Hobby classes taking the joy out of vacations

The other day there was a cartoon doing the rounds on social media in which parents are dancing with joy and a child is asking innocently, “Why are you so happy on hearing that my school is reopening after the vacation?” This trend of dreadfulness on the part of parents on the prospect of the closing of schools for holidays is a recent phenomenon. Anxious parents don’t want their child to miss a single activity. So they start making enquiries about hobby classes such as drawing, painting, dancing, music, craft and adventure camps much before the holidays begin.

Vacations are meant for students to relax from the routine of attending classes. Instead, children end up spending their hard-earned vacation attending another set of classes.

This thought took me back to the ’70s when my father used to ensure that he had the train reservations done a month in advance for the annual visit to my grandparents’ house for the summer vacation. We used to be so excited about the prospect of visiting our grandparents that the annual exams got as little attention as possible.

In preparation for the upcoming visit, two sets of clothes were stitched by my mother for my sister and me. They used to be two frocks for my sister and two shirts and shorts for me in matching colours. My mother used to make snacks such as ‘mathrees’ and ‘shakkar paaras’. On the day of the travel, enough food was stocked for the journey consisting of paranthas, puris and sabji.

Eating meals from outside was taboo. We carried water in an earthen pitcher and would watch in awe when my father would get it refilled at the station as the train halted for some time.

Compared to today’s adventure camps, our adventure trip used to start right from the house. Two cycle rickshaws were hired for the railway station and we inadvertently reached two hours before departure time. We used to roam aimlessly on the platform. Somehow, we would reach the destination station covered in sweat, coal dust and grime. From there, we would board a bus to the village but on reaching the nearest town, we would be told that the last bus for the village has left. We would spend a night with strangers, who would welcome us with open arms, and the next morning we would take the bus to our village.

A bullock cart would take us to the house in the middle of the farm where our grandparents stayed. For one month our parents would forget we existed and even we were never reminded of them. With so many cousins, it was adventure all the way. We would bathe under the tubewell or ride a bullock cart or go out in the fields and chat with village folk.

In those days when there were no avenues for hobby classes, we led a life full of adventure, joy and happiness. Now even with all the facilities, the mundane routine of hobby classes has led children to spend a monotonous vacation devoid of any youthful exuberance and creativity.

MY FATHER USED TO ENSURE THAT TRAIN RESERVATIONS WERE DONE A MONTH IN ADVANCE FOR VISIT TO MY GRANDPARENTS’ HOUSE FOR THE SUMMER VACATION