Making of Anoushrayan – 2

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Mémoire - at Twelve

By Moutushi Ghoshdeysarkar

It felt so distant. It felt so farfetched. It never felt like an eventuality. Well I was wrong. Every other child becomes 12 every other day and so did Anoushrayan; yesterday.

The naughty but innocent eyes are expressing feelings yet beyond his comprehension. The little toddling feet have grown taller and stronger than mine. His palm is bigger, his grip is firmer and we now hold hands, for me more in need of support.

Time doesn’t fly; it stands still; in those images, that the camera lens creates and our sweet memories that never fade and need no technology to preserve.

Flash back 7 yrs (2012). The apartment we lived in had a basement parking and one had to drive up an elevation to get to the road. It created excellent opportunity for a downhill or uphill run. One fine day I and Anoushrayan then just 5, stood atop the elevation holding hands. He was scared but we walked down side by side. We went up and down, first walking then running, day after day, initially together then he trailing me and for years I outran him.

Flash back 2 yrs (2017). Anoushrayan could outrun me by far more number of seconds than I would a couple of years back. He sometimes even dragged me up as I got out of breath, helped push the scooter up if need be. My little boy had grown up.

I often wonder if there was no cycle of life, no growing up, no death, a scenario where nothing changes; how important would emotions be?

Emotions I feel, gives character to every mortal or immortal existence around us.

Flash back 9 yrs (2010). Anoushrayan was to face an interview the next day for admission in Pre-KG. The Principal would interact with the child, we were briefed previously. We expected her to ask him his name, our name, favourites and stuff like that. We felt it was most imperative to know one’s name; so we had taught him well, both ours and his.

Context one - few days back we had watched the movie Madagascar, and he loved it. He identified himself with Alex(the lion), me with Gloria(the hippo) and Rajib with Marty(the zebra).

 Context two - Since his early childhood days my mom would read to him the wonderful Bengali poems and stories written by Sukumar Roy (Satyajit Ray’s father); it is a delight to read them even today. However we identified Anoushrayan with a character called ‘Hijibijbij’, which literally means nonsense. It is a seriously funny character who would make one roll with laughter. So was Anoushrayan, and thus the connect.

Starting a couple of days before the D-day, every time we or anybody else would ask him his name, it was either Alex or Hijibijbij. The eve of the D-day really got me nervous. This was a school in our proximity, a reputed one and within our means, so I wanted him to be admitted there. However hard I tried with the 3 yr old, rolling my eyes and making my voice demure, the answer would not change. Next morning we went all dressed up and as I repeated the question in the car, the little brat gave the most heart warming smile and said, my name is  Alex, my mother’s name is Gloria and my father’s name is Marty. I knew not what to do and just sat there twitching nervously till the call came. I kissed him and he kissed back smearing saliva all over my cheek. We went in holding hands, Rajib tailing us. The principal, a nun with a sage like demeanour called him and he ran to her. She asked him his name as we were taking our seats and to my veritable relief, he said Anoushrayan Deysarkar. Man, it did sound sweet!       

Every step that we had taken together had been so vibrant and high on drama that I have never missed the vivacious opportunities of work that I lost in lieu of being with my child.

Flash back 6 yrs (2013). Anoushrayan in Grade 1. The respective class teachers would bring the kids to the gate and call out the names at dispersal. I went when she said Anoushrayan. He looked at me, top to bottom, with surprise and suspicion, then he hugged me and then smiled. Moments later, in the car he said, I could not recognise you at first, as you are wearing a full pant (a salwar, I usually wore quarter pants) but when I hugged you I recognised the smell.

The looks changed, the abilities enhanced, the squeaky voice changed a bit and the vocabulary increased many folds. Always a chatterbox he has turned into a fine raconteur. Calling Anoushrayan an avid reader, would be an understatement. It was almost uncanny when he started uttering the station names as they passed by on a train trip to Kolkata shortly after his 4^th birthday. Thereafter he has been reading. Anything and everything he can lay his hands on; magazines, newspapers, labels on packets and bottles. He was simply infatuated with reading, what he read was inconsequent; he didn’t understand most of the things. His lingua franka of course was English (being in Bangalore) and he loved the very sound of it.

