Last month en route to Goa, I spent an evening in Unkal. The contrast between the children I encountered in these two places was stark.
Meandering through the town streets, I happened to enter a church. I expected it to be empty though was pleasantly surprised by a group of children old and young sincerely practising for their dance & skit performance. I asked them if I could sit and watch for a while. They were warm and welcoming. They made eye contact and smiled.
We also had a brief conversation about what the kids were doing there late evening. I learnt they were part of the VBS (Vacation Bible Class). The church was a safe space for the kids to learn something useful and not fall into the wrong company. It made perfect sense. During my recent research conversations with mothers in Kanpur and Indore, almost all the moms I spoke to lamented about the lack of a safe space where their kids could hang out in the company of other children. The small townhouses open up on busy streets and that makes it not just physically unsafe but also exposes their children to language and behaviour that may not be age-appropriate. Hence most children stay indoors devoid of same-age company and free play. By contrast, the Unkal church kids spent their mornings and evenings at the church. The hot breakfast at church was a bonus. The church functioned like a community centre, welcoming even strangers like us. A few mothers were hanging out there too after their day's work. Posters made by the children, with empowering messages, adorned the walls. A whiteboard with the exact count of children across age groups who attended the VBS each day signalled to me that this was not a casual activity.
The children (mostly 8-10-year-olds) were remarkably calm and less fidgety. The sincerity to learn something new was apparent on their faces. When their instructor asked them to observe her, I did not see their attention flitting here or there. They were all eyes on the instructor. “They are so distinctly different from us”, pointed my city mouse. “Many a time the city mice are constantly fidgeting, fiddling around with themselves or others and are easily distracted”. We explored why and came up with a hypothesis that this could be attributed to their lifestyle and environment that was not flooded with stimulation. We also observed a lot more independence and risk-taking in the town mice and their parents doing their own thing and not hovering around them.
The next day at Goa was a completely different experience. There was a wedding to attend. My city mouse was looking for some same-age company. I assured her, going by my old memories of weddings that there would be lots of children to play with and even if we don't know them, they’ll end up befriending each other in no time. George Ball, an American diplomat, said “Nostalgia is a seductive liar”. Like a talented seductress, nostalgia will rope you in and cause you to lose sight of reality. And so it did. 99% of the children at the venue, irrespective of age had a personal digital device they were glued to. They hardly ate, ran, or even looked up and away from their screens. The adults around them chatted away amongst themselves. What was worse was even when these children were not with their devices they would not make eye contact with others or smile. Conversation with them was a distant dream.
I wondered, how would they learn the art of making conversations that the town mice were so easily adept at. What would be the long-term effects of social ineptitude or a lowering attention span on their life, health and future? Is there a tipping point beyond which over-exposure does a disservice to a child rather than making him smart? In a generation growing up with devices, would simple skills like connecting with other humans, being able to read body language or sustaining conversations give someone an edge over the rest?
I remember visiting Kashmir as an 8-year-old and another child on the bus journey between Srinagar and Jammu carrying a bagful of snow back home, only to realise somewhere along the way that it will eventually melt. As we crossed Unkal on our way back to Bangalore, I felt like that child who wanted to bag the simplicity, fewer choices and a more focused environment of the town and bring it back home as a gift for the city mouse who lives with me, though somewhere along the way, within a few days of having reached the city, that would all just melt or maybe I just needed a different metaphor - one that would last!
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