Mission impossible, indeed

July 27, 2014 01:40 am | Updated 01:41 am IST

140727 - Open page -daughters

140727 - Open page -daughters

My daughter, all of nine years, is hooked on cartoons and the “comedy” shows on television. At her age, I was reading Charles Dickens; all she does is flip through the diaries of a wimpy kid. Consequently, her awareness of the world around her is close to nil.

The fact that my child is still alien to the wonderful world of letters hit me hard. My interaction with her class teacher only underlined my fears and I was determined to instill the love of reading and thirst for knowledge in my little one, come what may.

What better medium than newspapers to accomplish the mission! Words, phrases, idioms, proverbs and more are delivered fresh at your doorstep every morning. And imagine the immense general knowledge you gain in the process! I patted myself at the clever thought, even as my husband gave me his customary ‘why can’t you leave the poor child alone’ look.

If clothes make a man, ‘reading maketh a full man’, I quoted Francis Bacon as I handed over the day’s newspapers to my daughter the next morning. “Starting today, you’ll read the newspaper every day. It is the best place to make friends with words,” I told her as I initiated her into the world of news and views. “It will also increase your general knowledge and help you get into your school’s quiz club,” I said, ignoring her grim look.

I gave her a fresh notebook to write down the headlines of each day. Well, I needed proof that she actually read it. What’s more, it will be an easy reference book for her general knowledge tests. And, who knows, maybe even for the civil services examinations later, if she respects and realises a mother’s unfulfilled dream. I also asked her to jot down any new words she came across. It’ll be great to sit down and discuss the headlines and new words with her, I thought. Just the thing for mother-daughter bonding! I felt good about myself.

Good things, they say, don’t last forever. My elation too was short-lived. All my expectations went awry that evening, when my daughter submitted the headlines and new words to me. Murder, rape, molestation, scandal, and so on, figured in the list of new words she had made.

This was definitely something I hadn’t expected. Times have indeed changed. I was a bit shaken and disappointed. My husband laughed out aloud when he saw the list of words — and my predicament. “Mission failed?” he asked, seemingly relishing my distress. “So you’re going to explain things to her?”

“Of course,” I replied. “If what she had written is a reflection of our times, I’d definitely discuss everything with her and prepare her for the life ahead.”

But I had no idea how. I felt uncomfortable at the thought of discussing topics such as rape and molestation with her. Like every mother, I didn’t want to end my kid’s innocence, and didn’t want her to see every stranger as a potential rapist.

After much thought, I decided to put my concerns on the backburner and tackle the problem at hand — namely, widening her world of knowledge. That’s when it struck me. If not the written word, why not the spoken word!

The next evening, when my daughter dutifully sat down with the newspaper after homework, I switched on the television. “Let’s watch the news today, instead of reading,” I told her. My husband, who had just returned from the office, watched with interest. I surfed channels as my daughter sat beside me, her eyes and ears tuned up for the world of knowledge about to be unveiled before her.

And it was indeed fun. For everyone, except me. For as I changed channel after channel, all that greeted me were angry faces boxed up in squares on the screen — screaming, cursing and shouting for attention. My husband chuckled. My daughter gave me a puzzled look. I smiled weakly at them. Mission Knowledge has turned out to be a fiasco for me.

“You watch cartoons for the time being. I’ll try and get you a good story book this weekend,” I said. I couldn’t miss the look of glee and triumph on the faces around me as I surrendered the remote control of the TV set to her.

seethajayan@gmail.com

0 / 0
Sign in to unlock member-only benefits!
  • Access 10 free stories every month
  • Save stories to read later
  • Access to comment on every story
  • Sign-up/manage your newsletter subscriptions with a single click
  • Get notified by email for early access to discounts & offers on our products
Sign in

Comments

Comments have to be in English, and in full sentences. They cannot be abusive or personal. Please abide by our community guidelines for posting your comments.

We have migrated to a new commenting platform. If you are already a registered user of The Hindu and logged in, you may continue to engage with our articles. If you do not have an account please register and login to post comments. Users can access their older comments by logging into their accounts on Vuukle.