remember my summer holidays, like they were yesterday. The long, fun train rides down south, for close to 2 or more days. Lying on the hot upper berth, with the fan throwing more hot air around, in a languid daze. Making friends with ramdon people in the compartment, teaming up with new kids and becoming instant best friends, chasing each other up and down the bogie and playing card games. Looking out of the window at the passing procession of India, state after state, tunnels, rivers, forests and towns...Sharing food with people from across the country, eating a variety that one never got at home...
And then, getting to our destination, the sense of growing anticipation as we got closet to the station. Peering out of the window to see which of the relatives had come to receive us and take us home. Hanging out at my grandparents' house in Bangalore, reading my way through Oliver Twist and other classics, and years of issues of Reader's Digests from the '50s onwards.Then Mysore, where my favourite cousins lived.
We spent the whole day doing God-knows-what, with little or no adult supervision or interference. Our 'park' was a tiny temple opposite our house, and we spent the day swinging on the vines of the Banyan tree that grew there. We spent hours chatting and giggling over each meal, so much so that the adults would finish their meal and only then serve us, so that they could be done fast. At night, dad and uncle would get ready for the invasion of their myriad cousins and friends, who'd drop by to supposedly say Hi, then stay on for a meal, then drinks and endless games of 28 interspersed with airings of many old skeletons. Family gossip sessions were another highlight, and we kids would desperately rub the sleep out of our eyes and stay awake to hear all the anecdotes.
I'm a working mom, and though my parents live just down the road from us, they have been away almost every summer since I had kids, visiting my sister in the US. So my kids, starting with Chubbocks, have been enrolled in summer camps. They have been great fun, from dramatic activities to an 'Around the world' series last year, arts and crafts, games and so on. And they have helped my kids stay busy and occupied at least for part of the day, given that both A and I would be out most of the day.
But I've always felt a little bit guilty and somewhat sad thinking of their summers. To think that they'll never understand the concept of unstructured time that they get to decide what to do with. To think that they'll never figure out what's it's like to create their own amusements and occupations, from fighting with each other to playing, getting up to mischief, gossipping, reading and all the rets of it. To imagine that they'll never have a time to remember when all the kids crowded into one room and slept huddled up together on mattresses on the floor, giggling helplessly at silly jokes and staying up late to play pranks on each other.
And so this summer. My parents are here until a week before the kids school reopens. A and I have to go to France and decided to go solo, sans kids, so they'll get a real experience of 'staying at grandma's, rather than visiting back and forth as they do everyday. I have consciously not enrolled them into any summer activities, hoping that they'll soon get into the rhythm of keeping themselves busy on their own. And later when my sister comes over, we're doing a weeklong family vacation, starting with a train trip to Bangalore with my parents and then a visit down memory lane to Mysore, where we all plan to stay together.
I guess the cousins will have many differences, from age-group to accents, disciplines and schedules. But I'm hoping that we parents can find it in ourselves to let it go and chill, and let the, find their own levels. I want to give them a slice of my own childhood summers to remember.
Crossposted at desimoms
Showing posts with label summer holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer holidays. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Summer Holidays
Chubbocks summer holidays just got over this morning, and Puddi goes back to playschool tomorrow. This time around, my parents were away in the US with my sister and we had charge of the family dogs, so we couldn't go out of town till my parents came back, not to mention that A has a new job and I was in some job-related turmoil so we were kind of stuck in situ.
My kids do have cousins - one in the US, the other in Canada, and will have one more, when my sister has a baby in October this year. But sadly, they hardly get to meet them, since they live so far away. Once in two years is the best that can be managed. My sister and I did have a plan to meet up in different corners of the world every year so we could fulfil both wanderlust and family togetherness, but at least for the present, the recession has put paid to that. She made a visit here for three weeks in December which was great, and the kids had a blast, but all in all, it seems too little.
