Generation Next!

I am constantly amazed by the sense of assurance and confidence the present generation kids have. I think I was an ideal example for the term ‘ignoramus’ when I was an eight year old. Life was just a matter of eating and playing… I wouldn’t even add ‘studying’ to the list because, we hardly ‘studied’ anything at that age… we did our homework. We never went for any kind of classes except perhaps music classes…
My sons at the ripe old age of eight belonged to ‘the innocent childhood’… Though they had a more ambitious set of parents who took pains to hone their artistic skills and musical talents…yet, all said and done…their life also was pretty normal. Of course, I had always sported a mother hen attitude when it came to their movements.
Today’s youngsters zoom between various classes intended to hone their talents, thanks….or no thanks… to their ambitious parents! And, they seem to be managing quite enviably. The self assurance these youngsters display in their conversations with adults tell us that we are improving in the genetic mapping of the next generation. The dexterity with which they manipulate complex games at such young age as 5 or 6, the aplomb with which they perform on stage, the way they air their opinions are all amazing!
Yet, I was quite startled and rather awe-struck when I met an eight year old very recently. I was flying home from Sharjah, and this youngster in cargo pants and sleeveless yellow T shirt slipped into the seat next to me. The first thing he asked me was, “ Auntie, do you have a mobile?” I was startled. I had been cautioned by my mother never to talk to strangers when I was his age… Of course, there was no chance of that for I was never allowed anywhere out without an adult accompanying me! My reflex made me shake my head in negative. He bought it after giving me a sharp look. Had he watched me use my mobile in the lounge? It was <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1:time Minute="0" Hour="0">midnight</st1:time>, UAE time… Who did he want to call at this hour?
He settled himself down, clamping his seat -belt on and flicking open the pouch attached to his waistband, took out some gum and started chewing.
Next to him a bearded, bedraggled man occupied the aisle seat. Obviously, a worker returning home after two or three years, I thought. The youngster turned his head and gave the man a thorough look…and then disapprovingly turned towards me. I dreaded the next question… he was going to ask me to switch seats… But, he surprised me by his, “Are you going to <st1:country-region><st1lace>India</st1lace></st1:country-region>?” I said yes. He said, ”<st1:City><st1lace>Hyderabad</st1lace></st1:City>?” I said, No… <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City>. He said, Oh…. And then after a short silence, ‘Is that in <st1:country-region><st1lace>India</st1lace></st1:country-region>?’ I felt a giggle welling up inside me… but the guy’s serious countenance forbade me from any juvenile behaviour. I said,
Yes. It is in <st1:country-region><st1lace>India</st1lace></st1:country-region>…In fact, I’ll get down in <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City> and then you will proceed to <st1:City><st1lace>Hyderabad</st1lace></st1:City>.
By now he was distracted by the tray of sweets thrust under his nose by the busy stewardess. He made a grab for a few sweets. He quickly moved the gum from his mouth, wrapped it in the foil he fished out of his pocket and dropped it in the magazine holder in front of him. Then he started chewing the toffees, one by one. I turned and stared out of the porthole…
“Will she come again?” he asked, making me turn to him.’ Who?’ I asked. ‘The airhostess with the toffee,’ he said. Luckily for him, one just walked by and I stopped her and told her,” He wants some more toffees.” She obliged and he grabbed another fistful.
He turned to me and asked me, “Is this yours or mine?” He was pointing at the armrest between us where I was resting my hand. Feeling quite chastised, I quickly removed my hand and said, ‘It is yours’ and he solemnly staked his claim! I felt like laughing out loud. What a contradiction this young man was! My curiosity got the better of me and I asked him why he was travelling alone. He told me he was going for change of Visa. On my persistence, he told me his parents were in Sharjah, though he couldn’t tell me exactly where he lived…Near Mega Mall, he said later.

