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Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts

Sunday, 5 May 2013

Children Not Our Own


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 “You may give children your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.”- Kahlil Gibran

 What a prophecy and how clairvoyant is Gibran! For, today’s youth have their own anarchy of dreams and fantasies, which defy comprehension. Regrettably, they have lost their ideals and gone far away from their moorings pursuing the mirage of their own make-believe thoughts and perceptions. Mesmerized by some bad movies and, growing in a no-holds-barred, ultra-tech world which preaches a neo-culture, the twenty-first century youth grows like shrubs in the wilderness not wanting others to tend their growth.

 Recently, two eight-year-old boys in Chennai staged their own kidnapping drama taking a cue from a movie they had seen. They did this because they did not digest the admonitions of their fathers over their erratic behavior. A twenty-three-year- old Pawan Varma from Delhi enacted a scene of kidnapping and demanded a ransom of Rs.5 lac from his father because the boy wanted to go to a picnic spot and he had no money.

 We have these disturbing trends going on for some time. Youngsters, yielding to their impulsive whims and fancies, resort to such extreme steps just to grab the attention of their parents and family members. The movies they watch, and sorts of strange and bizarre culture they are exposed to in the society convince them that they could turn their parents’ attention to them only through such extreme and abnormal means.

 Poor parents! Since they are always engaged to earn bread and butter for the family and satiate every essential need of their wards, they are left with no time to give proper attention to their children.  Pitifully, most parents find it hard to strike a balance between their work and personal lives. In fact, they don’t have chances to spend quality time with their wards who always feel an alien in their home.

 The advent of the nuclear family is always thought to be a safe haven for young couples as they have their long-felt luxury of privacy. That it has its own hazards too is known to them only after some time when their children start growing up. For, the nuclear family leaves no adequate support system for the kids. Lonely youngsters upset over the lack of parental attention and company resort to extreme actions like their own stage-managed kidnapping because they want to tell their parents that there exist a young soul at home who wish to be with his/her parents for at least some time a day and share their pains and pleasures. The education system too, with its antiquated curriculum, fails to shape the youth.


 Another reason, according to psychologists, that make children abnormal and defiant is the parents’ controlling. It is appreciable that parents always want the best for their children. Their expectation to see their kids grow as good and responsible citizens is also natural. However, in the name of controlling, some parents go overboard and cruelly punish their defiant children not knowing that it only affect their ward’s psyche. I know one of my relatives always brutally punish his 10-year-old son even for his small mistakes. He would strike the boy with anything he could lay his hands on: brooms, spoons, leather belts, and hairbrushes, et al, without knowing that such brutal punishment teaches only revenge to the boy.

 Nuclear family, parents’ controlling, bad movies and an emerging unpalatable culture in the society may be the reasons for making children defiant and delinquent. It is high time for parents and teachers to take cognizance of the malaise and find ways and means to cure them. Good communications between parents and children will always help ease bad situations since the kids have opportunities to open their minds either to the mother or the father. Parents should understand that kids, too, need their own space and can’t be forced. For their parts, kids need to be made to understand that parents are always for them.

 Gone are the days when we had ‘moral’ classes in schools where teachers taught us all the finer values and ideals of life. Since teachers were our role models then, we grew up as Good Samaritans avoiding all pitfalls of life. However, schools had since long transformed themselves from educational institutions into business concerns. They now stop with churning out children who are only academically brilliant, but morally fake.

 It is heartening to note that The Education Department in Tamil Nadu recently urged schools to pay more attention to students’ behavior and necessary corrective measures. They advised teachers not to stop with producing results, but work on strengthening the value system of the community by instilling values in students. Behavioral scientists say that the teacher is the core point. They should become the role-models for the students and integrate value education with classroom teaching.

 Will teachers or for that matter parent’s wake up to the new responsibilities imposed on them by a sudden and swift change in the behavioral patterns of students and prevent them from becoming moral bankrupts? That is really a ten million dollar question on which hinges the future of the Generation Y or Z.


Image courtesy: Google







Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Embracing the Past- Part II



She was walking back and forth the East Car Street searching the AVT [Anand Vinayaka Temple]. The Street was not dormant as it did decades back. The somnolent street had now metamorphosed into a main thorough-fare… a hub of trading activities. Falling into a maze of grand structures and skyscrapers, it had changed itself beyond recognition.

 ‘May I help you Thaye [mother]? You seem searching for something here,’ she heard a beggar’s voice from the entrance to a mall.

