Little Typhoon in the kennel.

The little Typhoon and the new arrival did not go well together – she was afraid of the puppy and in equal measure the puppy reciprocated the same feeling. She maintained a more than an adequate ‘snapping’ distance and it just closed its eyes as if to wish away her presence, after retreating to a safe corner. The whole affair was based on the Little Typhoon’s misunderstanding of the intention of the dog, a she-puppy. The puppy, rudely separated from its mother was only trying to strike a friendship in trying to come over its melancholy and longing to see its mother. It felt abandoned when its mother did not come searching for her and was sad that the members in the household were not cuddling or fondling her with affection. She even tried to call attention by whimpering or whining – the result was same, inaction and apathy.

As the dog days passed, the pup started taking tours of the front porch, the cluttered space beneath the stair case designated as her kennel or when extremely bored, she just climbed one or two steps on the staircase and simply slept there. Having nothing worthwhile to do (lazy to swat  flies, snap at squirrels or cats) nor any body bothering to teach her ‘sit”, ‘stand’ or ‘shake hand’ the puppy started spending more time on the steps, to loll and doze. Occasionally she took great pleasure in playing with the empty food bowl or bowl filled with water.  The only time she enjoyed human nearness.

The step became the lying-in-wait trouble spot for me and the Little Typhoon. She had to use the stairs to meet me and whenever an attempt was made, the puppy eagerly advanced to meet her half-way. Misunderstanding the gesture of friendship as aggressive posturing, Little Typhoon lets out a shriek shaking the very foundation of the building. Hurrying down, I rescue her by pulling away the dog by its scruff. The same drama had to be repeated, in the reverse trip down the steps. Both of us got a little exercise in the bargain – my legs and her vocal cords. Whatever tricks I tried, she chose to retain her canine phobia.

Slowly and ever slowly, shedding innocence she had started asserting her own way with things – animals and objects. Questioning, grasping the phenomenon explained and coming up with ‘out of box logic’ (her version of what she wanted to say). To put it in a nut shell - the sessions were, A to Z of entertainment. Ever looking for an opportunity to teach some thing more or difficult, for her age, I took her through the process of single digit, double digit or three digit additions of numerals. For a kid of about three years, when we met, the learning curve was on a supersonic flight.

Little Typhoon understood the significance of ‘zero’ placed before a number or after a number, - with out realising the trouble I was going to get in to - at a future date. This hind sight of mine is troubling you, is it not? Bear with me for a while; you will come to know the story.

Might be coincidence or not – the puppy, started acting as bridge in developing our friendship – on a build, operate and transfer basis. Who needed the friendship is beside the point and the passing years proved it to be mutually beneficial.

Typhoon climbed a rung in her academic ladder (1st standard) and by this time the puppy had grown into a dog stature. Little Typhoon slowly got used to the hulking doggy and understood that their pet dog does not even care to bark at strangers leave alone biting one. With this new found revelation, she started doing callisthenics (bending and hopping) in around the vicinity of the dog which continued to watch with out taking any active part – needless to say the dog as more inertia now! The dog’s exercise was limited to carrying the weight of the metal leash around her neck and shifting physically from one location to another for resting. She had never enjoyed the joy of catching a fly, snapping at butterflies or chasing a squirrel or a sparrow.

For once the members of the household showed a little concern for the doggy - to find a male suitor for her and allow her to attain motherhood. Word of mouth spread and on one fine day a kennel owner came forward to offer assistance. His condition was that he has to personally visit and assess the worthiness of the she-dog before admitting her in to his kennel. The girth impressed him and he finalised the affair – the fee shall be one male and one female pups.  I still could not understand how he was so sure that there would be enough new born puppies to leave some for the doggy – might be a clairvoyant!  In due course the she-dog gave birth to 3 male and 4 female puppies.

The birth of the puppies itself was accidentally noticed by the maid servant after seeing a mass of puppies lying beside the doggy. Loosing her faith on the members of the household, she had simply gone ahead and delivered with out even a whimper. The kennel owner took over the task of bringing up the puppies in the right way till they opened their eyes and are able to manage themselves. Diet instructions were handed over in writing after each visit as if he was a medical doctor on house calls. He had his investment to take care of and that he did with out any reservation. The instructions remained stuck on the fridge, gathering dust.

