I don’t like my daughter’s story

Monday, December 26, 2011

Kids are wonderful and full of fun. They represent 50% of a parent. And my 50% has learned a story which her father does not like.

Upon reaching home, the 3.3 year old was excited to narrate a story to me. I knew it must be from her favourite cartoon serial Chhota Bheem. Few times she told me the scenes from the cartoon over a pillow. According to her, she was the queen Indra Muti and I am Jagu, the talking monkey. I claimed I was Chhota Bheem but she had already tagged it to her uncle. And I remained Jagu in almost all the stories she told me so far. I don’t mind being a monkey as far as her other 50% (my wife) does not call me that. I am lucky I am not even ‘pig’ although I would not mind being that especially for this blog.

“Daddy, I want to tell you a story, about four friends,” my daughter screamed.
“I am Chhota Bheem,” I said not even looking at her but concentrating fully on loosening the shoe laces.
She looked irritated. But it was timely I had to tell her the news of eating out in the town. And it sure made her happy. “We are going out for a dinner,” I said.
“Really? Hurray!” she exclaimed and hurried off to hug her aunty. My wife was watching us. I locked her eyes, “It was I who announced that news and why hug her aunt?”
“Zalu,” wife said hinting it does not matter whoever our daughter hugs.
“At 8 O’Clock,” I said.

And at 8 O’Clock, we got into the car and went to the town. Not finding a table in Rice Bowl, we went closer to Tandin hotel. At the first tread of steps, my daughter took my hand from her aunt.
“Ani told me a story,” she got back to the old tale.
“I am Chhota Bheem,” I said.
“Not that. It is about four friends,” she persisted.
“I am Chhota Bheem,” I persisted again which irritated my wife.
“Zalu,” she whispered.
“It is about Elephant and....four friends, Ani told me today.” I was happy to hear that.

On the second landing, we reached the lobby and in the wall I saw the paintings of four friends; elephant on the ground supporting other three friends to pluck a fruit. I smiled happily at her attempt of narrating similar story to Chhota Bheem.

“OK, go on,” I said. She saw the paintings too. She smiled a mischievous smile and did not utter a word. I coerced her to continue the story.
“Elephant and who are the other three friends?”
“Hehe, elephant and bird and rabbit and.........”
“And?” I knew she would speak it. She knows how monkey looks.
After a brief pause, she spoke and that made me hate her story.
“And Ugyen Gyeltshen,” she said.

If I have to become monkey anyways, I better be a talking Jagu than the monkey from the wild jungle. Becoming Chhota Bheem the hero became a farfetched dream.
“Let’s go inside and find out the table to eat,” I said and dragged her to the restaurant hall.

“Zalu,” I heard my other half whisper from behind.


Monday, December 12, 2011

“Driver Sahib, how are you? Life has become so slow, I wish I can be your handy boy, hehe” she wrote.
“Come come, I will be glad to have you in every turning of road,” I typed
“Wolo, this is impossible. Can you really do it?” she replied.
“I will try reaching Trashigang but doubtful after that” I
“Haha, then who will drive towards Samdrup Jongkhar? Anyway what are you doing now? It is pretty cold today” she.
“I am sipping beer” I.
“Thu thu” she.
I have learned to understand her style of chatting in Dzongkha. She always types in speaking tone. Example: “sonn sonn” for “go go”, “mee yon” for “not coming”

And “thu thu” is equivalent to “thung thung” for “drink drink”

“Wai, 'thu' is a profane word in my mother tongue” I.
“OMG, I did not mean that” she.
“It is okay, thu can be a nice changpa with beer” I.
“Haha, can you taste it?” she.
“It is inside the bottle, trying to fish it out. Wait, I am almost reaching it” I.
“Deah, you and your chann paa” she.
“One question” I.
“What?” she
“Did you taste it before?” I.
“Yuck, forget it nem” she.
“Another question” I.
“Aww, what now?” she.
“How is your changpa? The one I am having is over cooked and very dark” I.
“Hey, change the topic. eirihsknf aifjasfljfsasfkaj, decode this” she.
“OK, sorry sorry, 59209490829059472093459, but first decode this” I.
“Deah, you are difficult, wait, I also got the beer, cheers man” she.
“Cheers” I.
“Wow, very refreshing” she.
“Ok, same here, thung thung. Ahem can I ask one last question? I.
“What?” she
“How does it taste? Your changpa?”

She did not reply after that.

(An imaginative piece rejected at other sites.)

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