can we ever teach our kids when we ourselves seem to have ‘unlearnt’ all we were once taught? Maybe it is time the roles are reversed and we learn from them instead.
As I fought back another tear, I could not help but imagine how beautiful this world would be if only we retained a little childhood in us!
A doctor, a healthcare administrator, an ever travelling army-wife and a hands-on mom who loves to bake, Dr Shivani Shourie gives multitasking a new definition. As if this wasn’t enough, she has recently taken up her long neglected passion for writing as well and is now juggling it all! Her writings are inspired by real life as she believes that everyone and everything around us has a unique story and someone must do the justice of weaving it into words. Shivani blogs at The Solitary Saunter.