When the child is the father of man

Not all lessons of life are imbibed from books. We encounter many scattered here and there like leaves in a garden. This lesson of hope in despair didn’t come from the optimistic notes of Robert Browning’s poetry.

Neither did motivational writer Shiv Khera boost my sagging spirits. Rather, I was reminded of William Wordsworth’s quote that the child is the father of man. Yes, the statement made complete sense the other day when I learnt a lesson from my 10-year-old niece that helped me regain the friendship of a colleague.

I had returned home from college, tired and downcast. I headed straight for my room. Without bothering to switch on the light, I bolted the door from inside. My niece sensed something amiss.

Children have an awesome ability to gauge the mood of their elders. So she gently knocked at the door. Seething with rage over an argument with a colleague, I was adamant not to open the door. Another gentle knock followed. This time accompanied with a polite entreaty. The sweet voice of the child forced me to open the door.

Unlike grown-ups, the little girl didn’t fire a salvo of questions. Instead, she quietly sat by my side. For some time, we didn’t exchange even a monosyllable. I’m sure she examined the situation instinctively.

Though not advanced in years, she seemed equipped enough to deal with the matter sensitively. She gave me a warm hug.

The warmth of her tender arms was enough to melt my anger. Much to my surprise, she said that I’d had an argument. I nodded. “I too argue with friends in school. Sometimes, we yell at each another. But in the games period, we play together as though nothing’s happened,” she said.

Next, she suggested I call up the colleague with whom I had had an argument. She said I should simply enquire about his well-being without referring to our argument.

The idea did not cut ice with me initially as my ego didn’t allow me to make the call. She waited patiently till I relented. I was amazed when my colleague instantly picked up the phone as though he were waiting for the call. Before I could ask about his well-being, he apologised and said he wanted to bury the otherwise trivial matter. We ended the conversation on a friendly note.

In the heart of hearts, I imagined that his child must have also played the part like my niece in convincing him to cool down.

The next day, we met and greeted each other in college with the same enthusiasm.

Many a times, we lose a good relationship only due to an inflated ego.

Children are not afflicted with this syndrome. That’s why there is no space for bitterness and hatred in their world. So, isn’t the child really the father of the man?