Of course, it's not like she and I met our various assorted cousins too often. We lived in Delhi and most of them down South in Bangalore or thereabouts, so we met them annually, at best. But I always think of cousins and family reunions when it comes to summer vacations. I don't know if those were merely simpler or poorer times, when people didn't have the money to go stay in fancy locations in fancy hotels, and so visiting relatives was the default option for vacations.
We used to make an annual trip to the South, without fail. I still remember the lo-ong journey through Madras on the GT express. There used to be an 8 hour or so stop at Madras before we shunted off to Bangalore. Madras station would be stiflingly hot and humid, and reeking of fish. I used to loll around in a petticoat ( slip) and jump from berth to berth during the wait. Sometimes mom and I would get out and she'd souse me under the station pump to cool off.
Then later the KK express was introduced and we could go direct to Bangalore, and it seemed like the time was magically 'cut short' to some 40 hours. By the time we crossed Jolarpettai, I'd start wheezing. We'd pull in to Bangalore and one of mom's brothers or sometimes Thatha would be there to receive us and take us home. Enormous amounts of luggage would have to be managed - a brass tiffin carrier, a holdall, a big water jar and assorted suitcases.
Bangalore was a somewhat boring destination for me because there were no kids my age near ajji-thatha's house. I spent most of my time reading through thatha's extensive book collection and had waded through the unabridged Oliver Twist by age 6, out of sheer lack of alternatives. Thatha also had back issues of Reader's Digest dating back to the 50s and 60s, and I loved reading all the humour columns. There was a lovely club with a swimming pool just opposite their house, with a beautifulyl landscaped garden but I was not allowed to swim thanks to the asthma so I had to content myself by wandering around the lawns and making up stories.
We would do a round of visits to various relatives, including my aunts. My elder aunt, Vasanthi, loved to cook and would get so excited at seeing us she'd cook up a storm, But she was also absent minded. once when we were over, she was so busy chatting while we had lunch that she kept grating coconut for salad to go with lunch right until we were through with our food! She always had some interesting new food for us to try - like a Banana dosa - and always, but always had a stock of gulab jamuns on hand, because she loved them and knew I adored them.
My other aunt too was an enthusiastic cook, but more prone to making health food, so various kinds of leafy greens and salads would parade themselves before us at their place. Born with a green thumb, she had an awesome collection of Bonsais. Various relatives would offer that particularly Bangalorean beverage both to us and our parents - Bournvita/ Horlicks, in lieu of tea/ coffee.
But the real high point of summer holidays was going to Mysore where my paternal relatives stayed, including my cousins Nirupama and Kalyani. Nippu, as she's referred to, is just three months older than me and Kalyani was 6 years older than the two of us. We used to love the train ride to Mysore, especially the Maddur vadas that we stopped for enroute. My sister and I always used to pester to go home by horse cart rather than autos because they were so much more novel. The cart would trundle along to the clip-clop of the hooves down roads carpeted with bright red gulmohur flowers.
As soon as we reached my uncle's house, there would be a glad pandemonium, as everyone rushed to greet everyone else. The grownups would make as much noise as we kids. One aunt or other, or a cousin or uncle was always visiting. In the evenings, any one of a number of relatives would drop by as usual and spread the word that we had arrived. Then every day someone or other would land up, and there would be a spate of conversations, with old family skeletons and anecdotes being trotted out. At night, there would be sessions of '28', a strategy based card gamne, for penny points, interspersed by family gossip. Nippu used to curl up and go off to sleep at her usual hour but I used to stay up as late as possible, to be part of the action.
There would be a mandatory trip to the famous covered market. We usually had at least one expedition to Brindavan gardens, where we'd all pile into a rented van and go off for the day, and one outing to Chamundi Hills. A satyanarayana puje at the Raghavendra Swamy Matha was also a must, and we kids would dress up in our finery and keep making aimless trips from home to temple until the puje was over and we could relish the truly awesome food served there.
