Post # 26 - Show and Tell

Aren’t our lives all about showing and telling? 

This week the twins had to take their favourite toys for ‘show and tell’ to school. I found it very amusing because both N and Z don’t have a favourite toy as such. They have a few favourite books but those, too, keep changing every day if not every couple of hours. They never really warmed up to stuff toys or action figures (not yet!) and there isn’t any toy as such that they can’t live without. I did send them along with one toy each (and tried to impress upon them the night before how much they love that toy) but as expected, they didn’t say a word about their respective toy to their class mates! Toddlers are little people with a mind of their own.

Wait, is this the beginning of a lifetime of show and tell? It might sound a bit crazy but seriously, what are our lives all about? Everything we do - the way we dress, talk, the accessories we have, the cars we drive, the clubs we belong to - they all tell a story about us. They are silent markers of who we are in the world. They help us to create a perception of perfection and happiness without revealing too many details of our lives. 

Social media, though, has totally changed how we view others. Now we don’t even have to step out of the house to show and tell. All we need is a camera, some lights and a decent backdrop to create a perception. The internet has allowed us to step away from reality and create an alternate world. A world which might not always be based on truth but which others out there might be taking to be true for us all the time. Putting perfect family pictures of holidays, weddings, birthday celebrations, work achievements on Instagram and Facebook helps us to show others the so- called perfect lives we are leading. We show and tell what we want to. We hide the imperfections, the daily disappointments, the mundane realities of our lives and only highlight the very best. 

What’s wrong with that, you might ask? We have a right to show and tell what we want to, don’t we? Yes, but in doing so haven’t we all become narcissists or even worse, Dorian Gray? Which is disturbing at so many levels. Let’s take our toddler class as an example. Your child might take a simple dinosaur  - the plastic ones which don’t do much but stand on the floor - while another kid might bring some really fancy toy. How is your child going to feel about it? Isn’t he or she going to come back and say, I want that toy or can you please buy me something nice for my next show and tell? 

And before you give me a lecture on how to raise kids who are above all this material mumbo jumbo, think about yourself. Take a moment and tell me when was the last time you scrolled through the net - Instagram, Facebook or whatever else and didn’t go, I want to buy that or I wish I had that?

Showing and telling, that’s what life is about. It’s up to us to decide what we want to show and how we want to tell our story, if we want to that is. Or maybe Calvin is right, 'Everybody wants the same old thing.'

Images: Google

Post # 25 - Monsoon (Memories II)

When we visited Karachi in the summer holidays, there were three things we really looked forward to: meeting our grandparents, going to the beach, and playing in the rain with cousins. 

Although it rained in Rawalpindi throughout the year, there was something very special about the Karachi monsoon. Probably because of the relief it brought after the stifling heat of June. Or maybe because we were in party mode and needed an excuse to celebrate anything with our cousins and rain was a major cause of celebration. 

Even then as soon as the dark clouds rolled in and thunder rumbled in the sky, the lights went out. This was the pre-generator era (yes, I am that old!) but we kids weren’t bothered with load-shedding. When the first rain drop hit the driveway of my grandparents’ house, all us six cousins were out of the front door, oblivious to everything.

There is a special kind of joy that one derives from the rain and which sort of multiples when you let your defences down and dance with complete abandon in a downpour. 

Even though I haven’t let go of myself and stepped out into the rain in a long while, the twins did yesterday. One moment they were on the porch, stretching out their hands to feel the raindrops. The next instant they were in the driveway, jumping and splashing around. What made it more fun for them, I guess, is that no one (read: me) was stopping them from jumping in dirty puddles or rolling  around on the floor. 

As I’m writing this I feel a little sad. My grandparent’s house is still there but none of us cousins are around to play in the rain. My grandmother isn’t well enough to make aaloo ka paratha or pakoras. Those fading images of merriment and joy are all that I have. And I guess they are enough to out a little smile on my face as the clouds start rolling in and thunder rumbles in the sky. 

Note: I've talked about the monsoon on the beanbag earlier also. You can read those older posts here and here.