About Words and More (Kids)

This is an effort to encourage creative writing by children (between 7 and 18 years) in a variety of genres: stories, prose, rhyme, poetry, articles, or any other format. We welcome all entries and will provide editorial support and help to all youngsters who wish to express themselves through the written word. Entries, along with pictures (if any) can be e-mailed to Parul Gupta (parulmudita@hotmail.com.)

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Love in the Indian Joint Family

Everybody loves a love story, especially a real life one. But, while stories of people who had the courage to break the bounds of convention hold universal appeal, there also exist real life stories of deep and abiding love between people who live out their lives within the shackles of convention, in soul-destroying conditions, and yet, find the strength, through their love, to create a special world of their own that nothing can impinge upon. And here the allusion is not to poverty or material hardships (that’s a separate story for another occasion), but to unnecessary, created ones, stemming from insecurities that engender intolerance, jealousy, envy and set in motion chains of sordid, unsavoury events that are carefully kept within wraps to safeguard the family’s ‘honour’ in public.

Indian society has always prided itself upon its system of family support. However, this support often comes at the almost prohibitive price of avid interference, intrusion and imposition, not to mention the never-ending power games. While cases of exemplary support from in-laws do exist (albeit rarely), and those of exploitation of elders by the younger generations are publicized far and wide, the travails of young couples locked in the stranglehold of family pressures, guilt trips and unreasonable expectations often go unsung. Almost the only place these are aired is on family soap operas on the idiot box, to be treated with disdain by ‘sensible people’. So, it is quite on the cards that a number of readers might find the incidents discussed here either improbable, or even exasperating, just like people’s reactions to the movie ‘Patiala House’—while most positive, go-ahead people panned the movie in unequivocal terms, the story of the depressive, defeated, dutiful son struck a chord with a number of people who are themselves unable to break free of similar situations due to a (maybe misplaced) sense of filial duty.

The anecdotes referred to here are real life stories. However, the names have been changed, as have some minor details, since the protagonists have put their duty towards their family foremost all their lives and have agreed to let this story see the light of day only under condition of anonymity. And while the cases mentioned here have successfully navigated the shoals of family pressures and expectations, there are many, many others who have been forced apart … either into the divorce courts, or into legal separations, and sometimes, even to suicide.

Sadhana from an affluent Delhi-based business family relates how she and her husband were startled by an urgent banging on their door, minutes after they had entered their room on their wedding night. It was her husband’s sister, furious with her brother for wanting to spend time with his bride, and with the ‘usurper’ Sadhana for suddenly becoming so important in his life. The lady and her mother continue to do their utmost to wreak havoc in the couple’s married life, even after almost 15 years of marriage!

Incredible as it might sound to a rational mind, there are innumerable such cases that no one talks about—in metropolitan cities, no less. Bela from Mumbai shares how her extremely orthodox and ritual-loving mother-in-law brought her into the house after marriage without performing any of the traditional threshold rites. Thereafter she stood guard over her for about 12 hours, refusing to let her son be alone with his bride, till she was forcibly evicted (laughingly) by some helpful relatives. And in this 12-hour period of vigil she even managed to plonk herself in the middle of their marriage bed and take a two-hour nap, while the newly-weds and all the relatives stared at each other in shock!

Rama, the daughter of an affluent Delhi businessman married her college sweetheart after seven years of waiting for him to become ‘self-supporting’ and started her married life in a two-bedroom government quarter in South Delhi—the bride of the second of her parents-in-laws’ three sons. In spite of the fact that the sons were all earning well and could very well afford larger living space, the in-laws were adamant about ‘living together’. Rama and her husband were assigned a ‘bedroom’ made of plywood boards in a corner of the lobby, with a queen-sized bed and a rickety wardrobe. And to add to it, they were not allowed to shut the door—if they did, the in-laws would start hammering at it hysterically!

