Joie de vivre( Joy of living)

Joie De Vivre


Breezing into my office, finally happy that the winter decided to stop playing truant, I opened my cabin to see the mother son duo who had been given prior appointment waiting for me. The smile playing on my lips almost froze as I saw the little boy no more than 3 ft .tall, thin, bespectacled, and terribly frightened of something. He smiled at me, a smile that showed that if he didn’t do it he would be admonished.

Just as I was to begin talking to them, in walked a sturdy tall man, claiming to be the child’s father, and seated himself next to the child, the juxtaposition completely belying the fact that they were father and son..

A small question and much to the child’s chagrin what followed was an onslaught or rather the character assassination of the 3 ft. structure. For the 9 year old this seemed to produce a cacophany as he winced. This might be a regular affair for him I thought. My heart went to the little child and I wanted to hug him, but knew I couldn’t and at least shouldn’t right now.
But one thing was sure, I was going to protect him. There was something about this kid that brought my maternal instincts to the fore. I asked my assistant to take him to the garden below as the look of ennui was so evident on his face.

The child was a dyslexic, from what I understood and looking at his work it was almost confirmed. But the parents didn’t want to hear anything of it. Call it lack of literacy or the fact that they wish to show that their kid is as normal as the others but very lazy and had no interest in studies. This wasn’t the first case .It is a herculean task to make parents come to terms with certain realities.

I took a tea break and went to stand by the window, looking down at the kid playing blithely oblivious of the stream of accusations going on about him. I understood one fact, that if I agreed to them that their child was lazy, the child would again continue living a hellish life. One look at him was enough to confirm this, And if I disagreed with them, they would change the counsellor until they chanced upon someone who agreed that the fault lies in the child. I had to deal with a lot of finesse.

Sometimes God creates perfect children imperfectly. But then its sad if these kids are under the care of imperfect parents . This was one such case. Anyway I had to tread carefully . I wanted Saurab to smile and without fear.I wanted him to scream without fear. I wanted him to enjoy his childhood without fear. Laugh and scream, his birthright as a child.

I asked Saurab to join me and asked the parents to wait out. The parents reluctantly agreed. I spoke to him. I hoped opening up to me can lead to a catharsis. After initial apprehensions he disclosed a few facts to me, about being chastised in home and school, the most shocking being his teachers in school and his parents hit him with a cane .His lips trembled as he spoke. His attempts to control his tears seemed futile. Infact his father had been to school to request the teachers to not spare the rod of him and they seem to have obliged willingly and generously too, as I saw the marks on his body.

Well I then asked him to read something, he looked like he had been subjected to capital punishment, the child was unable to decipher anything. I asked him his favourite flower. He said ,‘lotus’. I asked him to draw a lotus. He did try with shaky hands, then I held his hand and WE DREW TOGETHER. A beautiful lotus. He seemed happy. He smiled and I complimented him and he blushed. I couldn’t hold my self anymore and I kissed him.
I promised his parents that I would help him, but they would have to completely leave him in my care. The parents agreed . The father didn’t like to give up his authority but I guess he had little option.
We worked on a lot of things. Worked together. We still have a long way to go though but it would be a pleasant journey. Today when he came to meet me, he drew a lotus. He coloured it pink. He recognized the colour pink and believe me it was difficult to say which flower was more beautiful, the lotus or Saurab.

My instincts told me tomorrow would be beautiful for him. He would succeed in whatever he does. He had begun to live life . He had begun to experience joie de vivre.


Love,
Devika

 

Dear Krithi,

Yes its been way too long. Where have you been?

Hey good to see the first FB from you dear. Sheer joy!

Krithi mostparents often refuse to see reality. Sometimes they are aware but they feel turning a blind eye to the problem is a way to escape it. Sad state there.

Well here i am particularly happy for Saurab.

Glad you came in here Krithi).

Love,
Devika Chechi

 

Thanks Santosh,

True while on one hand we see couples desperately trying to fulfil their parental instincts , on the other we have parents not at all adept in handling situations.

Sometimes they fear societal stigma and so they camouflage the existing problems, using it as an escape route. Yes parents need to be more credulous and accept shortcomings and work a way to solving it, because their not doing so will completely restrict any form of development in the child leading to dire consequences.

Good point about marriage too.

Understanding potentials and limitations should be the optimum priority

Thanks for stepping in Santosh with a great FB.

Devika

 

Dear Kamalji,

This is a hard fact , I see these cases every day and have tears almost everytime I encounter such a case.

Thanks for your wishes and blessing . Glad you liked the story Kamalji.

Well I guess you being an emotional person , crying was inevitable.

Thanks for stepping in. And thanks for alllllllll those names . hehehehee!!

Regards,
Devika

 

Thanks a ton AC for your visit and appreciating this post. Im glad you liked it. This is quite a cause for concern these days.

The tears I presume are of happiness for Saurab.

Im equally lucky to have found him too.


Love,
Devika