Out of the mouths of babes: uncomfortable questions, anyone?

A very sober-faced Mahi was pulling the clips out of her hair upstairs and getting ready for her bath. A very sober-faced Mahi was pulling the clips out of her hair upstairs and getting

ready for her bath. “Amma?” “What happened, Mahi?” “Today when we were coming back from school, one lady carrying a baby came and kept knocking on the window. Uncle shook his head (‘Uncle’

was our driver). She was moving her hand like this (she mimicked a hand-to-mouth motion). Why was she doing that?” “She would have been poor and maybe hungry Mahi.” “Then why didn’t Uncle

give her anything?” I always dreaded this sort of question. I had no idea how to explain the idea of poverty or how in India, there was so much of it that eradication was not a possibility

in my lifetime at least. I also didn’t know how to clarify that I didn’t believe in giving money to the beggars at the signals but would rather give food of some kind. It was too complicated

and too fraught with potential traps to answer honestly. “Mahi, Uncle didn’t give her money because then she would come and do the same thing again and again — so would the others watching

her. Maybe we can give some bread or biscuits the next time. Would you like that?” “Okay but I have an idea.” “Let’s hear it then.” “Well, they could become our guests, no?” “What? I mean,

why?” “Then we can give them good food to eat.” “Who will take care of them Mahi?” “They can take care of themselves. The lady will take care of her baby.” “Hmm — well who will do all the

cooking?” “You have to do it but the lady will help.” “And who will take care of the baby? What if she cries?” “I will take care of the baby Amma. Don’t worry.” Stifling a grin from

picturing her in a maternal role, I asked more questions to test her. “What if they are not clean or they are ill?” “Well, you know no one uses my bathroom these days. We can give them that

and they can get clean. And you can take my money to take them to the doctor when they are sick. I have four hundred monies.” “Of course – I understand now. And where will they sleep?” “In

Ammamma’s room downstairs.” I pictured my mother’s horrified face when she returned from my sister’s house to find her room taken and started laughing out loud. “Where will my mother stay

then?” “She can stay in Rathu’s house – she is there anyway.” Having consigned her grandmother very casually to her cousin’s house for eternity, she felt she had solved all my issues. “Amma,

one more idea.” “Oh no!” “There are so many poor people in Bangalore. We can send them to Mangalore.” “Huh? Why?” “Well here the people are not nice and they are letting them be poor,no? My

friend in school told me Mangalore is a good place – maybe the people there will take care of them. Then they can be happy.” “It is a nice thought sweetheart.” She then changed topics and

rattled off a story about two plastic stools and a security guard. I was still thinking of all the thoughts she had just poured out. Here I was, a woman who had never been able to even take

house guests for more than a week and who always needed ‘space’ and quiet and here was my daughter who wanted to help the whole world. I used to be like her when I was small – always feeling

sad when I saw a poor child on the street but I never put in so much thought to finding a solution like she did. She had thought out every angle and even said that if the baby didn’t fall

sick too often , maybe there would be enough money in her piggy bank to pay for her school. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and my daughter’s economic policies but the very idea that

she so easily forgot that she was saving money for a coveted toy and decided to use it for someone else really touched me. I had never thought that way in so many years. Now my life was

about my family and such a narrow world that was! I may not be able to offer my house as my daughter would like but at least the next time around, I can offer something. My daughter’s simple

words made me want to open my heart just that little bit more – after all I firmly believe that she and her brother were put on earth to teach me how to be a better human being. And so far

she has been doing a pretty decent job of it! Now all I have to do is live up to her expectations. I am working on it... _An occasional software engineer and an aspiring writer, Nair is

currently being taught about life by her awesome twosome. _