He said he was in Grade 2 and was travelling alone for the fourth time. Then he asked me if she would return. I asked who. He said the lady with the toffee. I said no. He said, ‘That’s all? She won’t give anymore toffees?’ I gravely shook my head. By then he noticed the inflight instrumental music (santoor) courtesy, Indian Airlines. He wrinkled his nose and told me… ‘What stupid music they are playing….Will they keep on playing this?’ I said yes, they would. Then he enquired, ‘Where is the TV… and Video game?’ I said it was not there. He said, ‘What? No TV…? No Game?... But my mother said there would be…’ I couldn’t resist it anymore. I giggled and said, ‘Your mother tricked you. This flight has no TV.’ He asked, ‘Why? Is this Air <st1lace>Arabia</st1lace>?’ I said, ‘No, Indian Airlines…and he said, ‘My Mama cheated me.’ And I burst out laughing which I quickly changed to a cough.
When the stewardess handed out the immigration forms, he politely requested me to fill it for him. He handed me his passport. And I came to know that he was Mohammed Anees Hadi and he was all of eight years old! What a ripe old age to travel unaccompanied! When my twins were eight I hadn’t allowed them out of our gate unaccompanied! How times have changed!
After finishing his form, I told him to keep it safe inside the passport. I asked him who’d meet him at <st1:City><st1lace>Hyderabad</st1lace></st1:City>… He said ‘Mamma.’ I said, but you said your mother is in Sharjah… and he said, my Mamma…my mother’s brother… Oh your Maaama I said. He gave me a very patronizing look as though he felt sorry for my IQ. The bearded man next to him thrust his passport and immigration form at me saying, “Zara, yeh bhi bhar ke denge?” I obliged. The moment I opened his passport, I saw the bold red letters ‘CANCELLED’ on it. Then I saw it… the two pages attached to the passport. Issued by the ministry of Law and Order, signed by the prison officer. The papers said that it was the official paper for the man, Vannela Venkata Rajulu, to exit UAE. He had entered the country unauthorized by ‘air’ in 1995, had been apprehended and was being deported. Ahmed was looking at me as I filled out the man’s form. I half expected him to ask me why I was filling details from the paper instead of the passport itself… but the arrival of the drinks trolley diverted him. In the next hour or so he kept complaining to me about the smell of the beer Vannela Rajulu was imbibing in, generously supplied by Indian Airlines… He even asked me why ‘yeh log’ were drinking such ‘gandha smellwalla cheez’…. I just smiled and shrugged.
When food was served, the stewardess, after asking me for my preference, plonked two veg meals in front of me and Hadi. Are you a vegetarian? I asked him. He nodded. And as we started to eat, he asked, ‘Is this chicken?’ I said, this is vegetarian… No chicken or mutton. Only vegetables. ‘But I want chicken,’ he said. May be he expected the stewardess to return, like she did with the tray of sweets… I said, sorry…but no, I didn’t think she would. He was gentlemanly enough not to fuss… but I saw that he didn’t do any justice to the meal.
He slept leaning against me and I draped part of my blanket around him. While we were landing at <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City>, he awoke to ask me, ‘ Is this <st1:City><st1lace>Hyderabad</st1lace></st1:City>?’ I said, No, it was <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City>…and that I was going to alight when the plane landed. ‘After that will it go to <st1:country-region><st1lace>India</st1lace></st1:country-region>?’ He asked. There was no time for another geography lesson. I just said it would fly to <st1:City><st1lace>Hyderabad</st1lace></st1:City> next. After collecting by cabin baggage, I told him to take care. He nodded gravely and said ‘Bye!’ I smiled at Vannela and moved forward, marvelling at the composure of the young boy, mature beyond his years… yet with traces of a fast disappearing child in him. I was amazed by the confidence his parents had in him. May be this kind of parenting is required in these times, I told myself.
It is ages since I landed in <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City>. The memory of this child-man kept bouncing back and forth in my mind. I needed to talk about him… and I have, to you all. Flying alone is quite safe. If requested, the cabin crew will take good care of an unaccompanied child. But here they hardly seemed to bother. The youngster was on his own and I felt bad that I hadn’t given him my mobile. Maybe he had wanted to call his parents and assure them that he was fine. That is one small albatross I’ll carry around my neck.

He represents our generation next… The cocksure, go-getting, multitasking, tech- savvy… generation of street smart kids… Will they steer this world of ours towards a better tomorrow? I honestly hope they will. For they seem to have more guts than a lady in her forty’s who shies from talking to strangers sitting next to her, even if the stranger is just eight years old!