It is easier to build up a child than to repair an adult. (Anonymous)
My house faces a huge park and every now and then standing on my terrace, I’m privy to many an altercation occurring between young children and teenagers while playing together, when emotions and adrenaline tend to be on the higher side. Yet, the very next day, the same children displaying no signs of dispute can be seen playing shoulder to shoulder. Having said that, I must acknowledge that I find it extremely disturbing when, at times, parents of the belligerent parties, rather than assuaging them, tend to get themselves involved in such petty squabbles, thereby taking things a bit too far.
However, the drama that unfolded in front of my eyes, the other day, was of an altogether another level. Around 8:30 in the morning, as I stepped outside the gate, ready to leave for college, a group of adolescent boys, who had just finished playing in the ground, caught my attention. One of the boys in the heat of the moment, splashed the entire contents of his water bottle on another. The drenched boy, in return, thumped the splasher on his head, picked up his bicycle and left for his abode.
I was still standing at the gate as my driver was yet to bring the car around. What followed next, piqued my curiosity a notch higher. Within minutes, I heard a man calling out to the boy who was about to take a turn around the corner, “You there! Get back here!” “Come back, I say!” The man was riding a bicycle, which he parked in front of the park. The rest of the boys, too, stalled in their tracks and the bicycle-borne boy could be heard pleading even from a distance.
“Sorry uncle. But, he was the first one to start”, he pleaded all the way from the street corner and back to where the party stood.
I just could not leave, despite knowing fully well that I was going to be late for college, I wanted to see the drama unfold a little further. The father of the splasher was yelling at the boy who had thumped his son.
“Are you a Pehelwan? Do you think you are the Dada of the colony?”
The boy was still pleading that his son was the first to start, when the party was joined by the mother of the splasher who was a little distance away when all the drama began and had witnessed her son being thumped. She, too, joined her husband and the duo left no stone unturned in bullying a boy of twelve.
This was the moment when I thought I must intervene and give the couple a piece of my mind. But I was rooted to the ground when I heard the mother tell her son, “Hit him as hard as he hit you!” The father colluded with the mother, “Don’t be afraid. We are here with you.” I could not believe what I heard. Instead of settling things amicably, like mature adults, they were forcing their son to be violent.
I waited for the boy’s reaction and to my utmost relief, the boy instead of hitting his playmate, walked away with his head hung low, probably ashamed of his parents’ immature behaviour. That day, I created a venn diagram of parents- all parents are adults but not all are mature enough to raise their children well. Maybe, they should learn a thing or two from their children as part of parenting.
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