Little Typhoon understood the business end of the deal only after some time and felt sorry for the pack of dogs. By that time she had started to cuddle and fondle the puppies in her spare time (read morning to evenings on holidays and whenever possible on school days). Becoming more confident, she now took it up on herself to teach them whatever she had learnt in school that day. She had eight confused students to cope up with. Most of her students were teetering and swaggering on the porch floor, yet to open their eyes in full, to get a dog’s eye view of their teacher!

Little Typhoon continued her coaching efforts. Every free hour, she sat in front of her pupils with a slate and chalk piece .She wrote a number, said it aloud a few times and not getting any where, wrote the same on the floor. ‘Bigger letters are easier to recognise’ she might have thought. But her pupils were not that keen to say yes or no (1+7) for the shown numeral ‘7’

The she-dog might have forgotten her motherly instincts- too much of negligence and inertia had made her uncaring for the life in this world, chained to a leash. In sleep she turned her bulk over, on one of the puppies and smothered it to death. No whimper over the child lost! The driver of the household made the discovery and buried the dead. The litter came down to two males and four females. Like their mother, the puppies also did not make a sound at meal time. Little Typhoon’s class strength came down to 7 (just 1+6) and was attempting to teach them ‘6’.

Next week, one more of the puppies bid goodbye- death due to starvation, a she-puppy (1+2 +3).

Seeing their plight, the car driver wanted to at least rear one of them but the request was turned down. Undaunted the class teacher spared no efforts to make them familiar with the numeral ‘5’, written on the floor. Neither the she-dog nor the Little Typhoon could understand how such a count-down thing could happen?

The schooling for kennel population went on for some more time with a steady attendance- the puppies simply refused to attend the call of death. The numeral ‘5’ was found written every where- on the floor, steps and even on the walls.

This part of the story I was not aware of, as the subject of dog or the puppies never came up in our discussions – quite unusual! Not only the pack but I have also misunderstood the significance of the numerals, in the descending order. I have been seeing them but not taking note of them.

The kid with whom I had a reasonable rapport has suddenly started to speak in a foreign tongue. I had been away for nearly two months and a lot of things must have happened, including the frequency difference, along with her thinking process.

Again, I had the same feeling (call it hind sight, once more!) -the doggy and her puppies are going to trouble me one day or the other. Little did I realise that, ‘that’ some day will be one day in the next few days?

In a breathless voice she asked ‘why they are not learning and how many times do I have to teach’. Was this a question or a statement? I was confused. Gently I asked her to tell me the matter. Instead of answering me she again repeated the same thing but added ’I am disappointed and getting irritated. ‘No’ answer is the right answer; unless it is right.’ Still not knowing on whom and over what, I told her unless you tell me the whole story, how can I help.

For the first time, she narrated her teaching experience in the kennel and informed about the subjects troubling her. Then the significance of the descending numerals struck me like a truncheon. What eluded me was the way - she was teaching them the numerals, in the descending order!. She explained,” When 7 puppies were there I wanted them to point out the number 7 on the floor; one puppy died and I wrote number 6 on the wall; then one more died and the number to be recognised was 5. Yesterday, the dog-man had come and took two and when I wrote 3 on the floor they just kept looking at me. Will you not get upset if they do like this?”

That little head had these many numerical problems to workout. How to convince her that dogs don’t count!

Based on a quick head count and subsequent deductions, I found that she had not included the she-dog in her reckoning of numbers. Using this opening, I asked her why she had not included the puppies’ mother in counting. I was quietly bemused as confusing thoughts rushed through her mind.

She told me the story heard from her grandmother of ignorant chela's. ‘The guru and his six chela's were trying to cross a river. To keep them thinking and to test them, the guru asked a question. He wanted to know how many of them are travelling together. Each one of his chela's replied ‘six’. Each had omitted to count himself and came to the wrong conclusion’.

Little Typhoon told me ‘the pack in the kennel might be like the chela's. Not to be surprised, I myself taught them to count one number less than the actual’. She demanded to know “why they are not saying anything?” .A brilliant performance to cover up her failure.

Having understood that two of the puppies will soon find themselves in a new kennel, I said,    ”May be the she-dog and the puppies know this. They appeared to be more intelligent than the chela's, in not rushing in with a wrong answer.”

To soften the effect of her failed attempts, I asked, “Why bother so much? Her matter of fact reply revealed her current state of mind – “I am still bothered because she cannot count”

Somehow she got convinced by my counselling and left saying “I will start the classes afresh, when everything has settled down”

Poor dog and the left over puppies! They didn't know what was in store for them.

