Monday, September 30, 2013

I Don't Want to Wear the Pink One

Hello,

Altercations among children are common. Siblings are no exception.

In today's story, the twins, Suchi and Soori do not want the color of dresses they received as presents. The older sibling, 
Sapna offered to take both the dresses and put them together to make a dress for herself.

After some thinking and consultation, the twins came to a resolution.


This short story is about 6-7 year old children.


Meera




I don't want to wear the pink one

Didi = older sister
hushed tone = quiet voice
chimed = said


Suchi and Soori, the six-year-old, twins, argued with their mother about the new dresses that one of their aunts had sent them. 
Suchi said, "I don't want to wear this pink dress, I like purple, I want the purple one."
Mom said, "Your aunt looked for two dresses of the same color, but she found only these two---one purple and the other pink."
Soori said, "Mom gave this purple one to me. It's mine and I will not share it with anyone."
The twins' older sister, ten-year-old, Sapna said, "I wish I had a dress like this-pink or purple. I'd be happy with either one of them. "
Mom said, "Well, Sapna, if you like them, you can wear them. Your twin sisters certainly don't care for them, they're fighting over them."  
Sapna clapped, "Oh, goody, I get two new dresses." She picked up both the dresses.
Soori pouted, "You are too big for them, didi . They won't fit you."
"So? I can wear one up front and one at the back and clip them together."
Suchi frowned, "That would look silly."
"I don't mind it if it looked silly, I still get two new dresses. I like them and mom can help me put them together." Sapna put one dress on one shoulder and the other one on the other.
Suchi walked over to Soori and put a hand around her shoulder, "Soori, didi is going to take both our dresses."
Soori said, "Yeah, the dresses are ours, our aunt sent them to us., not to our didi."
The twins talked some more with each other in hushed tones. 
Mom and Sapna looked at each other, smiling.
The twins walked over to mom and their older sister, Suchi said, "Mom, we are keeping the dresses."
Soori said, "Yeah, didi can't have our dresses. She can tell aunt to send her a dress that fits her."
Suchi said, "That's right. If we keep the dresses, we get two dresses each."
Sapna asked, "How can that be? You want a different color than your sister."
Soori said, "Suchi can wear her purple dress and..."
"Yeah, and Soori can wear her pink one."
The twins chimed together, "And next week, we will exchange the dresses."
"Yeah, Soori will wear the purple dress, I will wear the pink one."
"And---we both have two new dresses." The twins said together.
Sapna gave the two dresses back to her twin sisters.
She gave a high-five to mom and went back to her room.
Mom helped the happy twins wear their new dresses.

The End


© 2013, Meera Desai Shah 






Sunday, September 22, 2013

It is Not Okay

Hello,

Bullying is not a new phenomenon. With the audio-visual media, the news about bullying seems to spread like fire. I wonder with so much information concerning bullying, whether some people are desensitized while some copy it on their targets. 

In Hindu mythology, the Kauravas are portrayed as big bullies who eventually succumbed to their ill fate. When I was growing up, at picnics, the goodies from my lunch box used to disappear. My younger cousins tell me I was very bossy. I wonder if bossy and bully are the same. No, they are not. Hey, I never ate from my little cousins' goodies nor did I hit any child in my life, not even my own. 

I think the bullying starts as simple teasing, for example, stealing someone's goodies at a picnic, without a response from the teased, it may escalate to bullying. Then there are some people who are born mean and rejoice hurting others. I don't know, I am still trying to figure out why people bully. What I do know is, that down the road, it hurts the bully and the bullied. 

In today's story, for his own reasons, the teacher's son teases, Sapna. He may have liked her and she refused to accept his admiration. I have not thought about how it may escalate down the road. For the time being, he's especially happy to pull her long hair. In earlier grades he stuck his foot out to trip her and then laugh. It is definitely not okay with her. When her complaints failed to work, she decided to teach him a lesson.

