Don't Strangulate the Child!

Of late something strange has been happening to me. Something that others will laugh at if I narrate. Some will even talk behind my back judging that I have lost my mental balance and that I should immediately visit a psychiatric. But nobody will believe in me when I narrate how an unknown child has been appearing before me and that too quite frequently.

No, no. He is not a ghost or any trapped soul. He is not even a lost-child accidentally separated from his parents. He is very innocent but different because something in him makes me feel restless and uneasy. Whenever I get little free time from my otherwise hectic and stressful life and try to relax, he appears from nowhere. I don’t know how does he reach me wherever I am and who informs him about my whereabouts.

He stares at me with a forlorn look, tears trickle down his cheeks and at times his sob is heart-wrenching. The mood of melancholy that he wears has an immediate depressing impact on me, making me go through a wretched feeling.

Somehow he has learnt my name and he does not hesitate to address me with it though there is a huge age gap between us. At least, give some respect huh?

Once he starts, he does not stop till he completes his monologue. He says he has been missing the simple but real joy and pleasures of life for such a long time that he feels it is getting unbearable with each passing day. He says his life has become very dull and tiring, stressful and tense.

Come on! How on earth a child can talk like this? Too matured of his age to have the capability to think at such a philosophical level. I shake my head, flutter my eyelids to make sure I am awake. But I am eager to understand him, learn the reasons for his sadness as I really sympathise with the sorrowful look on his face.

‘Do you know Chandan what happened one day in my school?’ He asked me enthusiastically and then without waiting for a response continued.

‘The Sanskrit teacher was in the class, teaching us those boring grammars which I never got any head or tail. So few of us made paper planes and threw at one another while the teacher was writing on the blackboard with his back facing us. As ill-luck would have it, my paper plane changed its course mid-air, travelled rapidly and hit the bald pate of our old teacher with its pointed nose head-on.

Bang! The angry teacher turned back immediately in a wild rage, caught hold of one child and raised his hand to give him a solid and painful slap. The poor child got so scared that he wet his pant right there and pointed towards me with his trembling finger to escape the assault. The furious teacher madly charged at me wagging his cane.

I could not digest the scary thought of getting few lashes from his ill-famous cane which leaves near-indelible marks on one’s body for weeks. So I picked up my bag and with a lightning speed jumped over the desk, dodged the charging villain and the dreadful cane, dashed out of the class and the school, not to be seen for three consecutive days.’

Narrating the funny incident, the child cannot control his bout of laughter. He rolls on the ground, laughing and clapping his hands and in the process passing on the infectious laughter to me. Then all of sudden he goes back to his melancholic self with a dejected look and wet eyes.

Oh God! Not again.

‘Life was so beautiful those days. Not any more Chandan. Now I am drowned in an ocean of worries, stress and the fear of unknown. No frolicking, gambolling in the grassy fields and no holidays. I have almost forgotten how it feels to breathe fresh air in the lap of Mother Nature. There is no free time like it was before.’

Just then my mobile starts screaming in the dreaded ringing tone. Inevitable! My weekend peace is shattered with that one single call. I hurriedly get ready to go for an urgent meeting that my boss has arranged. All of a sudden I remember about the child and feel very guilty to have left him alone. I go back to my bedroom but he is gone!

The next weekend arrives before I can realize. Time flies almost at the speed of light these days. The job has completely swallowed my life and engulfed my mind. Even the few hours that I get to sleep is not spared. Customer’s impatient screaming colleagues plotting to stab me in my back, boss’s repeated warnings to throw me out of my job visit me regularly in the form of dreadful nightmares.

Hoping to catch some much-needed rest, after lunch I lie down on my bed and close my eyes. Just then, out of nowhere that child appears with the now-so-familiar disturbing dejected look on his face. Before I can say anything, he gestures pleadingly to keep quiet and listen to him. After all, he is a child! His innocence makes me obey him.

‘Chandan, this is the incident from my primary school days. Our class teacher had gone out of the class for a while, giving us an assignment and asked us to complete it without making any noise. He warned us of dire consequences if we disobeyed.