Opinion Maker II

In her opinion I am a space scientist - broken pepper coloured beard and a sparse bristles of hair on the head (never wants to say I am bald!) must have made her to think so. All of my space knowledge put together amounts to – naming a few planets (even if wrong, she would not know), odd constellations of stars and recalling myths surrounding them and weather permitting to point them out to her at nights.

But that was enough for her to decide that I am what she wants me to be. The kid who does not know yet to count beyond 1000, was eager to plunge in to the depths of deep space in the order of millions of kilometres. Naturally the numerals followed by number of zeroes catches up with her to confuse. It is a pity that the animated serials she watches, non-stop, on TV have no time to deal with these cipher matters!

The Little Typhoon, who fancies herself as a Jurassic park kid, wanted to know, why such hype is being raised about the Indian Mars Orbiter Mission. Organised kid as she was, she folded the Newspaper to keep my focus on the photograph taken during the lift-off of the Launch Vehicle. She described it as an anaconda like flame and smoke pushing the vehicle skywards. The simplest of depictions for a complex launch event.

The graphics detailing the relative positions of Earth, Sun and Mars followed by the multiple elliptical orbits were too ahead of her. But with a never to say die spirit, she wanted them to be explained one by one. Was it a spot test of sorts to decide whether to keep the tag ‘space scientist’ with me or not, I did not know.

After hearing my explanations- as we write in any official forms, to the best of my knowledge, she had a serious doubt: why it takes 300 days to reach Mars? With the help of the graphics, she just showed me, and play-acting, I could somehow make her to under stand that there are many zeroes involved, in the distance the Orbiter has to travel. Explaining beyond a certain extent now caught me in a trap.

Even after about 45 minutes of travel, the Orbiter could only cross over the Pacific Ocean (this kid goes for whaling expeditions in her dreams) and how it is going to cover the rest of the distance- numeral followed by many zeroes ( nice take- simply reproduced what I said earlier!)?

She then proceeded to pick out the flaws in the whole space programme (Mangalyaan) and her reasoning, for the sake of reasoning, was …..

(1). Instead of going vertically upwards, the satellite has travelled around earth, wasting energy. (2) Human being or a satellite cannot keep on running, non-stop, for 300 days – a wrong thinking. (3) The launch vehicle should have lifted off in the night and not in the afternoon, as at present and (4) Instead of going to Mars, it would have been easier to go to the Sun – bigger and visible.

Now, the space scientist in me woke up with a vengeance, at being belittled by the Little Typhoon. From my body language, like a iconic batsman changing grip on his bat to batter the leather globe all over the park, she braced herself to weather the space debris. Like a double-draw Wild West shooter, she gathered the Newspaper and her pictorial encyclopaedia – Visual Dictionary.

For her first point, I told her that it was done to achieve a specific positioning of the satellite and on technical reasons. In space every thing is done by using as little energy as possible.

For the second point, explanations given with the help of Newton’s laws did not convince her as no tangible proof could be furnished. But she was quick to point a finger at me and said, “How I can believe whatever he says; though he was a ‘Sir’ and yet he was not your teacher, am I right or not”?

Her logic for the third point left me wondering. I thought probably, the scientists in the launch team wanted Mars to capture the Orbiter at an auspicious moment in the day time (the length of a day being almost equal). Or could it be to avoid the line-of-sight obstruction from Diemos and Phobos transiting   across the Red Planet?

Unable to hold my curiosity any more, I asked her why she said like that. An expert in turning the tables around, she reminded me that it was me who told her that planets & stars are visible in the night sky. The other scientists also know this. Then why they decided to launch the rocket in the afternoon?

  

I understood at that moment that a child might grasp complex things easily and trip intellectuals with a simple question. Whatever answer I would have given on that day, might be only to justify the followed course of action. I might have lacked courage to agree and say “Yes, they could have launched it in the night”.

What would you have done, in my place?

The Opinion Maker.

The little Typhoon, study holidays are not, loved to discuss every thing but her academic activities in school. Probing questions, if asked, are expertly deflected like a seasoned ‘neta’ or an economic ‘pundit’ – in vague terms.