Meera


It is Not Okay
                                                                               

“S……top.”
In the busy school cafeteria, one hiss rang out.
Who said that?
Nine-year-old Sapna brought her long black braid up front. She looked across; sparks from her eyes could have turned Tommy into a fishing-net.
Sapna murmured to her friend, "I stopped Tommy, the bully from trying to trip me but he still kicks me under the cafeteria table, and he just pulled my hair. 'I'm telling' does not work with him." 
The friend did not hear the whispered complaint.
Tommy tossed his lunch bag on the table, “Ooo…Sapna, tell me, is your hair made of silk?”
Sapna murmured, "How do I keep the bully from messing with my hair?" 
The fourth-grade teacher, the bespectacled Ms. Dumbledore came around peering at the students and then sat down at the end table for lunch with her colleagues.   
Tommy smirked again, his shoe touched Sapna's under the table.
Sapna pulled her feet under her seat and opened her lunch. She fumed. After a few minutes, lips pursed tight, she walked straight to a trash-can and threw away her lunch.
After school, Sapna walked into her thirteen-year-old brother, Sagar’s room.
Sagar said, “Hey sis, I saw you throw away your lunch.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Really?”
Sapna’s face turned red, “Mummy and Dad will never let me change my school; I want my hair gone today.”
She bent went around Sagar, leaned over his desk and picked up a pair of scissors. As she straightened up, her braid tipped over a little bottle on Sagar’s work-paper. A dark liquid sprawled on his white sheets of work.
Sapna dropped the scissors on the desk and cried, “Oh my god---I made a mess. I’m so sorry!”
Sagar grabbed her braid, “Sis, it’s okay.”
“It is?”
“Sure, Look!”
Little by little the black blob disappeared from the paper.
“Where did it go?”
Sagar said, “It’s the same ink that grocery clerks use to check the big dollar bills.”
“Can I get a bottle of this ink? I’ll give you my one month’s allowance.”
“We don’t get any allowance.”
“Right. I’ll clean your room plus give you my dessert every night---for one whole month.”
“No dessert, but I accept your cleaning service.”
Sapna smiled and stretched a hand, “It’s a deal. Give me the goods.”
“First, tell me, why do you want this ink?”
“I want to teach Tommy a lesson that he’ll never forget.”
“Tommy? The boy who’s always smiling at you? I think he likes you.”
Sapna clenched her teeth, “Yuck. I hate him. He pulls my hair at every chance he gets. Your ink gave me an idea.”
“Before you implement some far out idea, have you told the teacher, any other adult about his teasing?”
“They say they haven’t seen him pull my hair, besides, his mom is our teacher.”
“How about telling our parents?”
Sapna said, “You must be kidding. They’ll march straight to the principal’s office.”
Sagar nodded, “I see your point. Here’s your bottle; I’ll get more from my science teacher. But my ears are burning, tell me your plan."
Sapna told Sagar her plan, “It's not okay for Tommy to bully me; I’m going to make him stop.”
On the following day, Sapna and her friends sat closer to the teachers’ lunch table. She kept one eye on the cafeteria entrance. 
When she saw Tommy walking towards her table with a mischievous smile, she opened her bag and took out the bottle of magic-ink. She undid the top and poured the liquid on her hair. She tossed her braid back with the shake of her head, without touching it. 
Tommy passed by Sapna.
He screamed, “What the –“ 
Sapna ran to Ms. Dumbledore.
“Ms. Dumbledore, come, please, come quick. Tommy just pulled my hair. Look at his hand.”
Ms. Dumbledore went to Tommy and asked, “Tommy, what’s going on?”
Tommy muttered, “I don’t know. Like every time I pulled her hair and look what she did to my hand.”  Tommy opened his palm; the black ink that stained his palm was disappearing fast. He glared at Sapna.
Ms. Dumbledore narrowed her eyes, “I see. So you did pull her hair.”
Tommy said, “Well, Mom, she ---mom, look my hand’s clean….”
“Tommy. Please, pick up your lunch and sit by me at the teachers' table. 
At the teachers table  Mrs. Dumbledore talked softly to Tommy about teasing and bullying. She talked about how it makes others feel hurt and angry. She asked Tommy if he should be punished in school by making him sit alone.
Tommy said he would not like that.  
Ms. Dumbledore paused for a moment, “Okay, fine. You can go back to your spot with the others. I do not want you to tease anyone. For hurting a fellow student's feelings, there will be consequences. No TV for you at home for one month.”
Tommy nodded. He picked up his tray. Looking down at the floor, he went back to his lunch table to finish the rest of his lunch.
Ms. Dumbledore went to Sapna, she touched Sapna's hair, “Your hair feels clean. How did you get the color on Tommy’s hands?”
Sapna beamed, “Well, just before Tommy came by my table, I wet my braid with a special ink.”
“A special ink?”
“Yeah, this ink disappears in seconds after you use it.”
“Do your parents know about this?”
Sapna said, “Not yet. But they will when I go home.”
Ms. Dumbledore nodded and went back to her seat to sit by the fellow teachers, "Teasing at school or outside of school is a kind of bullying, I will not tolerate it. I hope we, the teachers discuss bullying in our classrooms. We must educate our children that it hurts everyone involved. Being a bully is just not acceptable." 