We kids had any amount of freedom to wander around by ourselves - something that I look back upon with envy, from the perspective of my poor city kids. We went off for picnics, including a mandatory outing to Kukkarahalli kere, followed by a meal at Ramya restaurant. We once went to a temple garden for a picnic and were chased by a bull - that was a famous incident where I fell under a moving car. We'd go to Jagan Mohan Palace to see the paintings, and to the Mysore Palace to look around. We'd go down 100 feet road to buy all manner of little knickknacks, and to the Technical Institute.
We were usually taken out by my cousins' next door neighbours, as their kids and we and my cousins all played together through the summer. They would take us in their Fiat, which made us feel very rich, to Lalit Mahal Palace grounds which were quite overgrown and had a wonderful view of Chamundi Hills, and then on to a meal at a restaurant where for some reason I always had Chhole Bhature.
My cousins and we spent the summer in all sorts of games, either in the temple opposite our house, or on the rooftop, concocting plays and dance performances that never saw the light of day. I'm not really sure what we did but the television was something that was never ever turned on. At mealtimes, the adults would eat first and then leave the table to us because they knew that given our habit of chattering and playing about, we'd be at it for hours.
They were wonderful summers, something we still reminisce about when we get together - so carefree, so aimless, so devoid of any structure or purpose nand yet so full. We used to weep when the train pulled away from Mysore station, and my uncle and cousins would also have brimming eyes. We looked forward to those summers every year and they never disappointed.
My kids had a rather sacked out summer this time. They went briefly to a summer camp of yoga and art, and then basically lazed around at home. A and I were at work and without ajji thatha to keep them busy, they had to find amusement for themselves - from drawing on doors and windows ( Puddi), to being prodded to complete summer homework( Chubbocks), to fighting with each other. We went swimming as often as we could, and all our weekends were spent in a pleasantly aimless manner.
I was happy for them to have an aimless summer sans any structure. I think it's so important for people to learn how to use their leisure time and to cherish it and it's best to begin when they are young. Chubbocks has now learned how to keep himself occupied, especially with his favourite occupation of reading, and I think it's been a fun summer for them.
My kids do have cousins - one in the US, the other in Canada, and will have one more, when my sister has a baby in October this year. But sadly, they hardly get to meet them, since they live so far away. Once in two years is the best that can be managed. My sister and I did have a plan to meet up in different corners of the world every year so we could fulfil both wanderlust and family togetherness, but at least for the present, the recession has put paid to that. She made a visit here for three weeks in December which was great, and the kids had a blast, but all in all, it seems too little.
Of course, it's not like she and I met our various assorted cousins too often. We lived in Delhi and most of them down South in Bangalore or thereabouts, so we met them annually, at best. But I always think of cousins and family reunions when it comes to summer vacations. I don't know if those were merely simpler or poorer times, when people didn't have the money to go stay in fancy locations in fancy hotels, and so visiting relatives was the default option for vacations.
We used to make an annual trip to the South, without fail. I still remember the lo-ong journey through Madras on the GT express. There used to be an 8 hour or so stop at Madras before we shunted off to Bangalore. Madras station would be stiflingly hot and humid, and reeking of fish. I used to loll around in a petticoat ( slip) and jump from berth to berth during the wait. Sometimes mom and I would get out and she'd souse me under the station pump to cool off.
Then later the KK express was introduced and we could go direct to Bangalore, and it seemed like the time was magically 'cut short' to some 40 hours. By the time we crossed Jolarpettai, I'd start wheezing. We'd pull in to Bangalore and one of mom's brothers or sometimes Thatha would be there to receive us and take us home. Enormous amounts of luggage would have to be managed - a brass tiffin carrier, a holdall, a big water jar and assorted suitcases.
Bangalore was a somewhat boring destination for me because there were no kids my age near ajji-thatha's house. I spent most of my time reading through thatha's extensive book collection and had waded through the unabridged Oliver Twist by age 6, out of sheer lack of alternatives. Thatha also had back issues of Reader's Digest dating back to the 50s and 60s, and I loved reading all the humour columns. There was a lovely club with a swimming pool just opposite their house, with a beautifulyl landscaped garden but I was not allowed to swim thanks to the asthma so I had to content myself by wandering around the lawns and making up stories.
