Enfant Politicale

How clever is a baby? This seems like an easy question right? After all we have been fed a steady diet of childhood innocence and “blank slate” philosophies over many, many years. So much so that term like “babe in the woods” has taken on mythically idiomatic terms. Everyone knows that babies are clean hearted, sweet creatures with a pure white heart filled with goodness and love for their nurturers i.e. parents.

Umm…no.

Take it from me ladies and gentlemen, all those things about innocent babies you have heard so far is a load of bull of the freshest, stinkiest variety. There are few greater political creatures than 2-year old babies. In fact I believe that the term babies should not even be applied to them any more after the first three months. The moment they are able to focus their eyes, they start manipulating the person making the silliest goo-goo noises at them from a few feet above their angelic faces.

My own daughter is an excellent case in point. Very sweet, very kind, very nice to me – when she wants that piece of chocolate from my hand. The moment she has emotionally blackmailed me into giving her that piece of worthless food, she is all business again. Which in her case nowadays usually means beating me up with her toy plastic sword – her latest sadistic hobby.

But that’s not all. She has a radar built into her brain that immediately picks up which of her parents is in a mellower mood at any point in time. And then she will attack that weakness mercilessly. A typical conversation with one of us (in this case, me) goes like this:

Teesta: Papa…want chips

Me: Not now baby. I am busy…working.

Teesta: Papaaaa…want chips!

Me (angry now): I said NO! No chips at 10 in the morning!

Teesta (playing her trump card): Momaaaaaaaa! Mommmaaaa!

Wife (comes running): What have you been doing to her, you brute?

Me (spluttering): Me? Me? Forgive me for trying to look to her health. She wants chips now!

Teesta (big teardrops in her eyes): Papa not nice.

Wife: C’mon baby. Papa is bad. I’ll give you chips. Making your own little baby cry…hmph!

And as I watch in horrified fascination, Teesta gives me a triumphant smile as she goes away with her current political ally. And I think to myself, this cannot be my child.

I was pretty miffed I admit, but the problem with children, especially your own, is that it is impossible to be angry with them for long. After all they are really rather sweet. And I have to admit, that they are rather indiscriminate in their politics. Sort of like a smaller, cuter, Amar Singh. They will align with whoever can fulfill their immediate need for a sweet, or a playground visit, be it the father or the mother. And they are pretty open about it. No subterfuge. No holier-than-thou attitude. They are essentially telling you – Dude, this is the way it is. You really have no choice but to love me unconditionally. No alternatives.

I have also realized that at some level we adults actually like being manipulated this way. It make us feel special, needed, loved by our children. I got proof of that this Sunday when my daughter wanted to go and play in the rain. My wife wouldn’t allow her of course, but I decided to sneak her out. Both of us got gloriously wet in the driving rain, jumping and horsing around.

And Teesta’s verdict – “Papa good. Momma not nice.”

Ah…sweet sweet music to my ears!

 

*A version of this article was published in eSakal recently.