Letter to Daughter XI

Dearest Chikiepie Plum Pum, 

Hi! Today is, as it used to be, in our times (Happy) Children's Day. More often than not, Momie woke up on this day with the joy of going to school without a school bag, but with the pressure of attending the fanfare in coloured-clothes. You see, Momie has never been too sure of her fashion sense. So, to begin with, Happy Children's Day! You are so self-assured about what you are to do on this day, that it makes me shudder at how quickly you are growing. Or is it just the time?

Time. It is so different. For years when we woke up on this day, really, all we thought of was (if one was interested in sports) how many prizes one could win, and (if one was not), how quickly we could return to our homes with a packet of tiffin (tucks), which would include the very enviable and enticing packet of chips too -- that one day, everyone allowed us to have one. It was simple that way. I wonder if you will notice how different (and difficult) it is for you to wake up to. Well, why not? All day through you must be overlooking the bloody images of death in some place called Paris, or, hearing me discuss the pitiable plight of a terrorist held flight, or the unbearable tragedies of natural calamities. I say, it is very, very disturbing indeed.

What a sad world we have given you, C. One full of irrational hatred, growing intolerance and needless warfare. What is sadder is how we are not even making an attempt to keep the information and images away from you. To an extent that I wonder, does it matter to you anymore? Does one death differ from the other? Does the mention of gunshots sound different from the condition of having to decide on your pizza-topping? Have we tampered with the sensibilities of your generation?

I believe, we have. And I am really sorry, C, that it is like this. For, if you can, trust me when I say this now, the simplicity of sporting competitions has taught more that of the complexity of why we kill. I wish you did not have to grow up in a world where you are no longer safe, even without a fault of yours. I wish you rather not know of social media and social crumbling than be a computer games champion.

I wish I could simply wish you a 'Happy Children's Day' by praying that you never needed to grow up in this horrible world of ours. But, I daresay, I would change the prayer to you growing up as fast as possible so that you can care to understand what is going on with this world of ours, and explain it to me.

Till then, wishing I could gift you a morning devoid of such news,

Momie.