One of the best features of my new abode in Jaipur is the kids' play-school right behind. On days when I don't have to travel or rush early in the morning, I simply sit in my terrace and indulge myself in the pure entertainment that these young con-artists put up. They say that child is the father of man, the way these kids handle their young madams makes me wonder why "woman" was left out of that idiom. The most excruciating session for the petite young teachers has to be the morning assembly. The formation starts with tiny tots arranged in meticulous rows. Almost 30 seconds into the first prayer, heads start popping out of the rows in a zig-zag pattern. Perhaps all of them want to have a view of the pretty teacher singing the prayer. Within a minute, almost all young geniuses manage to settle in a comfortable position - just that the row or any sense of order in the lines vanishes!
The next casualty is the text of the prayer. "He Mata Sharde....hum nanhe munno ko, apna aashish do aur pyaar karo!" One visibly rebellious kid with Sufi looks (long locks and a perpetually lost expression) almost everyday twists the "aashish" to "Haathi" by some mysterious word play. "Apna haathi do aur pyaar karo" - for sure, some day this kid is going to be a very demanding boyfriend in a strained relationship!
For almost all kids, the prayer is an opportunity to clear their vocal chords which have been underutilized for the full night due to sleep and other disturbances. They shout "He Mata Sharde" with a pitch and intent that would wake up Goddess Saraswati from her slumber even if she's had a late night study session. The only exceptions are the kids who have spent their vocal energies resisting their hapless parents and their resolute efforts to leave them in the school. These kids have a permanent frown on their faces and the soft whisper seems more like a witch casting a spell on the whole doomed school. At times, the irritated ma'am declares a fatwa before the assembly - "please don't shout the prayer - try to maintain a sweet tone and sing with love." The kids follow the fatwa religiously. May be too religiously. The prayer turns out like a game of Chinese whisper. The look on the ma'am's face says it all. The kids seem to be enjoying this new way of saving their energy for the play hour.
On days like these, the only thing that stops me from jumping in and joining these kids is the height of the balcony. Or my weight and my age! Gosh, why do we have to get old!
The next casualty is the text of the prayer. "He Mata Sharde....hum nanhe munno ko, apna aashish do aur pyaar karo!" One visibly rebellious kid with Sufi looks (long locks and a perpetually lost expression) almost everyday twists the "aashish" to "Haathi" by some mysterious word play. "Apna haathi do aur pyaar karo" - for sure, some day this kid is going to be a very demanding boyfriend in a strained relationship!
For almost all kids, the prayer is an opportunity to clear their vocal chords which have been underutilized for the full night due to sleep and other disturbances. They shout "He Mata Sharde" with a pitch and intent that would wake up Goddess Saraswati from her slumber even if she's had a late night study session. The only exceptions are the kids who have spent their vocal energies resisting their hapless parents and their resolute efforts to leave them in the school. These kids have a permanent frown on their faces and the soft whisper seems more like a witch casting a spell on the whole doomed school. At times, the irritated ma'am declares a fatwa before the assembly - "please don't shout the prayer - try to maintain a sweet tone and sing with love." The kids follow the fatwa religiously. May be too religiously. The prayer turns out like a game of Chinese whisper. The look on the ma'am's face says it all. The kids seem to be enjoying this new way of saving their energy for the play hour.
On days like these, the only thing that stops me from jumping in and joining these kids is the height of the balcony. Or my weight and my age! Gosh, why do we have to get old!
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