The elder child goes to an international school. Which means
this is a school where every child, on average speaks about 3 languages
fluently. Feeling woefully inadequate since both kids now speak just one
language passably and although they understand the second perfectly, refuse to
communicate in it, my inner dragon mum arose with a roar and I decided that I
would speak in only the mother tongue with the kids, until I could show my face
in the international community again as a mother of multi-lingual children.
So, the next morning, as the kids come down, sleep-addled, I
ask them in Tamil to hurry up and drink their milk. Five minutes later, I seem
to have the need to repeat the same instructions in a louder tone (still in
Tamil) to kids. A further two minutes
later, I’m loud enough to rattle window panes and I have to ask the kids if, overnight, they seem to have contracted a sudden case of deafness. To which the
elder one nonchalantly replies, ‘Oh, sorry, Ma, since you were talking in
Tamil, I assumed you were talking to Appa.’ Grr. Of all the times to ignore
adult conversations, they choose the one time I’m not having one.
Undaunted, I continue with my endeavours with the Tamil
conversation throughout the morning. The kids, also undaunted continue to listen
to all I have to say and just answer me in English. This is so not going
according to plan! I am resisting the urge to bang my head against the wall. Right,
I retreat into the kitchen and over the course of preparing lunch formulate a
new plan. At lunch, as we are sitting down, the younger one asks ‘what’s fo’
lunch, Amma?’ I ignore her. ‘Ma?’ asks
the younger one not one to be deterred easily. This ignoring thing is such fun,
I think to myself. And I’m barely able to complete the thought before my head
is suddenly whipped around, and I’m staring at a pair of round eyes millimetres
from my face. And the question is repeated at ear-splitting decibels. ‘WHAT’S
FO’ LUNCH, AMMA?’ After the ringing in the ear subsides, I calmly inform the
crew gathered around the table that I shall only understand conversations in
Tamil during the course of lunch. The husband looks at me like I’ve announced
that I want to run away and join the circus (actually, given our daily antics,
that wouldn't be too far -fetched), snorts and asks me to pass the dal. The
kids initially try to get me to answer them despite their use of English and as
I continue to ignore them pointedly, settle into sullen silence. It’s actually
quite nice for a while, to have lunch in relative peace and quiet, without
constantly having to play judge and jury.
And then slowly I see an evil gleam creep into Child No.1’s eyes. Looking to Child No.2, he says, ‘you know, now
that Amma says she can’t understand English, you can talk about that secret
thing you did, and she won’t know at all.’ Child No.2 gets an equally evil gleam
in her eyes now and she responds.
‘Oh. That thing. But Amma will never
find out about it. Unless it starts to smell. Will it smell?’ And both of them
erupt into a fit of giggles.
Unbelievable! Kids, who mere seconds ago were at each
other’s throats have now developed camaraderie to the point of ESP! And what was the thing they’d done? And where? I feel a trickle of sweat running down my back
as I picture my lovely silk sarees smelling of God-knows-What. Or finding something squelchy in my best,
going-out-to-an-event-that-requires-heels shoes. No. I wasn’t going to admit defeat to a couple of things barely knee-high. And through gritted teeth I tell them the consequences of finding
something unsavoury where unsavoury things ought not to be. In Tamil. The
husband at that point politely points out that that is the sort of language
that he was hoping the kids wouldn’t learn.
And at that moment the kids decided to miraculously pick up the language and
started gleefully yelling out those lovely Tamil words at each other.
I have now resorted to saner methods of introducing Tamil to
the kids – tamil soaps, hoping that they will pick up the language if they hear
enough of it. Sadly, the only thing they seem to have picked up from the soaps
is the drama. Like we didn’t have enough of that
in the house.
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