Whatever it is, her visits are like that of comets, periodic and mostly predictable. On one such a visit, she found me serious, pen poised over a blank paper, eyes staring fixedly at an imaginary spot on the wall and sitting like a statue.

I was struggling to complete a write up and she was determined not to allow me to do so. Otherwise, she had to come back at another time. It was highly un- acceptable and running counter current to her plans of swimming along with the flow to have fun.

Fearing no consequences, she went about disturbing my ‘tapas’ - pulling out the papers, snatching the pen and then standing in front of my unseeing eyes to block the wall out of sight. I lost my focus and she had the stage set.

The first object she noticed was a Visual dictionary. She riffled through the pages and stopped to look at the topic (pictures) under formation of mountains. Naturally, she wanted to know how these mountains were formed in the first place.

Welcoming the diversion, I started to demonstrate the concept of mountain formation. I folded my hands at the elbow, kept them parallel to the ground, palms facing downwards and at about chest level. Then, I asked her to stand in front of me and watch carefully the palms facing the ground. Both she did - without a demur. Surprise number one!

As she watched, I brought my palms nearer, and stopped when the middle fingers touched each other. She confirmed the contact, in a jubilant voice, usually heard from a mission control centre announcing the completion of a critical manoeuvre.

Then, I started gently pushing my palms against each other, from the wrist portion, keeping the rest of my arm –elbow to wrist joint, rigid and parallel to the ground.

After completely folding my palms together, I paused for awhile, so that she will get a mind’s picture of the folded palms. Then I let in the concept that, in a similar fashion, the mountains were created by the natural movement and collision of tectonic plates against each other.

A heavy subject and inept handling must have made her to loose track of the concept. This became evident when, after a long silence, she simply stated that I had shown her a ‘namaste’ and not a mountain formation.

She had formed her own opinion about the issue and stated it boldly - Earth was made in to dough and then God pulled up lumps here and there to make mountains. He put them in different places so that all of us can look at these mountains. Surprise number two!

The next few pages contained pictures of ocean, clouds and rivers in flow. Her doubt was how the rivers got the water supply? Here I had a doubt – whether she would ask such questions in the class room?

Using the illustrations, I explained about evaporation of water from the oceans, transport of vapour in to the atmosphere, cooling & forming into cloud masses. I let her know that rain bearing clouds will be grey or deep grey and just formed clouds will appear snow white. On further cooling, the water vapour in the clouds condenses and falls as rain – I completed my narration.

She accepted that rain comes from grey or deep grey clouds but had reservations about the source of water in the clouds. By her logic, the grey and white colour of the clouds did not match with the source - bluish or greenish appearing ocean water (courtesy the idiot box?).

Seeing predicament writ all over my face, she ventured to offer her own opinions about rain, grey & snow white clouds. Clouds are made in the sky. Grey and white clouds mix together, get purified and fall down as rain. To add further weight to her argument, she said that water in the ocean always remains there and it cannot go up. Only rain water can come down like in a shower bath!

Simply stated – clouds are not made with ocean water but rain water is made in the clouds. Can any logic beat this opinion maker’s opinion?

(This is where I laughed…fun unlimited)

The next interest turned out to be on ships and boats of modern and medieval times. Remembering her recent boat trip, to a nearby island, her face lit up like Christmas tree. She excitedly narrated how the knife in front of the boat tore the water and helped it to go faster and faster. She had already firmed up an opinion, logical or otherwise, that the observed phenomenon of prow wake was nothing but the effect of water being cut with a knife. I kept quite with out offering any explanation.

Lack of response is not taken kindly by this opinion maker. Deciding to educate me a little, she patiently explained “vegetables are cut with a knife, butter & bread is sliced with a knife. In the same way the boat cuts water with a knife - that is all”

After setting my thinking straight, she just left me alone to contemplate on these issues- her perspective opinions. I simply lost my sanity on the examples and arguments used to explain her view point (read opinion).

I restarted the struggle, to catch my inspiration train, after gathering the papers, pen and then focusing my eyes on the wall. Focusing proved futile after the brainstorming session the opinion maker had with me.

Power Point Presentation & Persuasion.

The brown matter in Little Typhoon’s head must be a perpetual cauldron of ideas & strategies. She has four bargaining counters namely (a) pleading (b) pleasing (c) probing and (d) pressurising. When in need and the other person is unresponsive she uses these techniques.

