Showing posts with label Kids at play. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kids at play. Show all posts

A Young Hair-Artist

 

A Young Hair-Artist

He was startled awake upon hearing the SOS call from the girls. These kids are impossible, will not even allow a man to enjoy a siesta on a hot Sunday afternoon, he muttered, and hollered, "What's the problem? Why are you screaming?"

"Come quickly, and see what N is up to," the girls sang their agitated chorus.

He went to the kids' bedroom. The girls, aged nine and seven, were standing on the bed, squealing and laughing in mock agitation.

"What happened?"

"Ask N."

"Where is he?"

"Hiding under the bed. He has Ma's tailoring scissors in hand, and was chasing us, threatening to clip our hair."

"N, come here, at once."

He didn't.

"He won't. Do you know why? He has clipped his own hair," said the elder one.

The room was small, the bed oversized, and the gap under the bed permitted a five-year-old to slide under but impossible for Dad to reach. N had chosen the perfect hiding place — a secure cave.

Dad changed his strategy.

"Come out, I'll not beat you. That's a promise."

N took a little while to evaluate the promise, and slid out, head first, with scissors in hand, body smeared with the dust under the bed.

Dad couldn't have reneged on his promise even if he'd wanted to — one look at N and he broke into laughter, which woke Ma and brought her to behold the scene.

N had made a half-moon in the centre of his forehead.


 Gemini AI read the anecdote, and generated the image with a few prompts from the blogger.

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#FamilyStories #ParentingMoments #SiblingShenanigans #TrueStory #KidsWillBeKids 

Patriots of Pollibetta

 

Patriots of Pollibetta

Where may I buy a cake, please? I asked Mohan, the polite, soft-spoken, and super-efficient Jeeves who catered with promptness and a smile to all our needs during our five-day family holiday at Pollibetta House, perched pretty on the tallest hillock in Pollibetta coffee plantation estate in Kodagu, Coorg.

There is a small bakery in the village, Sir, but they may not have a cake,’ he said.

For her birthday celebration in the evening, our daughter had chosen to do without a cake and candles, and hence, we had not bought it at Bengaluru before leaving for Kodagu. Dayamma, the amazingly talented cook who served us several delectable local dishes – nutritious and healthy – was making for dessert orange souffle which would double up as cake to be scooped up with a spoon by the birthday girl after dinner.

After a bracing shower in the afternoon, the rain had stopped but the sky was overcast and there was forecast of further rain in the evening; so, I took an umbrella with me for an enjoyable walk inside the plantation. A few minutes’ walk from Pollibetta House, three children were at play near the cluster of staff quarters. As I walked past, I heard them singing the national anthem, but only the opening line, again and again, and interestingly, the youngest girl of about four sang it first, and the older kids repeated after her. Aug 15 was several weeks away; maybe they are practising for their daily morning recital at school which had just commenced after the summer vacation, I thought. But why is the little girl leading the practice, I wondered?


(Arpi, Sanvi & Sanchit)

At the gate of the estate, I asked the security guard, ‘How far is the village, please?’

‘Very near, Sir. About ten minutes’ walk to the left.’

Why not check the bakery and pick up a fresh cake, if available, to surprise the birthday girl and the family? I did not have my wallet on me, but my phone had Pay TM and Google Pay on it.

Pollibetta has a few small shops catering to the needs of the villagers and plantation workers, and the bakery stocked only bread, biscuits, cookies, and chocolates in small packs, but no cakes. I bought a few packets of Cadbury Silk to complement the orange souffle.

On my way back, I spotted the three kids still at play, but they had moved on to a new game. When I approached them, on a whim, they abruptly stopped their play and looked askance at me. Sorry to have startled them and interrupted their game, I asked the little girl, ‘What’s your name?’ Arpi, she said. And yours, and yours, I asked the other kids.

Do you go to school?

Yes, Sir, they replied in a robust chorus.

The ice was broken, and I was no longer a stranger.

Arpi is in UKG, Sanvi in Class II, and Sanchit in Class IV.

Can you sing the national anthem, I asked Arpi?

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Will you, please, sing it for me?’

‘Yes, Sir.’ She brought her two little feet together, stood to attention, and confidently sang the anthem.

Can all of you sing it for me and may I make a video of your song, I asked?

‘Yes, Sir.’

They stood to attention and sang the anthem with zest and flair.



‘Here is a little reward for you.’

I gave them each a packet of chocolate, which Arpi and Sanvi accepted with thanks, and Sanchit accepted with much reluctance. Maybe, his parents have counselled him not to accept gifts from a stranger.

National anthem is sung in 52 seconds, and the kids had done it almost perfect – in 55 seconds – singing impromptu!

It felt good to see these tiny saplings of patriotism; hearing the anthem from these little Patriots of Pollibetta was heartwarming.

***

21 July, 2023

Dr. Prafulla Kumar Tripathy's Sambalpuri poem

After reading my blog, Dr. Prafulla Kumar Tripathy, a veteran academic, author, and leading light of Sambalpuri and Odia literature, has written this wonderful poem in Sambalpuri. I express my sincere gratitude to Dr. Tripathy.

ସାନ୍‌ ଛୁଆମାନେ ଗାଇ ଜାନ୍‌ଲେ'ନ

ଆମର୍‌ ଜାତୀୟ ସଂଗୀତ୍‌

କେନ୍‌ତି କହେମା ' ଆମର୍‌ ଇ ଦେଶର୍‌

ନାଇଁହୁଏ କେଭେଁ ହିତ୍‌। ' ?


ମଂତର୍‌ ପଢ଼୍‌ଲେଁ କି ଭଜନ୍‌ ଗାଏଲେଁ

ହେସି ପରେ ସବୁ ମଂଗଲ୍‌

' ଜାତୀୟ ସଂଗୀତ୍‌ ' ବୁଝି ଗାଏଲେଁ

ସୁଖି ହେବା ମନ୍‌, ଜାଂଗଲ୍‌


' ନର୍‌ 'କେ ତ ଲୁକେ ' ନାରାୟଣ୍‌ ' ବଲି

କରୁଛନ୍‌ କେତେ କୀର୍ତନ

ସତେଁ ' ନର୍‌ ' ସାଂଗେ ମିଶି ଚଲ୍‌ଲେଁ

ହେତା ବଡ଼୍‌ ପରିବର୍ତନ୍‌

***


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