Aruna was married into a ‘traditional north-Indian joint family’—in Detroit, USA, of all places—in the late 1990s. She was expected to cover her head in the presence of elders, not speak to her husband in public (much less, touch him), and to take over the entire running of the household (albeit without any authority or decision-making power) from the day she got married. To top it all, her father-in-law, a cancer patient for the past seven years—a fact that Aruna’s parents had been unaware of—succumbed to his illness within a year of her marriage, earning for her the stigma of ‘manhoos’ (inauspicious), and causing untold misery in her married life.

The couples in these cases—and innumerable others like them—have managed to find their equilibrium after the inevitable misunderstandings, heart-burnings and tumultuous times, sometimes lasting as long as 10 years. Some have found their answers in spirituality, others in a blind adherence to astrology and the occult sciences, and yet others in mastering the art of ignoring irrelevances. Life goes on, and people learn to work their way around the most difficult situations. However, an interesting observation in most such cases is that the elders are usually people who migrated to metros from small towns or to Western countries from India. While never having lived in joint families for any length of time themselves, they are, nevertheless, determined to cling, limpet-like, to the lives of the younger couples.

Says noted Delhi-based psychiatrist Dr Kamal Kumar, “It is usually their fear of finding themselves ousted from their sons’ lives, the way their own parents were ousted from theirs, that makes them try to maintain a stranglehold on the young couples from the day they get married.”

“Another factor that comes into play,” he adds, “is the fact that the parents have always lived by their own rules and upon their own terms, and are thus, unable to tolerate any signs of individualism in the younger couples. They want to rule the roast as always and deny their children even basic acceptance as a couple”.

However, economic factors too are often seen to play a role in such situations. Dr Kamal Kumar agrees: “In quite a few families, mothers and sisters are actuated into their destructive behaviour, not only by possessiveness towards the son/brother and intolerance for the ‘outsider’, but also by a determination to retain control over the next ‘earning member’, as the son is perceived in traditional societies.” As an Economist friend remarks: “You can call it ‘primitive capital accumulation’ in its most elementary form: absolute control over the means of production, both monetary and human.”

But despite the exponentially rising rates of divorce and legal separations, it is to the immense credit of these innumerable couples that they, even today, in these ‘changed times’, cling to their commitment to each other in the midst of such conditions … for them their love is, indeed, forever.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

The Lady who was a Farmer


by Aanya Gupta

Once upon a time, there lived an old lady who had a farm. On her farm she had sheep. But one day she fell sick and could not take care of her sheep. That winter every thing was white and she lost her sheep .When the snow melted, the old lady became better.
The old lady found her lost sheep in the forest. The sheep looked fine with more shiny fur.

The lady felt happy and thought that it would be a perfect day to pick apples. She picked the apples from the tree and ate some. She gave one each to all the sheep and saved some for the neighbors.

She came back home. She put her sheep back in the barn. She then made pie out of her freshly picked apples and gave one to her cousin, who lived in California.

Her sister visited her after three weeks and then stayed with her for a long time. They had a spectacular time together.

After her sister left, the old lady visited her younger brother. She stayed with him for three months. Before leaving for her brother’s house, she requested her neighbor Jenny to take care of her herd of sheep and count them every hour as they liked to wander around.

After she came back home, her grand daughter Milia came to visit her and stayed back with her forever to take care of her grand mother.

They lived happily ever after.

Aanya Gupta is 7 years old. She is a student of Class I in Texas, USA. She likes to write stories and poems and to pretend play. She is very fond of drawing and sketching. She loves anything to do with fairies.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Loving Mom

A Mothers' Day poem by Arshia Deep


Alone in the darkness;
Cold, scared, lonely;
Suddenly
Something touches me:
Warmth.
I turn around
And see her;
She whispers,
"I love you"!

Arshia Deep is 10 years old. She is a class IV student in USA. She enjoys Mathematics and Science, art and music. She loves nature and animals.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Runaway


story and illustration by Prakhya Bhageria

I am Sid and I am 10 years old. I always used to be very sad. My parents never had time for me. My dad spent the whole day in office and my mom was always busy with her kitty-parties. Whenever they were at home, they spent all their time fighting with each other. I felt they didn’t even know that I existed! There came a time when I couldn’t bear it and one night, when everyone was asleep, I left the house without telling anyone.