For the past few days we did not meet each other and this must have brought her up to my room. She stood silently for awhile, feigning shyness and all the while trying to draw my attention. The moment I acknowledged her presence, the fun began.

The Calendar Girl:

For some inexplicable reason, the origami specialist has turned in to a paper shredding machine. Her philosophy had become “any paper that needs shredding needs me”

I gently chided her and told her that whenever a paper is torn, a branch of a tree dies somewhere. I could hear her mental gears shifting in her head. I was little prepared for the Q & A session that followed.

She: Some one has already cut the branches to make this paper. Why that branch should die once again when I tear this paper?

Me: That time the branches will be half-dead and they will now be dead for sure.

She: Can you show me the “dead for sure branch” If I tear this paper now?

Me: That particular branch might be anywhere in this country and I don’t know where it will be. Then how can I show you?

She: If I don’t know where it will be and if I cannot see it, then how can I believe whatever you are saying?

Sensing that I am getting in to a quagmire, I diverted her attention to do something useful on the paper, at least, before tearing it.

Quickly she asked, “How doing something useful on this paper will prevent the branch from becoming “dead for sure”?”

I closed my eyes and remained silent for a while. Thinking that I have started meditating, she silently left the room.

This tranquillity lasted exactly 10 minutes and 12 seconds. In came the Little Typhoon with a paper and proudly offered it for my scrutiny. I saw 56 squares neatly arranged in 8 rows. Columns and rows were hued with select colours. 

The numbers 1 to 31 have been written inside the boxes. The top three rows had days of the week written in her mother tongue, Hindi and English. Above these rows she had written “DECEMBER   2013” in English.

When I finished looking at it, she told me that she had drawn a calendar. I immediately checked to match the days and dates of Dec’13. 

Finding no fault in the work, I asked her why she had not written the month in the three languages.

Again she floored me with her answer. In any language the month will be pronounced almost the same! 

Oh, what a simple philosophy!

At the bottom of the sheet, she had pencilled her class and section. To top it all, she had scrawled her signature like a grownup!

The Poser:

She was a reluctant subject. She once told me, “neither your camera is good nor the photos”.  Yet, I liked to capture her ever changing mood with my cell camera. 

After a session, she will snatch the cell phone and view the photos in zoom, tilt and pan modes. Like a film director, wielding a megaphone, she would say “cut it” or “store it”

I have never imagined that this little Typhoon will be a veritable question bank. As far as she was concerned hesitantly asking is a doubt and boldly asking the same is a question. 

This kid never hesitates, so doubts also sound like questions. With practice I have learned to spot these landmines.

After a botched session of photography, she probably thought about infusing life in to the session or whatever was left of it.

She started with a simple question. “When I pose for a photograph today, I am 5 years old. If I look at this photograph when I am 15 will this photograph look like me then?

All these years, I never thought that, a child could, ask such a loaded question. Every one of us has accepted, intuitively, that pictures remain the same only on the day they were taken or drawn. 

How to explain this “doubt” asked as a question? Any loophole, another question (actually a doubt) will be fired.

I carefully worded my reply. Living things like persons, birds, plants, fishes and animals grow old and age. All will undergo changes with age.

She fell silent for a moment and I thought a happy ending is nearing. The next question she asked was as loaded as the first one.

“If I take a photograph of the “dead for sure” branch, keep both in my house and look at them after 10 years, will they look like the same as before?

Seeing my perplexed look, she explained that some time back I only told her that, living things grow old and change. A doosra & teesra fused in to one to flummox a batsman. 

Then she declared confidently that the “dead for sure” branch and its photograph should look alike as dead thing don’t change.

This is the ultimate in philosophical teaching! How would I have explained to her the morbid details, a living thing undergoes, of the life after death.

The Teacher:

Two geneses were the eye of this stormy session.

Gen1:

When I was about to go out, the Typhoon breezed in and requested me to bring her a pouch for keeping papers. She volunteered the information that she had run out of foolscap papers to keep in them – a two-in-one affair, nicely done. 

I could guess that she wanted these things because I was using them.

She got the folder & papers. I showed her how to insert a paper in to the designated packet. That was enough; she completed inserting the remaining papers herself.

The transparency of the packets thrilled her and was immensely pleased with her possession. Secretly, I was hoping that she would draw sketches on the papers and insert them back and show everybody her handiwork – like a painting display in a gallery.