Flash back 10 yrs (2009). We had trouble toilet training Anoushrayan. One such evening, I wanted to scold him for not trying to learn and took him into my room. I made him stand on the bed so that we became the same height and he could see me in the eye. After a short while I realised he was intently following my mouth and was very intrigued. All this while I was scolding in English, (as ‘am comfortable in the language when agitated or overwhelmed or want to make a point) and there stood my 2 yr old baby with an appreciative look and happy nod. I continued, trying to sound sombre. When he had enjoyed enough he jumped on to me and started eating my nose. The last accident on bed happened when he was 6 yrs old and never thereafter.

Anoushrayan loves two activities. Riding and swimming. He is a ‘very difficult to move out of chair/ home’ sort of a person but when it comes to those two, he is ready to walk the mile. It is sad that we are not able to arrange for him to learn Horse riding as there are no classes happening at a reachable distance. He proved to be a natural on the horse as he trotted and climbed the hills in Kashmir last summer.

A child, even the one who had seeded inside you, is full of surprises. In Kashmir, Anoushrayan wanted to go Zip Lining. A wish like that coming from a child who is known for being scared of a ball coming towards him, a very careful, rather a retreating type when it comes to sports, was difficult to process. When my mom (a very nervous lady when it comes to children taking risks) asked me why I allowed such a thing, I said I was both happy and scared at the same time and didn’t really think he’ll pull it through. He did it in great stride.

In autumn last year, down south in Rameshwaram he braved the seas while snorkelling and loved the experience. May be he likes a different kind of sport and ‘am just getting to know about it.

Flash back 4 yrs (2015). Starting with Karate at around 5 yrs, we tried Kung fu, dance, Lawn Tennis and Skating before giving up. I felt very humbled at the Tennis court and felt a beautiful balance. In school Anoushrayan was the topper winning accolades in any exam internal or external, so I had to face both appreciation and concealed jealousy. At the court I was the mother of a very dumb player and a subject of sympathy. The coach even told me that he is really worried about my son’s future because if someone can not pick up tennis after almost 2 yrs then how would he manage maths in school. I just nodded suppressing a smirk.

Anoushrayan loves to photograph the wild life as long as he doesn’t have to move or carry the camera around. So a safari through the jungles (national parks) suits him best. He was in his element and made some excellent pictures while on the boat as we cruised through the high and low tides of the Sunderbans.

Flash back 5 yrs (2014). I love Art; music, drama, drawing and painting, sculpting; just anything creative, romantic and beautiful. I found a wonderful art (drawing and painting) teacher and would take him there in the evenings thrice a week. I was still committed to professional work at the time, so I would sit in the car working while he, I supposed would make an inception into the creative world. His drawing copy would have lines and a few drawings which he needed to copy or colour. After about three months, one evening I stepped into the studio where the kids were all spread out and were at different stages of drawing and painting. I found Anoushrayan standing at the teacher’s table and looking at the drawing that she was making. I repeated the visits and always found him standing and watching. The other kids told me that he always does that and never does anything on his own. I had a hunch as his drawing book was rather empty and one day asked him why he is not doing anything and just watching. He said he just likes to watch.

We never had any dreams for him. We were committed to support him in anything that would catch his fancy. He had first wanted to become a sweeper, as the broom was the most exciting thing and our maid always has to sweep while he was asleep or away at school lest he would take it away from her. Next was the garbage truck driver, who he felt drove such a fascinating huge truck and must be oh so powerful. Then he wanted to become a genetic engineer and a scientist and own a farm where a huge number of animals would be housed. He is sticking to it till now.

I figured that if he wants to read Biology in higher studies, he needs to learn to at least copy. So I enrolled myself for drawing classes. At home I would teach him what I learned and he happily copied my sketches. Anoushrayan was attracted to bright colours and all his drawings would always be very vibrant. He didn’t hesitate to use bright blue to paint a house which would have red coloured windows.

Now he has turned out to be a fairly good copier. Handwriting is another area which I had a lot of trouble training in; from holding the pencil / pen down to the strokes. There too he has done fairly well so far.

He loves to sing, he loves to dance, he loves to write (type), he loves to play and he loves to talk. Standing tall at 155 cm, 54kgs, well built Anoushrayan is a bright and breezy character all of twelve.