PNC Shambhu - Early Years - Pockets

It is common in the Indian culture to observe a child closely and comment on its 'nature' from a very early age. The elders in the family and neighbourhood will often predict a certain future personality and a kind of future for the child when he/she is grown up. PNC Shambhu certainly gave some early indications to his parents and grandparents that they were blessed with a special child. But then, his family and friends did not quite 'get' him in the early years. They mistook his expressions and his parents feelings as the norm, where every parent feels their child is a special one, different from all others but still a normal child that everyone wants. He did give them a few good memories to remember. One of these early ones was actually a false alarm that everyone remembered because when they were experiencing the event, they all thought they were watching something off-the-charts, until it ended differently and tamely.

            Shambhu started to speak clearly when he was about a year and six months old. It was a slightly late start. However, it was also perhaps because he was quiet and seemed to be lost in thought or observing something that no one could figure out. When he started to speak, he would often say things that no one else had noticed and he would seem to miss out what everyone else had noticed.

            One day, when he was about two and a half years old, Shambhu was dressed up smartly in new clothes for the yearly Festival of Lights and was taken to a large gathering of family and friends. Everyone else at the function too had come dressed in all their finery and brought their families. There were a few great-grandparents, many grandparents, very many parents and a large batch of kids of all ages, even some very tiny infants.  Most were related to each other and all the exact relationships of aunts, uncles, cousins, grand aunts, grand uncles and the family tree was being explained to the children as the adults introduced them after greetings. The little ones were all greeted with special love, some with their cheeks kissed, prodded, pinched, hugged, carried, tickled, heads ruffled and generally made to feel that closeness of family.

Shambhu's family was related to the host family. They had a daughter about his age called Priya. He was told about her before he went over. He had proudly and possessively carried a present for her. The little girl was asleep when Shambhu arrived, so he went over to play with a dozen other kids, running around, screaming, squealing and wandering in and out of the many rooms in the big, grand house. There was a room which was closed where the little girl was sleeping and another one in which apparently many mothers were there with their infants. There were people everywhere he looked around. There was cooking going on, music playing, radio playing in one room, a television in another. Groups of grown-ups were chatting, playing cards.  There were drinks and snacks being served everywhere. People were bustling hither and thither. The central hall, from which all the other rooms radiated away, had all the important guests and the elders of the family all seated. Some younger folk were standing around, many sat on the floor. The host family bustled about greeting everyone, chatting, offering snacks and guiding the helpers.

            Shambhu's parents were seated there too and his mother held on to the present that he was to give the little girl of the host family. Everyone was waiting for her to wake up and join the group. They had a nanny to help them with the children. Dinner would be served after the little girl woke up and was dressed up and ready to join the gathering. Until then, all the children atleast seemed free to meet up with others in the same range of age or size as themselves, roam around the house, play and while they were being shushed once in a while, they created regular bursts of high-frequency and high-volume sounds. Occasionally the sound of a group of men guffawing would rise up above the background crowd noise. It was a wonder how people were actually listening to songs on the radio or programs on the television at the same time.

            Suddenly, there was flurry of calls to the running little kids from their parents, a call to home base in the big central hall. If a child was not within earshot, somehow word was conveyed to it. Older siblings were dispatched to go and fetch the still missing ones. The host family’s little girl had woken up and had been dressed up and prepared to come down. After introductions, dinner was to be served, beginning with the kids in the first batch.

            Shambhu ran back to his mother and she gave him the colourfully wrapped present to give away to the little girl. She soon appeared - a tiny beautiful little doll like figure, about two years of age, herself wrapped in a lovely, colourful, mini traditional dress of silk and gold embroidery.  She had beautifully combed hair and some sparkling jewellery too. She was carried down to the centre of the hall by the nanny. Everyone’s eyes turned to her as she looked around with a mildly unsure expression at the huge gathering and all the unfamiliar faces. She may have felt she was still dreaming and she jumped on to arms of her mother and buried her face in her neck and tightly hugged her.

            ‘Aaawws, oohs, aaaahs’ and exclamations escaped many lips.

There were demands voiced –

“Let us see the beautiful face properly!”

“Come on, look at us, Priya darling! We’ve all been waiting to see you!”

            All other little children too watched curiously, at the new centre of attention, as she slowly and curiously turned her head sideways to sneak a peek at the crowd. She was shy but apparently enjoying all the attention.

“Priya! Everyone wants to greet you. Say ‘Namaskaaram’ to great aunt! Say hello to all your friends!” coaxed the mother, gently trying to turn her around to face the gathering.

            Priya clung tight to her mother’s arms but turned her face to catch a second glimpse at the crowd. Instinctively, her eyes searched for those closer to her size and she found a few looking at her in open admiration and awe.

                “Hey! Look at that Bindhi  on her forehead! So cute!” exclaimed a lady.

                “Priya, Look at what Shambhu has got for you.  He has a present to give you. Go on, Shambhu, give it to her,” this was Shambhu’s mother.

                All eyes turned towards Shambhu as he stood there, frozen, gawking at Priya. Until now, Shambhu had felt good about the present, holding it in his hands and feeling that it was ‘his’ present, even if it was to be given away. Like many children at that age, Shambhu did not think ahead of how it would feel to let go of it. The feelings would hit him only just as he was about to part with the colourful, solid package. He had both wanted to be the one to give away the gift, but also had mixed feelings about letting it go. He felt the pressure of all the eyes on him and the expectation that he had to give away something he liked. He started to look a bit unsure.