I mentally calculated that all these things will be done with in the next 24 hours. Little did I realize that the 24 hours were too long for her when the bug has bitten!

Not belying my expectations on the time as well as the display, she walked in, like a kitten smacking its lips after secretly dipping in to a bowl of milk.

But the display was very disappointing as she had drawn only some squares and had written “dict” in each of them. 

At the top of the paper she had written: Time Table” and at the bottom her class and section. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, I asked her what is “dict” and why is it written inside all the squares?

That gave her the opening she was waiting for. She made me the student and designated herself as my teacher. It had become the case of inviting extreme trouble.

She went ahead saying, “Now I am your class teacher and will dictate now. Take this pencil and start writing” Military commands delivered like gun shots.

Pausing for a moment she said, “ No erasing allowed ,so don’t make mistakes” The session lasted nearly an hour and during that she dictated words, I wrote them, she chided me for imaginary mistakes – improper looping or failing to cross the “t” and dot on  “i” and “j” properly!. 

Without waiting for a reply, she would snatch the paper, erase the offending letter and ask me to rewrite it properly. 

She would stroke her chin with a pencil or twirl it between her fingers and watch her student at work. 

My agony was mercifully cut short, when her mother came in search of the missing child (read mischievous child).

She understood my plight and chided me gently for pampering the kid too much. Then she explained the gen 2.

Gen 2:

It appeared that the kid’s teacher made the children to practice to spell the words in the dictation class. The Little Typhoon, who was always looking for a chance, caught hold of this idea for implementing it on elders.

She dictated and failed (marks) her grandfather, grand mother, father & mother for the sheer fun of it. Her students showed lack of interest and that was why she had singled me out for the drill – the martinet.

Grandchildren or a grandchild, kids are a pleasure to teach, learn from and play with. The kid and you can easily go to the paradise and comeback pleased, that is, whenever the kid wants.

Little Typhoon Strikes Back. -80-

The young typhoon was just let loose from the school, conveniently camouflaged as study holidays. What struck me odd was why someone like her needs holidays to study? That too this Typhoon will only indulge in various other activities, other than the intended one.

Sure, she will have plans to study in depth, the capacity and knowledge of others (read me – the Muser) in her own inimitable style.

The activities listed in her mental calendar would have been something like this (compiled with hindsight, of course):

Day 1: Garden plants

I explained to her how plants make their own food – because she always used say that “I made this or that” The discussion started with leaf structure, chlorophyll, sun light, water, co2 and the process of photosynthesis.

Why the leaves appear green, composition of light, VIBGYOR (rainbow) and then I explained to her that the leaf takes in VIBYOR and rejects G, VIBGYOR-G=VIBYOR. The G is now the color of the leaf.

Rapt attention, thinking and then she asked this question: if the sun light has only VIBYOR then what the plants will do?

If we illuminate the garden with VIBYOR light, then how the plants will look like … Green?

For both, I did not know the answer. End of Botanical session and on Day 1, she won!

Day 2: Examples generally, used, in speaking

I was telling her that a particular locality is within 2km ,as the crow flies.

Seizing the chance, she questioned, “How can you say that the distance is within 2 km, as the crow flies?”

I let her know that “The crow flies by shortest distance that is why”

Still, not convinced she said, “The crows as they fly, move to left or right and never in a straight line?”

Becoming a little concerned, I clarified “Exactly that is all I said”

Confused she queried again, “but you just now said they fly in a straight line?”

To which I replied, “Yes, now listen. Can you walk in a straight line on the road? Now and then don’t you step aside to the right or left? Likewise, the crow also tries to maintain a straight line as it flies”.

She stumped me by asking, “Show me one crow that flies straight and then only I will believe that crows fly in a straight line!” Day Two ended in a draw.

Day3: Doubts
She came with a well rehearsed question. She wanted to know why tutoring is required when one is attending school.

Not to introduce other ideas in to her imaginative mind, I explained to her that a farmer prepares the fields, plants saplings, and waters & manures them till harvest time. This way each seed sown gives him many grains.

Similarly, tutoring is nothing but a continuing study and the time invested now will get her good marks in the exams.

After a few moments of silence, a salvo of doubts poured out.
1. Farmer gets more grains from one seed. Likewise, more time on the same subject should get me more time only and not marks.
2. What I will do with more time, re-invest and get some more time?

