…Annnndd the television belongs to…

If your household has just 2 generations – that is – Yours and your toddler’s, then you are blessed in one way atleast – You may get the idiot box to yourself sometime during the day.

Being the second generation in a household of three generations (and sometimes four when am at my mom’s) has dangerous connotations to my state of sanity – in more ways than one.

 How much ever I try not to – I must admit that I do use electronics for babysitting my son when I need some time to clear the mess around at home.  Hence my 3 year old has over a period of time gotten used to various cartoons both on television and the internet. And guess what? There are cartoons he loathed initially but the familiarity while switching channels has broadened his horizon.

SO if Disney isn’t working he switches to Pogo – that gives the third generation in the household ample opportunities to exhaust his television hours during the day.

And Once upon a time there was a woman who looked down upon all women who were pinned to the never ending dramatic soap operas Indian television broadcasted. Yes – that was my MIL 3.5 years ago – till on a fateful day my grandmother (Damn her!!) introduced her to the world of soap operas.

I must admit that at 86 she still is quite skilful in influencing minds.

From then on 6 pm to 10 pm MIL is glued onto soap operas.

And when am not doing chores or sleeping or playing with Dhruv – The Idiot box is owned by Dhruv – on goes Chotta Bheem, Thomas Train, Mickey Mouse and so on.

I get frustrated and switch on my laptop – maybe I can see something on youtube. Nope.

The moment I switch on the laptop, the television gets switched off and on goes Peppa Pig – another cartoon Dhruv would die for.

And to think I used to nastily look down upon allll my little cousins while we were small for their endless fetish for cartoons – I think they secretly cursed me to be blessed with a cartoon loving son. Sigh.

I go to my mom’s place for some solace occasionally –  that is when I dump all my motherly responsibilities onto her and sit down to watch some television myself.

Enter the Villain- my grandmother. I lose my mind seeing the same episode 4 times a day because she sleeps through bits of it (and No she will not admit sleeping). Any normal person can see it once in 6 months and still weave up the story. But at 86 my grandma is neither normal nor kind enough to let the younger ones take over her only priced property – the television remote.

So the soap opera starts and grandma dozes off, Dhruv very quietly tip toes to her and skilfully takes the remote from her hands and hands it over to me – ‘Amma – This is non sense – don’t see – only crying happens in these serials. We’ll see Thomas – Happy Amma???’

Of Course I am as happy as happy can be!!

‘I have too much work Mommy!’


Somewhere between the second birthday and third – there was a divine intervention in my child’s world.

Until then, my son was oblivious of worldly matters – unaware of terms like – busy and stress and work overload – But some night – I dont know which one – God came into his dream and I assume said the following – ‘How dare you sleep thus Dhruv?!? You have so much work to do – You need to follow your father’s footsteps and assume that the whole world is your responsibility.’

There my world came crashing down.

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