Yesterday my son’s school celebrated their annual function for kindergarten kids. A small festival of sorts celebrated with performances put up by the little kids and their teachers.
We had reached the school in time and occupied our seats to watch our little one dance on the stage. He had not practiced well we knew as he wasn’t well for some days. While seating there, we watched people around as the seats in the amphitheater started filling. Parents, grandparents, younger / older siblings – all excited and waiting for the performances of they loved ones.
Kids came one after the other and danced to various tunes. A couple of kids clearly loved dancing. They enjoyed the attention from the audience, they danced to the tunes without really worrying about where the rest of the 9-10 kids on stage are dancing. Some were visibly bored; like those 2 flowers sitting on the side of the dancers in the song “awara bhanwre”. They started chatting with each other. In no time they were engrossed in their own play on stage intruding the dancer’s space. And some were dancing, the way they rote 1 to 100 – without expression, extracting all the dance move information from their mind, and trying to follow the 1-2 1-2-3. Many of these kids were tense when they arrived on the stage, and many searching for their parents were shouting “mommy” the moment they came on stage. The frown of fear changing into a smile of excitement as they saw the folks who would support them.
These delicate little men and women were cute. My son was also a part of one song. When the dance started, from the right most corner at the back of the stage, his eyes started searching for us. He found 2 waving hands in a moment and was back to his steps. He danced, partly remembering the steps, partly copying his partner. I saw those free spirits following instructions and getting “trained”. At the end of the dance though, when everyone went back, and music did not stop, my son felt like doing a “free style” and started jumping, alone on the stage. He loves attention, but knows not how to get it J.
Looking at these kids, I realized they aren’t shadows of their parents. They are their own self- they are individuals. They are strong Individuals. They are open to learning, are not weighed down by their emotional self. There is no baggage – yet. There is lightness in being themselves.
And then when I looked back at those gleaming eyes in the crowd, I saw the irony. School is such a positive environment that cynics like me always sees irony in the air there. All of us, reaching their tired from the office, had ourselves hooked on to our kid’s performance. Those little boys and girls were like anchor of the dreams, aspirations and sheer joy of their parents. They were like the shore for these ships, rather shipwrecks being battered by winds. Shipwrecks– which are naturally carried towards the shore which is their only hope –even when nothing remains, hope does.
We the people are emotionally fragile- the daily chores and the social life has extracted so much out of us, and created such a lot of pent-up within us that we are vulnerable. We might snap at the slightest instance of disturbance in our life. And we anchor our happiness on these little kids. They are strong individuals; they don’t feel the weight though. As they will grow up and as we will grow old, these anchors will turn into some sort of bond (both in good and bad ways). And they will soon turn in to us. I hope they don't.
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