Do I see a banker, in the making? Stunned I became silent. Should have held my tongue, knowing that girl, but conversationally I slipped and cited the example “What you sow is what you reap”. Yes, in my case it turned out to be 100% right.

Thus ended a close encounter on Day 3, in which she won.

Day 4: Further doubts

Targeting the animal kingdom, she thoughtfully brought an Encyclopedia for reference. You are wondering as to what is her age, is it not?

I don’t because of the above said “what you sow is what you reap” example. We had spent considerable time on turning the pages and even before that she had fed herself with a diet of Jurassic Park animals, Triassic Park ( park added by me for rhyming) animals etc.

Which is the strongest – dinosaurs, brontosaurs, megalosaurus? Where all those animals have gone?  What is meant by strong? – These are her doubts.

After hearing all the soul stirring explanations, on the extinction of these animals by huge asteroid impacts, continental drifts and severe climatic changes etc, she stopped me in my tracks by simply saying “Yesterday, I saw many dinosaurs” (must have been in TV !)

This left me wondering whether she has any further doubts like this! She condescended to say “no further doubts” saving me for the day.

She claimed yet another victory and concluded Day 4.

Day 5:  General Knowledge

She came in, with mischief written large over her face. That look warned me of a tripping session – objective, as always, to catch me sporting a blink. This child can beat Cray-XK6, any day. From previous answers she can deftly frame questions for a later session. This is, probably, her secret of being a perpetual Q-Bank.

Q1: Who found VIBGYOR in the sun light?
A1: A great scientist called Sir Isaac Newton.

Q2; why you are calling him Sir, was he your teacher?
A2: No. He was honoured with a “Sir” title by the Queen of England.

Q3. How am I able to see things?
A3: Light reflected from the things travel in to your eyes and falls on the retina. That is how you see them.

Q4. Who invented the Telephone?
A4. Alexander Bell.

Q5. Was he your teacher?
A5. No. why are you asking me like that?

She explained – Sir Isaac Newton was not your teacher. There is no ‘Sir’ for Alexander Bell; hence, I thought he might have been your teacher. I was left speechless, wondering what a bright idea Typhoon ji!

Q6. Who invented Idly?  On this question, I lost Day 5

I silently cursed the School Authorities, for declaring study holidays for this kid. She sure must be kept there for special classes - very comfortable and at a safe distance from me.

The Sounding Board.

Sounding board technique is used to collect views from others who matter. The “sounder”, then fine tunes his/her thinking. Trusted persons and well wishers act as the Sounding Board.

On various occasions, the little typhoon has employed this technique on me, for altogether different purposes – mischievous acts.  I used to wonder where from she has picked up that wisdom or was she born with it!

The little Typhoon always carried with her a bag of tricks – stuffed with odds & ends for the play in mind. Grapevine has it, that she has 20 such bags ready for use as the mood demanded.

Be it a tuition class or surgical session or scaremongering (or) starting a mini war – she was ready with an earmarked bag.

In her vernacular dictionary (Telugu), “us” means “me” after some time.

Does it appear a little perplexing? Let me explain. To start with she will say “let us do it” and the moment her doubts are cleared (or) a procedure has been partially  understood, she will drop the “us” like hot potatoes and start using “let me do it” This is temerity for you.

The varieties of play things available on the menu card, allowed her to cook up both the games (a la carte) & the rules of play (always in her favour). The sheer permutation & combinations she works out is truly amazing!

She almost takes it for granted that I will participate willingly (or) unwillingly! That particular day, she decided to play with balloons and make balls of different shapes. She has already tried it at home, but the filled air had leaked and balls shrunk to marble size.

She was unable to tie a thread, tightly at the neck of the inflated balloon. That was not acceptable and she did not know how to solve that technical problem. But any how she showed me the shrunken shapes as a fait accompli.

That was when she took me on board, with an “us” request to find a solution for that vexatious issue. I demonstrated the technique of filling air, holding the balloon’s neck in a “pinch”, stretching the neck and knot it to hold the air in.

She watched in rapt attention as my fingers coordinated in stretching & knotting the neck. Losing interest in this play (for a change “us” did not become “me”) and not willing to give credit to me, she abruptly changed the topic. She was obviously trying to cover up her de-fait accompli.

She wanted to know how a ship floats in water and how an airplane flies without flapping wings.

