My 'NO' Child

Sunday, February 21, 2010



Her singing aloud of her favorite nursery rhyme ‘ek mota hathi jhoom ke chale…’, or a dramatic monologue with her Barbie doll, makes me aware of her wakefulness in the morning. I rush to her room to greet her with my sweetest ‘Good Morning meri bitiya rani’ and find her hidden under the wraps of her blanket. A little more honeyed talk, and there she is, revealing her ‘angelic’ face glowing with freshness and a radiant smile. Talk to her a little more about whether she is feeling happy after her sleep, and she becomes all set to descend from the top floor of her bunk bed. The extreme care that she takes in taking each step while coming down the ladder makes me think of her as a feather-footed classical dancer. While mid-way on her ladder, she jumps into the arms of her gushing Mother, treating her to a soft, warm embrace. Having nourished my sense of hearing with her ringing singing voice, sense of sight with her happy smile, and sense of touch with her cuddly hug, she slowly but steadily readies to don her ‘hard nut’ avatar for the rest of the day.


Watching her laze around for about half an hour after leaving her bed, I say, “Please come to the bathroom to get fresh.” She says, “No, its Bhaiya’s turn first.” After the kids get freshened up, I say, “Will you have daliya kheer for breakfast?” She says, “No, I want bread-butter with Bournvita milk for breakfast!” After finishing with the breakfast, it is time for bath and getting ready for school. I say, “Take bath first, and then you can play some more.” She says, “No, you take bath first and let me play in the meantime.” Controlling my growing irritation, I somehow manage to get her ready for school. “What have you kept in my lunch-box today?” she asks. I say, “Your favorite fruit and some chapatti-subzi.” She says, “No, I want Maggie for lunch.” After much convincing, she agrees to have Maggie for her evening snack, and then asks me, “Am I going to school by school-bus today?” “Yes,” I say. She screams, “No, I want to go on your bike.” Again, some last minute negotiations take place, and she agrees to go by her bus only if I allow her to take two pink roses (one for decorating her head with, and the other for her teacher) from my potted garden in the balcony.


In the evening, she wants to be left alone with her wardrobe. I say, “No, I will not allow you near the wardrobe.” She tries to manage with whatever dress I select for her, but then wants to be allowed to remain close to my cabinet of lotions, creams, bindis etc. I say, “No, I cannot see you mess with my stuff.” She wants to sit before the TV till her Princess movie gets finished. I say, “No, you have to go for your skating class.” After the skating class, she is allowed to play in the play-ground outside our house but with strict instructions to come back home with her brother only. She, however, starts missing her computer games after having played on the slides and the swings for some time, and stealthily escapes from the playground. At the doorbell of her house, her index finger twitches into action letting out a non-stop procession of ding-dongs till I rush to open the door. I, irritated to the core, shout, “No, you cannot come home alone. You have to come with bhaiya only.” She joins her brother who was worriedly looking for her in the playground, and then comes back home with him after half an hour. She wants to go straight to her computer, but I say, “No, you have to first finish your home-work.” At the dinner table, on her asking for giving her something else for dinner, I shout, “No, you have to eat this food first, and then you can eat the sweet of your choice.” While brushing her teeth, she demands to have her Papa help her with it. I tiredly ask my husband to take charge, and then hear her say to her Papa, “No, I don’t want this night-dress. I want the one with flowers on it.” Finally, I hear her say from her bed, “No, don’t shut the door of my room. I want to see you and Mummy while i am sleeping.” My husband surrenders before her last demand for the day, and comes back to me asking how I manage to survive day in and day out with this ‘NO’ girl of ours.


I remain quiet and let Osho reply to him in one of his famous talks on ‘How to deal with a gifted child whose every answer begins with a big NO?”