It was still dark outside the windows. 6 AM in a winter day. The sun must be still out there somewhere trying to reach us.
‘Wake up, Chutti’, I started the customary morning ritual trying to get my 7 year old out of bed and into the school bus. In between there are a series of steps.
He squirmed and squealed inside the cozy confines of the blanket. It must be surely nice in there. Warm and resting. But it is I who chose to put him in a school and make him go through what I had gone through. I could have done something else. These days yogis and swamis who have renounced everything seem to have a better idea about what to do for kids. There are alternate schools that do not teach or preach but just let your child be in their campus with others. I did contemplate, I did listen to the yogis. But finally I put him in a regular school which simply made him go through loads of shit.
He is a very obedient kid. But early mornings like this are pretty harsh for any one to go against the laws of physics.
‘Wake up, its getting late’, usual words came out of my mouth. I see myself living the same life again and again like the movie ‘Ground hog day’. It seems like a very long life when you start looking at these repetitions.
I decided to throw my next asthra at him. He can be easily brought in line with that I know. He had an ear for stories like every other kid. He was especially the kind who will patiently listen to every story I cook up. Yes, I have this strange problem with story telling.
I cannot remember stories.
I have seen and read a lot, but when I try to tell I fumble. I cannot recollect and relate anything in a way it will give the listener a good feel. I either impatiently rush it up and get to the climax too soon or I find myself struggling to end.
For this reason, I cook up my own stories. I will simply start somewhere and go with the flow. I see his eyes. If they are looking intensely waiting to hear the next word, I know this is a hit with him and I carry with more twists.
Sometimes I do end up with some real good ones. When I look at a ‘Shaun the sheep’ or ‘Despicable Me’ I would be surprised at how close I have got to narrating similar ones.
Sometimes they suck.
But when you have a listener who is willing to listen no matter what you tell, you are not afraid of experimenting. You do not need to tread the every day path and stick to telling stories you read in books or remember from others.
‘Buddha was walking’.
I started with this line from nowhere. This is how I start. Some crazy one line. And I know he knows the story of Buddha. He goes through a more proper story session with my wife who is too good to run through the stories. In fact I end up listening when she reads things for him. No wonder where he got that habit.
‘Buddha was walking on a road’. Now I could see he stopped squirming. He is still and listening.
‘There was this dog which was following him’. I started to build on the story. Now I know I have brought in the character which will be more interesting for him. Every kid can relate to a dog and start to feel a dog coming behind them.
I was thinking to myself. Today I may end up having something very interesting. The starting is clean.
‘He walked into every street in that place. He kept going. He kept going. The dog was still there behind him. Buddha tried to chase it. It was not going back. It was steadily behind him.’ I paused and looked at him.
Now he was almost awake. Eyes open. Looking at me, waiting for the next word.
I was wondering where this is going to go. What next..?
‘Buddha decided to get rid of the dog. He went into a bakery. He brought some bread and threw at the dog. The dog was at the bread. Buddha left the place hurriedly. He walked into a road behind and there he met his friend’.
He was now fully listening. I know I have got him excited enough.
‘OK. Get out of the bed, pee and let’s brush your teeth’. I found the right gap to pull him out. He stepped out and walked into the bathroom. I followed him.
‘And then what happened’? his curiosity coming along.
‘Buddha met his friend. His friend asked where he was rushing. Buddha told there was this dog following him wherever he went. And he got some bread for it and got rid of it.’
‘Buddha kept walking and entered another road. As he entered, he again saw this dog behind him’.
Hearing this, he started laughing at this. Some toothpaste spilt. I washed his mouth again and started to brush.
‘Oh no. what can I do now? Buddha was thinking’.
Here, I paused for a while. Now I came to a point, I have to invent something drastic. Something that will find a way for Buddha to get rid of that dog.
‘Buddha went and sat under a big banyan tree. It was evening by then and the full moon came out bright, big and beautiful’. Now I know where I am going to end. But I decided to go on and see where it ends.
‘Buddha closed his eyes. He sat there still. motionless. When he opened his eyes, the full moon had come far up in the sky’.
‘He did not find the dog.’
I stopped here. Washed his mouth. Opened the tap and let the hot water fill the tub. He was not thinking the story has ended. I could see it. He was still listening.
‘Buddha from then onwards did not see that dog. No other dogs followed him as well. Many people came to meet Buddha. They all said they were being chased by dogs. The dogs were of all shapes and sizes. Some were bull dogs, some were smaller ones. Some who did not see dogs chasing them also turned up just to kill their curiosity and go back and tell stories. But more and more people poured into his Ashram to learn the secret of how he got rid of the dog. Buddha would not teach them anything. He simply listened and did nothing. But some of them understood. They suddenly felt the dogs are not following them any more. This went on….until one day Buddha died. But his secret of getting rid of the dogs following him remained and more and more people learnt the trick.
I knew I got somewhere else now. He was still thinking about the dog. I was pouring the water on him and rubbing soap on his body. I knew I cannot go any further. So I decided to flip it a bit.
I asked him. ‘Have you been followed by a dog?’ He instantly replied. ‘Yes. When I was cycling in the road behind our house, brownie chased me’. I started laughing. This is as hilarious as it can get.
Suddenly he asked me, ‘Appa, why do the dogs chase everyone?’
I was still wiping the water from his body with a towel. For a while my usual sense prevailed on me. Not listening. Suddenly his question ran through my head. Wow. ‘You asked a very good question’ I said.
‘Why do dogs chase everyone?’
I was wondering. Why? I was careful not to be philosophical. But the question had to be answered.
‘You know why? The people who eat breads, leave the crumbs. The dogs are after those’. When I said this, I was happy. I was happy with the answer. This must be definitely a good answer, I thought.
‘So if you stop leaving the morsels when you eat, you won’t find the dog. Dogs need morsels and you drop them all the time’, I said.
He was now showing actions with his two hands on his mouth as if trying to eat with his hands close to his mouth. He was taking it literally I thought to myself and then immediately realized he is right and I am wrong. I live in the dog world. He is not.
He asked again. ‘If the dogs eat the bread crumbs, why do they keep following you even after that?’
I was shouting ‘Man you cannot have too many good questions in a day. That is not good for health’.
‘You see, the dogs are hungry. When you feed them you can keep them away for sometime. But the moment they feel hungry they are back at you probably even more hungrier. The Buddha stopped feeding them. He starved them. He refused to acknowledge them. He became so strong that he no more needed them’.
I knew I was no longer telling a story to him.