We would do a round of visits to various relatives, including my aunts. My elder aunt, Vasanthi, loved to cook and would get so excited at seeing us she'd cook up a storm, But she was also absent minded. once when we were over, she was so busy chatting while we had lunch that she kept grating coconut for salad to go with lunch right until we were through with our food! She always had some interesting new food for us to try - like a Banana dosa - and always, but always had a stock of gulab jamuns on hand, because she loved them and knew I adored them.
My other aunt too was an enthusiastic cook, but more prone to making health food, so various kinds of leafy greens and salads would parade themselves before us at their place. Born with a green thumb, she had an awesome collection of Bonsais. Various relatives would offer that particularly Bangalorean beverage both to us and our parents - Bournvita/ Horlicks, in lieu of tea/ coffee.
But the real high point of summer holidays was going to Mysore where my paternal relatives stayed, including my cousins Nirupama and Kalyani. Nippu, as she's referred to, is just three months older than me and Kalyani was 6 years older than the two of us. We used to love the train ride to Mysore, especially the Maddur vadas that we stopped for enroute. My sister and I always used to pester to go home by horse cart rather than autos because they were so much more novel. The cart would trundle along to the clip-clop of the hooves down roads carpeted with bright red gulmohur flowers.
As soon as we reached my uncle's house, there would be a glad pandemonium, as everyone rushed to greet everyone else. The grownups would make as much noise as we kids. One aunt or other, or a cousin or uncle was always visiting. In the evenings, any one of a number of relatives would drop by as usual and spread the word that we had arrived. Then every day someone or other would land up, and there would be a spate of conversations, with old family skeletons and anecdotes being trotted out. At night, there would be sessions of '28', a strategy based card gamne, for penny points, interspersed by family gossip. Nippu used to curl up and go off to sleep at her usual hour but I used to stay up as late as possible, to be part of the action.
There would be a mandatory trip to the famous covered market. We usually had at least one expedition to Brindavan gardens, where we'd all pile into a rented van and go off for the day, and one outing to Chamundi Hills. A satyanarayana puje at the Raghavendra Swamy Matha was also a must, and we kids would dress up in our finery and keep making aimless trips from home to temple until the puje was over and we could relish the truly awesome food served there.
We kids had any amount of freedom to wander around by ourselves - something that I look back upon with envy, from the perspective of my poor city kids. We went off for picnics, including a mandatory outing to Kukkarahalli kere, followed by a meal at Ramya restaurant. We once went to a temple garden for a picnic and were chased by a bull - that was a famous incident where I fell under a moving car. We'd go to Jagan Mohan Palace to see the paintings, and to the Mysore Palace to look around. We'd go down 100 feet road to buy all manner of little knickknacks, and to the Technical Institute.
We were usually taken out by my cousins' next door neighbours, as their kids and we and my cousins all played together through the summer. They would take us in their Fiat, which made us feel very rich, to Lalit Mahal Palace grounds which were quite overgrown and had a wonderful view of Chamundi Hills, and then on to a meal at a restaurant where for some reason I always had Chhole Bhature.
My cousins and we spent the summer in all sorts of games, either in the temple opposite our house, or on the rooftop, concocting plays and dance performances that never saw the light of day. I'm not really sure what we did but the television was something that was never ever turned on. At mealtimes, the adults would eat first and then leave the table to us because they knew that given our habit of chattering and playing about, we'd be at it for hours.
They were wonderful summers, something we still reminisce about when we get together - so carefree, so aimless, so devoid of any structure or purpose nand yet so full. We used to weep when the train pulled away from Mysore station, and my uncle and cousins would also have brimming eyes. We looked forward to those summers every year and they never disappointed.