 ‘Anand Vinayaka Temple’, she replied, looked up morosely at the beggar; her eyes were still scanning the street for the temple.

 ‘Anand Vinayaka Temple’! The beggar exclaimed, his voice drawled, eyes became somber. After a long pause, he said: ‘Thaye, you can’t see the temple. It was demolished years back, razed down to widen the road. They are keeping the Vinayaka idol in another temple.’ He paused again and asked her: ‘Where’re you staying, Thaye?’

 ‘Minerva Hotel,’ her voice trailed off, she stood frozen with shock and bewilderment.

 ‘OMG! That was the hotel built on the debris of the AVT.’ The beggar now looked deeply into her eyes. ‘Aren’t you then staying over the erstwhile abode of a god?’ the beggar now laughed impishly and moved away from her in quick steps.

 She stood flabbergasted, felt a sense of guiltiness squeezing her heart. A quick flurry of thoughts numbed her body, and a broken mind told her that she had committed a sin by staying a place which was once her Vinayaka temple. She wasted no time, retreated to the hotel, checked out hurriedly and deposited herself in a cheap lodging house.

 A crimson ball, the sun was calling it quits and slipping into the sea when she reached the seashore. Earlier, she didn’t choose the straight road to the coastal area, but preferred to walk down to the seashore through narrow lanes and alleys, which were very familiar to her and they still had the print of her feet in tact. While walking, she could discern that the whole town was breathing a new air of change and development. Even its lanes and alleys did not reflect even the vestiges of the glorious past. A becoming, and high-profile town, it had the waves of development lashing at it constantly, making bonfires of all the cherished old monuments like the AVT.

 The seashore too was not at its old splendor. She saw the sea had rebounded a few yards from the shore and the reason was the recent Tsunami. The sea with its foam crusted waves was no longer the old green canvas, it had turned grey, having got itself bedraggled by the effluents that were being pumped into it by those industries mushroomed all over the town.

 She retreated to the town piecing together a breaking mind; betook herself to the places which, she faintly hoped, would retain its old ambiance and charm- where she could happily hug her past. People she saw and met on the roads looked strange with no homely airs. They seemed to have no belongingness to the town where they were eking out their livelihood. The ongoing industrial development, she realized with a tinge of regret, must have brought people to the town from far and near. She heard a medley of dialects spoken around her and found the local culture unabashedly sleeping with the alien one.

 She went to the area where her house was once located, but couldn’t meet a single known soul over there. When she asked an old man about the whereabouts of those who were residing there once, he curtly told her to look out for them in the cemetery. When she got onto the side of her old school, it wasn’t there having had the fate meted out to the AVT. A grand multiplex stood elegantly over the place which was once her school. For the first time she felt like a stranger in her home town.

 Mid-night. Dark-hewn Universe fell into an abyss of silence. She looked out through the window from her suit. The town was dazzling and glittering, invaded by floods of lights. She was crestfallen. Her disoriented mind was in revolt not being able to find out her roots and kiss her past. She took out her laptop from its sleeve, sent a mail to her husband:

 ‘hi, dear,

 am today winding up my trip here. i do it with reluctance and regret. the town is not mine. it had long back stumbled into a sort of anarchy after swallowing up all the old monuments, old tranquility and the social atmosphere. The erstwhile mellowed, magnificent face of my home town is not found anywhere. it seems to be an evolving city, fully commercialized; its contours not in place. in this wild jungle of modernity, am like a mother lost her child in kumbh mela.

 i came here to embrace my past. but, this town, built on the debris of old heritage, has no past; it cherishes only in its present and dreams about more future anarchy. briefly, i feel i don’t belong here. the town can never be my own. it had razed down my moorings and dreams. i won’t come here again. i know that the only way i will ever see it is in my memory.

 bye darling. tc. convey my ‘hi’ to mom and kids,

with love,

anusha.

 ***
The Chennai-bound bus moved slowly out of its bay, would bounce forward only when reaching the National High Way. It was not crowded, having a few passengers on its board. ‘Who, the moron, would undertake a bus journey and that too for sixteen hours on end under the scorching sun’, she thought. Reclining on her seat comfortably and resting her head on the head-rest, she closed her eyes, determined not take even a last glimpse of the monster town, once her paradise.

 She could only close her eyes, but, pitifully, not able to blink away her tears.

 [Concluded]


Image Courtesy: Google