Playing games on a smart phone and listening to the
song ‘Welcome To The Hotel California’, the young lad in his late teens, dozed
off to sleep. Snoring to glory, he saw himself walking up the dark, deserted
staircase into a bedroom. With no ray of moonlight, he saw him sleeping on
the bed. A woman with long pepper-salt hair, with no eyeballs and a twisted
face, slipped quietly into the room. She leaned over the bed and whispered, “I will
make you Richie Rich and in exchange you have to sell your soul to the Devil”. Then
the pepper haired woman grabbed his hand.
The entire dormitory awakened by scream, ‘BUMM BUMM
BHOLE…Bummbumm Bhole’ followed by ‘OM NAMAH SHIVAYA’.
“What happen my child , you must have seen a bad
dream” Said the dean. Please have a glass of water and go out of the dorm for
fresh breath”, continued the dean.
The young lad named Chavanni, horrified by the dream
went out of the dorm and sat near the site where two rivers met, Zanskar and
Indus river in Ladakh. Calming himself down, with eyes glued at the encounter of
rivers, heard footsteps walking towards him, yet again having Goosebumps.
A tall dark figure approached him, puffing into the serenity,
“Hi, how are you feeling now”, offering chocolates and continued, “My name is
Atthanni, do you mind if I sit next to you”. “sure, it’s a free world”, replied
Chavanni. “Nightmares hmm… they never leave you & take the crap out of you”,
said Atthanni. “True, it does” continued Chavanni, “but in my case it was a
knock on the past”.
Star glazing, inhaling fresh air and listening to
the flow of the rivers, both trying to come to a fresh page, Atthanni asked, “So,
which school you represent in this Tri-school students trip? Is it Hindostan High”?
“Gurukul my friend”, replied Chavanni. “it is a sponsored
trip for me by my school”, said Chavanni. “Sponsored!! Nice… our school took
five grands per student for this trip”, said Atthanni. “Yes Atthanni”, continued
Chavanni, “I have worked really hard and my parents have slogged to raise & make me reach out”.
“Why do you say that? All have to work hard, I work
hard”. Said Atthanni. “No my friend, the scenarios are different between Rich...(ish)
and the Poor...(ish). The environment, parenting, schooling, social circle, upbringing,
rarare-rururu...”, said Chavanni.
In the undertone of Atthanni’s mind, “Blablabla, he wants to debate now. Debate…debate…deb”. He spoke, “would you mind an explanation”? Without realizing that, he is also knocking on the heavens door like the woman with pepper-salt hair.
“Being a toddler in my early single, I remember managing hunger as food was once in a day. I remember those sleepless nights with no food. Seeing the tears in my eyes, my parents somehow arranged food by asking neighbours for some rice and lentils”, continued Chavanni. “Born into a poor family exposes to self-sacrifice, you would eat less so that your parents eat”.
“Oh, I remember my parents getting a vast variety of
cuisines prepared each time we eat and telling the domestic help to throw away
all the leftover food for the day. Sending the help to fetch fresh and make
fresh the next day. Munching at night was never a problem as the kitchen was always
loaded with chocolates, cakes, fruits, coke, etc.”, said Atthanni. “I don’t know
about self-sacrifice, but yes, I use to think Kamla Ben, my domestic help is a magician
who gets food & money can buy Kamla Ben”, continued Atthanni.
Chavanni said, “Emotions explodes in an instant
& when it does, it disturbs your physical and mental balance, teaching me
to be aware of my emotions. It is quite normal to see neighbours with injured
head, hand or leg. Though my father is a very soft hearted person, but I have
seen him squeezing my mother’s neck in an argument, in fit of rage”.
“Oh God Bless”, said Atthanni, “I have also heard
voices of argument behind the doors of my parents room in late nights, fighting
about money, investments, vacations and not finding about the new ‘Who’ in the
society or business. As they are busy minting money and are never available for
me, I developed fear of losing them, which had a hit on my self-confidence”, continued Atthanni.