The End


© 2013, Meera Desai Shah



Saturday, September 14, 2013

Gimme, I Got it First



Hello,

Years ago, I heard this story in India. I used the lesson while teaching, and then wrote it in a story. Upon reading the story, a Jewish friend told me that it was a Jewish story. I added a sentence in the story that acknowledges the existence of a Jewish story with the same idea.

Children's squabbles are universal. They generally get resolved, amicably or not. In today's story, two older children help the younger siblings, a set of twins, to solve a little problem of sharing.

The story is suitable for 5-6-year old children.

Meera


Gimme, I Got it First

Bhaiya=Brother, 
Ruckus = noise
Didi=older sister

Five-year-old, Suchi screamed, “Gimme; I got it out from under the bed.”
Her twin, Soori screeched louder, “I told you how to get it out with a broom.”
Suchi said, “I brought the broom from the kitchen.”
Their thirteen-year-old brother, Sagar walked into the room, “What’s the ruckus, guys?”
Back in the kitchen, nine-year-old, Sapna tied an apron and got ready to help their mom wash and cut a watermelon at the kitchen sink.
Soori said, “Bhaiya, I don’t want to share. She rolled it to me; so I go first.”
Suchi frowned, “Bhaiya, I pushed it out with a broom, and she grabbed it.”
Soori said, “I get to play with it first.”
Suchi smiled, “I have to learn dribbling. It’s my homework.”
Sagar said, “Time out girls, I need Sapna didi’s help for this.”
Soori said, “Are we going to have some Indian King’s court, Bhaiya?”
Sagar said, “You guessed it, Kiddo. Please give me the ball.”
Soori made a face and gave the ball to Sagar.
He dribbled it towards the kitchen, “Sapna, Your Majesty, it's time for your court.”
Sapna said, “Are the twins at war? I’ll be there in a sec!”  She washed her hands and came to the den.
Sagar and Sapna talked with each other in whispers.
Soori said, “Bhaiya, if you want, I’ve got a princess crown.”
Sagar said, “Sure, bring it along.” He gave the ball to Sapna to hold for a few minutes,
Soori found the crown, and placed it on Sapna’s head, “There—perfect.”
In the kitchen, mom put the first cut in the melon.
Suchi called, “Mo…m…”
Mom said, “Bhaiya is in charge. Take your complaint to him.” She finished slicing the watermelon; she also came to the den and sat on a sofa.
Suchi plopped down on a chair across from Mom. 
Soori sat on the sofa’s armrest.
Sapna-Emperor rolled the ball in her lap, “Where is my friend and adviser Birbal?”
“Here I am, Your Majesty.” Sagar-Birbal bowed.
Akbar-Sapna said, “Birbal, how are we going to handle the girls' fight over one ball?”
Sagar-Birbal bowed, "Your Majesty, you solved the case of two women fighting over one baby."
Suchi said, “I know a Jewish story about two women fighting over a baby.”
Akbar-Sapna said, “Quiet in my court. Birbal, where is the royal butcher?”
Mom got up and bowed, “Here I am, Your Majesty.”
Akbar-Sapna said, “Good. Bring your sharpest knife.”
“Your Majesty.” Mom-the butcher, bowed and went into the kitchen. She returned in a few moments with the knife.
Akbar-Sapna said, “Royal Butcher, I want you to cut this ball, right here.”
Soori got off the hand rest of the sofa, “Didi, Your Majesty, wait, you’re gonna wreck the ball. Please gimme the ball ’cause I got it out.”
Suchi said, “It was my idea, so I go first.”
Akbar-Sapna said, “Hmm...you leave me no choice. Royal butcher, cut the ball in two equal parts.”
The butcher-Mom bowed, “Your Majesty.”
Suchi widened her eyes, “Oh, no, you’re not really cutting it, Mom?
Emperor-Sapna said, “Silence. Either we cut the ball or we lock it away.”  
Soori whispered, “Hey, Sis, how about we take turns playing with it?” She faced Sagar, “Right, Bhaiya?”
Sagar nodded.
Suchi shrugged, “It’s better than cutting the ball.”
The twins played with the ball for a long time.