With the help of a bucket of water and a paper boat, laden with plastic objects, I introduced Mr. Archimedes to her. A paper airplane, actually a rudimentary one, did help her to understand some of the aerodynamic principles.

She was enthused by the demonstration with the paper objects – it might have appealed to her “origami” talents. Partial understanding of the mechanisms of floating & flying was sufficient.

She immediately dropped the “us” and started using “let me explain to you…..”  Then we took up playing the game of filling and bursting of polyethylene bags and paper covers – salvaged items from her house, kept naturally in a separate bag!

This game was played by “us”, as she had not yet mastered the art of crimping and holding the open end of the covers/bags, to retain filled air. Here she needed my help the most or otherwise there was no game at all to play!

Then, gingerly she took the crimped end from me, came behind and smashed the inflated cover on my back.
The bursting and the loud bang thrilled her and pained me. Who cares? Now, are you wondering about the connection between the title and the narration?

Let us (not the “us” mentioned till the balloon incident) read the first paragraph again, trace the metamorphosis of “us” to “me” , sounding me out with her doubts ,seeking clarification , sticking with “us” when the chips are down, reverting to “me” when the game was in her hands.

As a good will gesture, using my back to burst the air filled bags with “bangs”. Do you see the connection now? Now, reminisce such incidents you had and share them :) I’m pretty sure you have come across ‘Typhoon’s’ in your life.

Humor in 'School Uniform'

The little typhoon marching to board the school bus is a treat to watch. Dark green skirt, white slack shirt tucked in, buckled belt, dark blue stripped tie and tightly strapped school bag resting on the back, is the way she goes to school. This often reminded of a soldier in the front – of course minus the arms & ammunition.

 

One day evening, the mischievous girl walked in and announced that she had brought me a gift! She held in her hand, a neatly packed article with decorative ribbon and all. To make the packing more secure, she had used strips of cellophane tapes.

I took the package and tried to open it. But she forcefully volunteered (read prevented me from….) to do the honors. From the open package she withdrew four sketches, drawn & colored by her. The first sketch depicted a hut, a coconut tree, a tree, two small cloud-lets and shining sun.

The second had the same elements but the cloud-lets have grown in size and number. The third panel had still bigger cloud-lets, radiating sun but the coconut tree and the other tree have interchanged their places. Third sketch was having only one change – the coconut tree had a curious appendage attached at the top. 

I had a few questions and she said to go ahead. The first question I asked was “why the other tree looked funny, a blob of green the size of its trunk at the top?”  Her reply was simple –some tree branches are like that! The second question was “what is the curious looking appendage on the coconut tree?” Without hesitation she said, “The tree is yielding coconut!” 

The last sketch was an interesting one. A line drawing, of a girl. The girl was lean and had fat, short arms and slim legs. On one side of her head she had, flying, braided hair tied with ribbon. The picture perfect girl was wearing spectacles & shoes too! The sketch was funny looking. I asked her “who the picture girl was?” She told it is the picture of her mother and was planning to gift it on her mother’s birth day. What gumption!

The way she had done the sketch of her mother fired up my own imagination. An idea slowly began to form in my mind. Giving finishing touches took another five minutes and I was ready with a plan to tease her a bit. Not wanting to abruptly change the subject, I engaged her in small talk to prepare the ground. 

After some time, I simply said “The way you dress for school looked funny!” Immediately she asked (zero tolerance for criticism) me to explain in detail. To keep the humor going, I concocted a story - how my son & daughter dressed up for school. 

Next day at 7:15 A.M sharp, she came dressed in her uniform. It was the funniest sight I have ever seen of a kid in uniform. Like ardhanarishwari, left half of the shirt was tucked in and the other half left over the skirt, un-tucked!

I burst out laughing and she also joined (a rare occurrence) – till our eyes started watering. After a bout of laughing, she complained of stomach pain.

Unless I tell you what I told her and what she did, how will you appreciate this incident?

The other day evening I had told her that my son and daughter wore their uniform differently. The slack shirt had a slit of three inches length, from the hemline, at the back end. This facilitated them to leave the left half of the skirt, un-tucked, over the buckled belt on the hip. The other half of the shirt was tucked in.

This, she believed it as real. Next day, it seems she came up the stairs and stopped at the landing space. She took out a scissors, undid her tucked in uniform and removed the shirt. Then, she cut the slack shirt as I had detailed. Dressing up once again, she came to show me her ardhanarishwari avatar!