Chez Moi

Ever tried selling one of the stories from Ramayana or Mahabharata to a child today? Especially one raised on a PG or U certificate rating anywhere else but in India? Hair-raising, I tell you. For one, the stories are all way too gory for their bland tastes. Tell them so-on-so chopped the other bloke’s finger or head off and watch young eyes turn into saucers. The whys and whats and loud gasps would take days to stem, leave alone the increased Nightmare Alert.

If your child is not raised on an Indian filmi diet, then the damage is manifold. Stunted far-fetched imagination, refusal to accept outlandish suggestions and the uncanny ability to put their finger on the one point of niggling abnormality are all just a few of the side-effects.

Take Krishna, for example. The whole baby Krishna- Bhoothana story was declared no-no the minute breastfeeding as a concept was introduced. Being an only child, P has led a much sheltered upbringing and the concept of a baby feeding off a lady’s er, chest, brought forth series of shrieks from my young lad. The Kalinga nardhan story also suffered a similar fate, when the gravitational forces (damn the school’s Science week) and the inability of the parents to keep an eye on their child (Krishna, that is) were brought into question.

I actually managed to sneak in a story of Chathrapathi Sivaji during yet another problematic mealtime, in an effort to make him eat his pasta from the corners of the bowl. This did work for a while and then disaster, in the form of Rajini’s super-dooper hit film hit and now the Chathrapathi got mixed up with ‘Vaaji, Vaaji’ and we were back to Square -1.

I am nothing if not persistent. So tried a different tack and told him the story of Ekalavya over breakfast cereal this morning. Buoyed by the fact that I wasn’t met with rapid fire questions that blew holes into the story, I bravely plodded on. Till I came to the part where Drona asks for Ekalavya’s thumb as guru dakshina.

That was when my luck ran out.

“He asked for the boy’s thumb? Why? That is so gross! Did the boy die?”

“Er, no. It was just his thumb.”

“Why did the teacher want it anyway?”

“With the thumb gone, Ekalavya cannot use a bow and arrow anymore and Arjuna would be the champion shooter, that’s why.”

“Eh? So what if he can’t use a bow and arrow or his right hand? He can use his left hand! Or he can use a gun! Pow pow pow! Easy, see?”

Sigh.

My gran and her kind did not know how lucky they were with us, I tell you. Seriously.

Once upon a time, there lived this little boy called, let’s say, P. One day, P went on a play date to his best friend, K’s house, which was a good distance away. He reached there alright and played till sun down. Then, K’s mum said ’snack time’ and gave the boys some yummy thingummies to eat. P, who’d never tasted something like that before, stuffed his face and asked K’s mum for its name, so he can ask his mum to make it for him.

K’s mum replied: ‘it’s called kozhukattai, P’.

Soon after, it was time for him to leave. He asked the aunty for the name again and to make sure he did not forget it, he kept repeating it to himself. ‘Kozhukattai, kozhukattai’ mumbled he as he walked back home. On his way, there was a short ditch and the man walking ahead of him took it at a running leap, exclaiming ‘athiri bacha’. P too copied him, with the requisite ‘athiri bacha’.

On he continued with his mumbling: ‘athiri bacha, athiri bacha’ and reached home soon.

The minute his mum opened the door, he went, ‘ma pls make me athiri bacha. K’s mum made it and it was real yummy’.

And she went ‘athiri bacha? what is it?’
He replied ‘athiri bacha, i want athiri bacha’ and started whining.
After a few more mins of this, she lost it and said ‘I shall give you athiri bacha’ and gave him a smackeroo right on his cheeks.

P started wailing and by dinner time, sported two huge swollen cheeks. His dad looked at his swollen face and went ‘look at the poor child’s face, kozhukattai maadiri veengi pochu’ and P shouted ‘kozhukattai, kozhukattai that was what K’s mum made yayy’.

His mum laughed and cried and went ‘oh u poor mutt, I shall make u loads of kozhukattai’.

That, is the story of athiri bacha.