“Starved most of the time it’s natural for a child
to grab on to food. I remember my mother saying", continued Chavanni, “Don’t touch
anything, don’t pick anything, whatever they offer don’t take and start eating”,
I learnt self-control”
“Please teach me this, it would be a blessing. I remember
my parents buying me anything and everything I put my hands on, without realizing
the need or importance of it. For them spending money means showering love. I remember
on munching everything, when my parents use to take me to get-to-gathers,
without even asking and earned the badge of being called ill-mannered”, said Atthanni.
“I remember my mother saying those word in &
out, now & then, study hard in the best possible manner, always aim to be
ranked first, only & only then we will get out of poverty. Instead of focusing
on different things in life, my only focus was to get educated. This built the
foundation to stay motivated”, said Chavanni.
“Holly mother of God, this is getting deep, I remember
my parents never checking my report card, what subjects I flunked in, or even
knew the class I was in. The only words I remember, ‘you just have to pass your
exams, rest we will handle. Your father is a millionaire, no need to worry about
your career or build a foundation to be successful. You just have to grow up at
sit in your dad’s office, rest we will handle, without realizing that they are restricting
me to explore and learn new things. Making me lack confidence and not be opportunist”,
said Atthanni.
“Being poor…(ish) & its worst hit was on toys,
books, cricket bat and ball. I remember making a car out of matchbox and lids
of plastic bottle, using the hard cover book as a cricket bat and crumbled
paper tied with rubber band as ball. Making me learn to be self-sufficient and
a creator”, said Chavanni.
“See that was what I was saying, I have a room full
of toys and teddy-bears, they are so many that I just end-up looking and
touching all of them, rather just start exploring one, making me tiered and
bored by them. I remember spending my evenings standing in the balcony watching
the other kids playing with what so ever they get. I was advised by my parents
not to play out of the house for stupid reasons without realizing that they are
putting me in isolation and longing-ness’. Atthanni said.
“Being poor is better off I think, children born in
poor family gets matured in an early stage and develops the way to handle their
life in the best possible way. They are helpful to others, always occupied with
something or other, stay happy in itty-bitty wins, stay motivated, have control
over emotions and learn the importance of sacrifice and money”, continued Atthanni.
“But you look quite civilized, not like those spoilt
rich kids who think that money grows on trees, lack in humanity, drinks and use
substance in an early age”, said Chavanni.
“Lucky me, that my angel, my ‘Basket of Flowers’ that’s
what I use to call my grand-mother, kept a close watch on me. She tamed me,
made sure that I value money, respect all humans no matter what, help the needy
and be self-oreanted when required”, said Atthanni. “I remember ‘Basket of
Flowers’ use to take me to her maternal house back in the village in my
holidays. She use to say “Let me teach you what I taught your father, but he is
not able to give the learning, as he is gone busy minting money” and so she did”,
continued Atthanni.
There they both were in transit; one was missing mom
and her up-bringing, the other, his ‘Basket of Flowers’ who left behind the fragrance
of life. The night came to the end to say good bye, with morning sunshine
smiling and blessing to stay progressive. With a little visibility of the snowcapped
deserted mountain of Zanskar, chirping of birds and the clear view of the
rivers getting encountered, they stood up to stretch. With too much of
offloading they decided to walk back to their dorms. Laughing, cracking funny
jokes on parenting & ended the conversation by sing the song.
‘As the snow flies…, on a cold & grey Chicago morning
& a poor little baby child is born…in the ghetto’
Being the author of KnowPenTea, there is no accurate
answer. Money can offer a child & family with benefits that can help,
giving exposure to opportunities, better healthcare & education, but doesn’t
guarantee attention, stability, parental love & well-being. It is true that
a poor child will have anxiety issues, be exposed to child violence, have lack
of opportunities, but might have parents presently
available with love, discipline & attention to bridge internal foundation
to face challenges. Few things are rooted within like love, guidance & discipline, which gives higher chances to be progressive. On the other hand if
ignored,they will fail to progress in
life and achieve the ultimate goal of happiness.
IT’S
PARENTING YOU DIMVIT!