For five minutes or so, we all were engrossed with the assignment. Then my friend sitting next to me nudged me with his elbow and pointed towards the gate of the school. A pale-looking cow had lazily entered through the half-open gate to enjoy some fresh shoots of grass on our school campus.

We looked at each other, smiled and decided to chase it out and in the process have some fun. We quietly got up, tiptoed out of the class and then dashed towards the school garden. We grabbed the tail of the cow as she was grazing to her heart’s content and started pulling with full force. Sensing trouble, the poor cow wanted to escape and thus tried to move forward. But we weren’t going to give up easily and using our both hands we pulled the tail with all our might.

A tug of war ensued. By now the rest of the class stood near the window to enjoy the game. Few of them could not help giggling while few started encouraging us in a hushed voice. This went on for about a couple of minutes. All of a sudden, there came a twist in the game. We felt intense pain in our ears as someone joined the fun and started pulling us very forcefully, grabbing our ears with his strong hands.

Still, we weren’t giving up and held on to the tail of the cow with a firm grip. The other children of our class now started laughing loudly without any inhibition witnessing a unique ‘three in one’ tug of war between our class teacher, us and the poor innocent cow. Needless to say, it ended very quickly and abruptly. The cow dashed out of the school campus for her dear life while were made to kneel down on the school veranda for full fifteen minutes, holding our own ears which were already warm and bloodshot red. They hurt a lot but still, it was so much fun!’

The child continues, “Sadly such small but beautiful moments are missing in my life now.” He sighs, “these are only left as beautiful memories fading away fast as I do not even have the time to reminisce.’

He starts weeping inconsolably and I really feel sorry for his plight. But what can I do? However, I do not understand how a small child can talk about the problems and issues related to an adult person assuming these to be his own? Is it possible that he is suffering from some kind of early age depression?

My tired eyelids slowly start closing, overcome by a beautiful invading siesta. But within a few seconds, I am pulled out of it by the whining of the child.

‘Life is a mirage. As a progressive-minded, ambitious generation of young and educated people, we raise our bars and levels of expectations every time we achieve our goals, especially in the matter of financial security and comfort. We start feeling insecure every time we reach the goal we had set earlier. Hence, we continue to slog even harder to achieve the next higher goal and the next and the next. We become the prisoner of our own ambitions with which we confine our lives within an impenetrable fortress of materialistic targets. We forget the simple pleasures and finally ruin our lives.’

That’s it! I can’t take this nonsense from this child anymore. I got up from my bed and thundered at him, ‘what the hell are you talking about? Do you even understand the meaning of all these philosophical jargons and the heavy dialogues that you are spewing out?

You are a small child who is yet to see the real world. A child like you spends his days having all the fun of life. The only so-called stress is to study and appear for the examination. It is people like me and not a child like you who go through the stress of life having to achieve so many things be it in the professional or personal life. Without money, forget about a comfortable life, even survival becomes challenging. Then there is the pressure of friends and relatives in the society which constantly challenge us to maintain certain standards of life necessitating more money.

My life is completely screwed up, not yours. Please stop torturing me, I don’t want to see you anymore. Don’t come to me ever, I beg you with my folded hands.’

His face pales as I scold him very angrily. Tears start flowing down torrentially. His lips tremble and his voice gets choked as he tries to say something.

Finally, he manages to speak with a faint voice, choked with emotions. ‘Are you still not able to recognise me Chandan? Look at me closely. I am none other than ‘the child in you’, the little child who lives in the heart of every adult person!

Have mercy on me; let me enjoy the simple fun and pleasures of life, time to time! I want you to be happy but you do not understand me and my simple needs. I do not need the money, power and fame that you chase like a possessed man. My needs are simple, my happiness lies in small things.

Allow me to go and dance in the rain, relive the experience of your childhood. Let me go backpacking to the Himalayas or to the desert in Jaisalmer like you did your college days. Give me some free time for a game of football with your friends which you dreams of frequently. I beg of you, do not strangulate me, the innocent and pure child in you. Let me live, please!’