My kids had a rather sacked out summer this time. They went briefly to a summer camp of yoga and art, and then basically lazed around at home. A and I were at work and without ajji thatha to keep them busy, they had to find amusement for themselves - from drawing on doors and windows ( Puddi), to being prodded to complete summer homework( Chubbocks), to fighting with each other. We went swimming as often as we could, and all our weekends were spent in a pleasantly aimless manner.
I was happy for them to have an aimless summer sans any structure. I think it's so important for people to learn how to use their leisure time and to cherish it and it's best to begin when they are young. Chubbocks has now learned how to keep himself occupied, especially with his favourite occupation of reading, and I think it's been a fun summer for them.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Summer Holidays
If you live in any of india's big cities, you will find yourself inundated with ads and newspaper inserts advertising summer camps and activity centers for kids. And you will find many of them full to the brim of kids, all learning to do colouring or to sing songs or whatever. Whatever happened to the carefree schedule-free days of summer?
I don't know whether it's purely a function of working moms, because several of my son's classmates who have stay-at-home moms are also enrolled in these classes. Last year, after we got back from a 2 week vacation, we enrolled Chubbocks into a thrice-a-week three hours summer camp, because my mom was away in the US and I didn't want him drifting around with nothing to do. Yet I'm a bit upset that I did it because I think it's so important for kids to learn the art of simply being as well as amusing themselves.
As a mom, while I don't believe in 'quality time', I do believe in benign neglect. I think it does kids a world of good to just hang out in the same space as their parents, not necessarily being read to/ taught/ 'spoken to'/ made to do anything in particular which is meant to mark the time the parent spent with the kid as something special. When I look back at my own childhood, what I see is a string of days or a blurred period of time where we all hung out, chatted, fought, played, cried and laughed together. The undue emphasis on quality time just leads kids to think the world revolves around them and they never learn to just coexist in the same space as other people, without the warm shininess of a spotlight.
This summer, though I knew I wouldn't have too much time off, I didn't want to enrol Chubbocks into any classes, especially those that taught him anything. I think school is good enough for most things he wants or needs to learn. So we just put him into a dance class that's an hour twice a week, as some of his friends from school were joining up as well and that was that.
Of course, it has led to him moping around the house, as I feared. It's bizarre but he doesn't have any company around, despite the fact that the colony we live in is full of kids his age. That's because these days, parents just don't send their kids out to play because 'it's too hot'. I remember during my summer vacations, we were forever outside, jumping, running, shouting and playing, oblivious to the weather. We only came home for lunch and the afternoon nap and the evening too would pass in merry mayhem. The high point of a day would be a trip with parents to the India Gate lawns where we would chill on the cool grass near a fountain so some of the spray would fall on us, and have an ice cream or so ( me only the cone because I had bronchitis). There was nothing organised about our entertainment, and yet we managed very well, be it playing Blindman's Bluff or catch-catch, organising Telematch tournaments or playing hide and seek in the dim gardens that ran behind our homes. The local library was raided week after week, while old books were lent and borrowed. I made an entire set of posters of all my favourite comic book heroes - from Phantom to Mandrake to Richie Rich - to decorate my playroom, one summer.
I wonder if we as parents are becoming over-protective of our kids, in the process robbing them of the ability to think freely and learn to get along with the elements. Of course, no one wants kids to fall ill with heat stroke, but a bottle of water/ nimbu paani and a summer hat should be fine protection except during the dog-hours of noon, no? Even at birthday parties, the amusement is organised and orchestrated so that our poor kids lose the ability to come up with games for themselves. Can you imagine the well-groomed kids you see at a typical birthday party coming up with anything as subversive and creative as Calvin-Ball?
I hate the words, "I'm bored", and have banned them from our house. I can't remember being bored once, though we used to have few books or games at home and of course television didn't come into our home until we were much older. This generation of kids, with so many toys and books and games, still manages to find the time to get bored. How?
