*Protecting Innocence* “Abe wo to bada wala ********** hai.” During my stay in a hostel for four years, I had adapted myself to such language, so the word used would not have been strong enough to deserve my attention, had the voice not been so soft. I almost stumbled on my way and looked back. A group of children, dressed in their spotless shirts and neatly ironed trousers, were apparently returning from school. “Not them, surely,” I thought. But before I could look further for the source of the words, another guy of the group left no ground for doubt, “****** hai”. No, I am not referring to the students of secondary school, for whom it is impossible to construct one meaningful sentence without incorporating a handful of slangs in it, but to them who are on the verge of adolescence. None of them appeared to be more than ten years old. I wondered if they even understood what they were so casually referring to. I wished they didn’t. I know that I should not have intervened in their discussion, but the moral values that the children of our generation inherited as a part of their DNA did not allow me to turn a deaf ear to it. “Suno, babu,” I said, and started off. Throughout the explanation of what is wrong and therefore should be avoided, and what is right and must be made an integral part of life, I could feel the kids paying an unexpected amount of attention. “A-Ab se aisa nahi b-bologe, hai na?” I concluded. The group nodded in unison. It felt comforting. My decision to act on the spot proved to be right. The innocent children, who didn’t even know what they said, had been shown the correct path. They would otherwise have grown to be incorrigible abusive brats. Imagine how difficult it would have been for their parents then, to correct them and save themselves the embarrassment. A stitch in time saves nine, doesn’t it? I turned back and continued on my way, satisfied. I didn’t go any further than a few steps when I heard them giggling. A moment later the familiar four-letter word left me stunned. I heard them mimicking my stammering. It was then that I realized that it was my stammering and not my speech that kept the kids interested. Unknowingly, I had made myself the topic of their jokes. Yes, it did hurt. Not the fact that they were making fun of me. Nor, that they didn’t heed to a word that I said. What did hurt was their attitude- towards people older than them, towards the moral values and towards listening and learning. Who is to be blamed for this scenario? It is easy for us to blame others- the group of teenagers travelling on the same bus, today’s incredible Bollywood movies, the drunk rickshaw pullers or the great Yo Yo Honey Singh. The more difficult part is to understand our responsibilities as parents and guardians. We must impart to our children the intelligence to discriminate between what one hears and what one must incorporate in one’s lifestyle. We must enable them to differentiate between the right and the wrong. We must empower them to suppress their attraction towards lustful vulgarity. We must make them understand the value of morality. We must ensure that they become capable of filtering the things they hear. Opening up on the subject is the best way to protect the innocence of our children, which would then enable us to carve them into honest citizens of the nation. ~Kumar
Posted on: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 14:00:01 +0000
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