I did not know where to go. I just kept walking down the street, staring at my shadow, when I suddenly bumped into a man.

“I am sorry sir!” I said to the man.

“Oh! No problem,” replied the man. “You should not roam here and there alone at this time of the night, kid. Your parents must be worried; should I drop you home?” he asked.

“No, thank you. I don’t want to go there again. I am just looking for a place to live”, I explained to him.

The man looked shocked. He thought something over and said, “Well, you can live with me, but you must work at my café.” I thought it was a very good idea. The man looked very kind. But I was wrong. That man was a horrid person. He would hit me and give me food only once a day. He made me work very hard from morning to night.

One day, when I was cleaning the door of the café, a very old woman passed by. Her leg hit against a large stone and she tripped. I ran to her as fast as I could and steadied her. She was very thankful. She started talking to me. After a while she noticed the scars on my body and asked me about them. I told her all about myself. She felt sorry for me.

“Would you like to live with me? I live all alone,” said the old woman. It was like a dream come true. I just wanted to leave that place. So, I said yes.

I started living in the old woman’s house. She was very loving. I started calling her ‘Grandma’. She had a small grocery store. I told her why I left home. Then she told me why she lived alone. “It’s a long story,” she said. “I used lived with my husband and my son. We were one of the rich families here. But one day, about 11 years ago, he left the house an….”

“Why did he leave the house?” I interrupted.

“Because he liked a girl and wanted to marry her. My husband did not like her and would not allow this. So, he left the house and after a year my husband also died. Now I don’t even know where my son is.” I felt sorry for her and said, “Don’t be sad, Grandma. I am also like your son.” I started living happily with her, helping her in the shop and going to a government school.

One day, after two months, when I was walking in the market with Grandma, I saw a wall poster with my picture. It said: Sid Miller: Missing since 2 months.

My eyes filled with tears. Grandma tried to comfort me. Then the shadow of a man fell on us and I saw it was my dad. His eyes filled with tears. He hugged me as hard as he could.

I turned towards Grandma and saw a river flowing from her eyes. I asked her why she was crying, but she did not reply. She just kept staring unblinkingly at my dad. My dad too was staring at Grandma. Suddenly, he said “Mum!” in a choked voice and hugged her tightly. Now I live happily with mom, dad and grandma. Mom and dad spend a lot of time with me and love me a lot.


Prakhya Bhageria is 11 years old and lives in New Delhi, India. She is a student of Class VII. She enjoys reading, surfing the net, crafts and art.

Friday, May 6, 2011

A Parrot's Birthday Party


by Meghna Goel & Ashutosh Pahwa

Once upon a time there was a man named Jack. He had a little daughter Jennifer. One day Jack went into a forest and saw a lonely parrot. It looked ill. So he brought the parrot home and nursed it to health.

Jennifer loved the parrot very much and named her Molly. Soon Molly laid an egg. Out of it hatched a cute little baby parrot. They named her Polly. Polly started growing into a lovely bird. She loved her mother, Jennifer and Jack best in the world.

One day Molly fell very ill and died. Polly cried and cried and cried. She missed her mother very much. She was so sad that she stopped singing and eating. When Jennifer saw this she felt very sad. She kept thinking how she could cheer Polly up.

Suddenly she got a very good idea. Polly’s birthday was one week away. Jennifer decided to organize a birthday party for Polly. Jennifer had many friends who had birds as pets. These birds were Polly’s friends too.

Next morning when Polly woke up, she saw her friends around her and saw lots of green peppers, wonderful fruits, nuts and crackers. They had a lovely birthday party and Polly was happy again.


Meghna Goel 11 years old and lives in New Delhi, India. She is a student of Class VI. She loves anything to do with stories, music, crafts and art.

Ashutosh Pahwa is 8 years old and lives in New Delhi, India. He is a student of Class III. He loves stories, art, sports and magic tricks.