Till today, I have not been able to fathom why girls are naturally drawn to dolls, like fish to water, and the boys to mechanical contraptions. If the logic is that girls are soft, and boys are made of sterner stuff, then surely such logic is severely flawed.
It all started with my four-year-old daughter. We had applied for her admission to kindergarten at a well-known school. Passing the test and interview there was akin to clearing the civil services examination. On the day of the test, both my and wife were extremely nervous, while our daughter was a picture of confidence. Like all typical fathers, I offered her to get a tricycle should she get selected. She did not respond to my offer and preferred to maintain stoic silence. We were surprised by her attitude, and at the same time proud of her maturity by not falling to such temptation.
After about a month, when the results were announced, she was first in the merit list. She came to me and reminded me about my promise of giving her a gift. “Daddy,” I would prefer a Barbie doll instead of a cycle, she said. I was very happy with her choice, as the cost of a Barbie doll was one tenth that of a cycle. It was a case of “saste ka sauda”, or so I thought. I bought her a doll and she was excited about owning her first Barbie.
After about two months, she came to me and said her Barbie was feeling lonely and now needed a companion. I went and brought “Ken”, as a companion for Barbie. Everything was hunky- glory -- until one day she came with a demand for a house for them. After all, where do you expect my Barbie and Ken to stay, she queried. I thought she had a strong case and bought her a house. Things went on smoothly without any further demands, until one day she came to me and said Ken and Barbie had to get married. I went ahead and brought the trousseau for Barbie and a suit for Ken. After about a year, she came to me and said: “Daddy, it is high time Barbie and Ken start a family.” Once again, I fell for her logic and bought a baby girl called “Sheila.” After a month she wanted a companion for Sheila. “Sheila has none to play with,” she said, playing on my emotions. As Ken and Barbie’s family grew in geometric proportions, a simple calculation showed that I had been taken for a ride.
However, in spite of her excessive demand for Barbie collection, I secretly admired her for maturity, especially her understanding of family values, till one day I chanced upon a pamphlet that came with the first doll which let the cat out of the bag. Congratulations on buying your first Barbie, you now need to add to your collection by buying... It went on. It gave a step-by-step procedure on how to build a family by first acquiring Barbie, then Ken, house, new dress, baby boy and then baby boy and finally a car for the family. It was too late in the day for me to remedy the situation.
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