The End



© 2013, Meera Desai Shah

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Dad's Cup of Tea

Hello,

In today's story, the older siblings, Sagar and Sapna are replaced by their mother and the father, in the role of Akbar and Birbal. A phrase, "Bibal ki khichadi" is used in Hindi, when a person tries to do something that is physically impossible. 

In an Akbar-Birbal story, Birbal tried the impossible feat of cooking rice and beans (called Khichdi in Hindi) with the help of the heat from the lights from Akbar's palace across a river.

Meera





                                                                Dad’s Cup of Tea

The six-year-old twins, Suchi and Soori sat at the two little wooden desks in the opposite corners of their kitchen.
Pushing the dark hair away from her face, Suchi focused on her artwork; Soori wriggled her toes as she looked at her own paper.
Their Mom worked at a counter nearby. Her concentration broke when Suchi’s shriek practically shattered the kitchen window.
“M-------om, Soori is looking at my picture again.”
Soori raised her head, and narrowed her eyes, “Don’t you scream at me, I can’t even see your face from here. You are the one who’s peeking at my work.”
Mom left her work and stood between the two. Hands on her waist, she said, “Well, I think now is the time to invite Emperor Akbar and Birbal into our kitchen.”
Suchi pouted, “Why do you and Dad always bring in some Indian story when we fight?”
Smiling, Mom went back to the counter and picked up an empty salad bowl.
She put it on her head, “Quiet in my court. Young lady, you better respect the crown.” She tapped the bowl.
Soori clapped, “We get an Akbar story. Hey, Mighty Emperor, will you also have Birbal in your court?"
Mom-Akbar said, “Hush----little girl, we hear Birbal pulling his cart-without-horses into the royal stables.”
Dad entered the kitchen with his car keys in one hand and a briefcase in the other.
“Birbal, we need your wisdom to solve the entanglement between these two girls.” Mom-Akbar adjusted her bowl-crown.
Dad put away the things in his hands and bowed. “Your Majesty, I’m at your service.”
Suchi clung on to Dad’s legs, “Dad, please, tell Mom to stop. I hate Akbar stories.”
Dad-Birbal whispered, “Shhh---little girl, you don’t want to upset the Emperor.”
Suchi stomped her feet and went back to her chair.
Mom-Akbar roared, “No speaking in the court unless spoken to. Birbal, these two girls do not wish to show their artwork to each other. One girl thinks that the other is peeking at her work.”
Dad-Birbal bowed to Mom, the Emperor, and looked at the two pictures.
He bowed to Mom-Emperor again.  “Pardon me, Your Majesty. I need to start the heating process for my tea by turning on a lantern in the den.”
He walked to the den and turned on the brightest lamp.
Mom-Emperor said, “Birbal, stop fooling with the lanterns. I order you to help me solve this great difficulty that has fallen on my two subjects.”
Dad-Birbal said, “I beg your pardon, sire, my wife is busy playing Emperor Akbar. So I must make the tea myself.”
Mom-Akbar frowned, “My dear man, we have a crisis at our hands, this is no time for tea.”
Dad-Birbal bowed again, “Sire, I beg your pardon, It’ll be quick. I will put the lantern on high-heat in the den, and its heat will boil the water for my tea in the kitchen.”
Soori pulled at Dad’s pants, “Dad, how can the hot lamp in the den make your tea in the kitchen?”
Mom-Akbar said, “Birbal, we do not understand your actions.”
Dad-Birbal bowed, “Your Majesty, if a person can see art from ten feet away, the lantern can certainly boil the water for tea from twenty feet away.”
Mom-Akbar said, “Ho, Ho, Ho, Birbal, we understand. The hot lantern twenty feet away can make your tea, if ---”
Suchi interrupted. “Yeah, yeah, I get it too. Dad can’t make tea with the hot lamp twenty feet away and Soori can’t peek at my picture from ten feet.
Soori ran to Dad. She hugged him. “Dad, you are the smartest Birbal I ever met.”
Suchi crinkled her nose and plopped down on her little chair.
Mom sat up straight on the bar stool, and took off her salad-bowl-crown. “Aah, I must tell the Queen to wash this crown before serving salad at her dinner-party this evening.”
Suchi and Soori went back to their art.
Dad said “I guess, I’ll have to make the tea myself.”

The End



© 2013, Meera Desai Shah