Chubbocks has managed his vacation time okay so far, between hanging out with his grandparents and writing out little notes on his doodlepad. Now we have my cousin visiting, with her kids, so that's a new source of enjoyment for Chubbocks. next year i'm planning to definitely take 3 weeks off during summer so that even if we don't go anywhere, I'm there for my kids to hang out with. And yet i'm clear that I don't want to be organising anything - camp or playdate. I want them to find their own playtimes and games, with each other or by themselves, though I'm never averse to jumping into a puddle of water.
"What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare
No time to stand beneath the bows
And stare as long as sheep or cows...?
I don't know whether it's purely a function of working moms, because several of my son's classmates who have stay-at-home moms are also enrolled in these classes. Last year, after we got back from a 2 week vacation, we enrolled Chubbocks into a thrice-a-week three hours summer camp, because my mom was away in the US and I didn't want him drifting around with nothing to do. Yet I'm a bit upset that I did it because I think it's so important for kids to learn the art of simply being as well as amusing themselves.
As a mom, while I don't believe in 'quality time', I do believe in benign neglect. I think it does kids a world of good to just hang out in the same space as their parents, not necessarily being read to/ taught/ 'spoken to'/ made to do anything in particular which is meant to mark the time the parent spent with the kid as something special. When I look back at my own childhood, what I see is a string of days or a blurred period of time where we all hung out, chatted, fought, played, cried and laughed together. The undue emphasis on quality time just leads kids to think the world revolves around them and they never learn to just coexist in the same space as other people, without the warm shininess of a spotlight.
This summer, though I knew I wouldn't have too much time off, I didn't want to enrol Chubbocks into any classes, especially those that taught him anything. I think school is good enough for most things he wants or needs to learn. So we just put him into a dance class that's an hour twice a week, as some of his friends from school were joining up as well and that was that.
Of course, it has led to him moping around the house, as I feared. It's bizarre but he doesn't have any company around, despite the fact that the colony we live in is full of kids his age. That's because these days, parents just don't send their kids out to play because 'it's too hot'. I remember during my summer vacations, we were forever outside, jumping, running, shouting and playing, oblivious to the weather. We only came home for lunch and the afternoon nap and the evening too would pass in merry mayhem. The high point of a day would be a trip with parents to the India Gate lawns where we would chill on the cool grass near a fountain so some of the spray would fall on us, and have an ice cream or so ( me only the cone because I had bronchitis). There was nothing organised about our entertainment, and yet we managed very well, be it playing Blindman's Bluff or catch-catch, organising Telematch tournaments or playing hide and seek in the dim gardens that ran behind our homes. The local library was raided week after week, while old books were lent and borrowed. I made an entire set of posters of all my favourite comic book heroes - from Phantom to Mandrake to Richie Rich - to decorate my playroom, one summer.
I wonder if we as parents are becoming over-protective of our kids, in the process robbing them of the ability to think freely and learn to get along with the elements. Of course, no one wants kids to fall ill with heat stroke, but a bottle of water/ nimbu paani and a summer hat should be fine protection except during the dog-hours of noon, no? Even at birthday parties, the amusement is organised and orchestrated so that our poor kids lose the ability to come up with games for themselves. Can you imagine the well-groomed kids you see at a typical birthday party coming up with anything as subversive and creative as Calvin-Ball?
I hate the words, "I'm bored", and have banned them from our house. I can't remember being bored once, though we used to have few books or games at home and of course television didn't come into our home until we were much older. This generation of kids, with so many toys and books and games, still manages to find the time to get bored. How?
Chubbocks has managed his vacation time okay so far, between hanging out with his grandparents and writing out little notes on his doodlepad. Now we have my cousin visiting, with her kids, so that's a new source of enjoyment for Chubbocks. next year i'm planning to definitely take 3 weeks off during summer so that even if we don't go anywhere, I'm there for my kids to hang out with. And yet i'm clear that I don't want to be organising anything - camp or playdate. I want them to find their own playtimes and games, with each other or by themselves, though I'm never averse to jumping into a puddle of water.
"What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare
No time to stand beneath the bows
And stare as long as sheep or cows...?
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