                Shambhu’s parents, being good parents, were in tune with his nature and feelings. They were the first to spot the potential for something unexpected.

                “Shambhu, this is the Priya that YOU wanted to give the gift to. Go on son, give it to her,” encouraged Shambhu’s father as Priya’s mother set her down on the floor in front of her and held her by the shoulders, facing away from her.

                Shambhu tightened the grip on the present and held it hugged, close to his body. It was his last attempt at taking a stand.

                Shambu looked at his mother. She too had that expression where she seemed to desperately want him to do as he was being asked. He sometimes could not figure out grown-ups, they were so nice to him and gave him things he liked, but sometimes they wanted him to give them away and were very insistent. His fears were confirmed when his mother also joined in the demands with her deceptively sweet  and cajoling tone, something that often changed quickly to a much less friendly one if not obeyed.

                “Shambhu, darling. That is the present you were to give to Priya. Go on and give to her now, sweetie,” said his mother.

                When he heard the words ‘darling’ and ‘sweetie’ in the same sentence, Shambhu knew that the game was up.  He decided to give in and hoped that compliance would bring the rewards that he had experienced in the past. He stepped forward, looked Priya in the eyes and gave her the present.

“Here, take it. It is for you,” said Shambhu quietly. The little girl’s face lit up. She quickly took it. There was evident pleasure in her eyes at receiving this bright, colourful package.

                There was a big cheer from all for Shambhu and a hug from his mother. His father too was relieved.

                “Priya! What do you say now, darling?” said her mother loudly as she restrained the little girl from opening the present right away.  The little girl looked confused.

“Say Thank you,” whispered the mother in Priya’s ear. Suddenly all the eyes and expectations were on Priya to do the ‘right thing’! The poor girl was so eager to see what the present was, but had to restrain herself.  She found her mother kneeling next to her and prompting her, while having her hand on the present. The little girl too had found grown-ups had these strange ways. She decided to cooperate quickly and get to opening up the package.

                “Thank you Shambhu,” she said softly.  That was also met by a cheer all around.

                Priya went about carefully removing the wrapping and revealed the contents. It was a set of pretty shiny silver anklets that tinkled and jingled as one walked wearing them. A lot of exclamations erupted.

                “Priya is a girl. She is a girl!” said  Shambhu loudly. There was a bit of silence in the room.

No, no Folks! It was NOT a sexist statement of gender discrimination by an Indian male, as stereotyped in Western media! It was not even a statement against a gender. It was one statement in a chain of reasoning of a little innocent child, who was trying to cope with some loss. You will see his complete reasoning as we proceed with the story.

                “Yes, she is a girl, Shambhu!” said his father, puzzled but not worried as yet. “Kids say the strangest things” came to his mind.

                “Isn’t she a pretty girl?” someone chimed in.

                “Priya is a girl. I am a boy,” said Shambhu again. That got some attention around, from the grandparents and great-grand parents, but particularly from the parents of the kids.

“Boy meets girl!” someone wisecracked.

“They start early these days” said someone else. There was a guffaw from the men and peals of laughter from the women.

                This was not what Shambhu wanted. He was not finished with making his point.

“I have something I will not give Priya because I am boy and Priya is girl,” said Shambhu loudly.

                Now, that really got the attention of almost everyone in the room, even that of the little kids, who probably were on a closer wavelength to Shambhu’s thinking. They really wanted to know what it was that was special, that he had and that he did not want to give to Priya. The grown-ups and others with less innocent minds were worried about the other part of Shambhu’s statement, the one about the ‘boy versus girl’ part, something which all the kids knew was not the real issue here.

                Shambhu was not sure what the anklets were really for.  They did not look like something he could use, but he felt the pangs of parting with something that was attractive, shiny and that apparently a lot of the people admired. He knew the anklets were no longer in his possession and were gone. He also resented all the attention the little girl and the gifts were getting after his heroic deed of giving them up. He could not keep it within himself any longer. He had to let it all out. He wanted to express that he still had something that he did not have to give away and feel good about himself.

                There was an awkward silence, a bit uncomfortable. While no one really expected that a two and a half year old boy was so precocious and knowledgeable in worldly ways, the grown-ups were  more anxious about what might come out next. Already Shambhu’s parents and Priya’s parents were thinking of strategies to pre-empt a disaster and steer the topic to safer waters. They dared not ask Shambhu exactly what it was that he had as a boy that he did not want to give Priya. They prayed to God that no one else would be foolish enough to ask Shambhu that very question that was on all their minds. Some of the oldest members in the room were shaking their heads as if unsure of what they heard or at the times they were living in. Some smiled uncomfortably, while some smiled mischievously.

“Hey, let’s see what we have for dinner…,” started Shambhu’s mother when she was cut off by a more clear voice.

“Shambhu, what do you have that you will not give Priya?” asked a five year old girl.

Now there was no escape. The very question that the grown-ups most feared was put forward, clear and out there for all to hear and for Shambhu to answer. He did so, very confidently.

“Pockets. I have pockets in my pants. Priya is a girl. She wears skirts. I will not give my pants to Priya,” explained Shambhu, feeling good about having something he did not have to give away.

The tension in the room eased and I am sure a couple of lives were saved by the heart-attacks prevented. There were bursts of laughter and cheer. Many comments rang out.

“Attaboy Shambhu! You keep your pants on!”

“Yes, my Boy! Don’t give that girl your pockets!”

That moment certainly was burned in the memories of many and it was recalled many times in many places over many years.

Dinner was served.



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2015
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