Many millennial parents worry that their toddler kids have fallen behind by shying away from video games, whereas they ought to stay relieved that the online bug has not bitten these kids as yet, as there is no effective vaccine against this online virus. I remember the “tablet” of yore, the humble slate on which I used to teach my kids to trace the alphabet, having done that myself decades ago.
But nowadays a child sits glued to the cell phone or electronic tablet straining his eyes and forgets to move his body, whereas he should be playing games involving some bare physical movement, for healthy motor coordination.
A few years ago, it made me happy that my toddler grandson Kanishk handled his own gadget, the tablet, only occasionally to watch videos of his favourite rhymes whilst most other times he was busy in the backyard either splashing with water or roughing it out with a ball or a bicycle.
His brother Rishabh has followed in his footsteps and nowadays they play endlessly with each other. Their latest creation is an inventory island where they have in display countless vehicles, bought as well as created, alongwith accessories and take turns to excitedly explain about each item’s spec to any guest, or their tireless “dodda”, that is me. I was amused to see the secret vault where they had placed a golden egg!
I recollect the games of the past where they were played against real people, as compared to the virtual fantasies that the online games offer the players nowadays. I would be packed off to an aunt’s place for a few days in summer to spend some “social” time with my cousins. Invariably it was spent playing hide and seek, hopscotch, spinning the top or a game of making sets with broken pieces of multi-designed glass bangles. A game of carrom was welcome, especially with my own big brother, “anna”, who was a master at this game.
Summer holidays were also meant to laze around cozying up with favourite novels, either purchased, or borrowed from the school library. I remember my trepidation when I ventured to ask the school librarian to lend me Enid Blyton’s books for the holidays. Will she or won’t she was my question, and when she did agree my mind would jump up, and I can still feel the excitement that followed in searching for the books and securely placing them in my steel school trunk. My cherished holiday destination during the pre-teen years was either swinging high on the swing, or munching favourite snacks devouring Enid Blyton novels or following the lives of Phantom, Mandrake, Casper, Richie Rich and many more. While at school, it was always badminton, see-saw, or a game of tennikoit with the wind playing in the hair and sweat caressing the face.
Is the outdoor sporting hobby for a kid a vestige of the past? Perhaps not. It is summer time again and I hear kids in my neighborhood shriek whilst playing cricket on the main road itself. The ball, their “sixer”, landed a moment ago in the compound of my abode and a naughty kid has already jumped over the wall and retrieved it. I feel happy that the connection with the past is not totally lost, as yet.
