Whatever happened to ‘go outside and play’?
Ihelp my seven-year-old as she merrily gathers twigs in the garden needed for her craft workshop. The sight of the manicured lawn, flanked by hedges and rows of slim Ashoka trees would take anyone’s breath away, especially the way it looked now, after a brief rain shower. However, it was the first sight of the verdant expanse I had allowed myself since the day started.
How excited my little one would be if I allowed her run around freely for another hour, the blades of grass massaging the nooks and crannies of her soft feet. Yet, I’d rather make her attend the workshop where she would experiment with different techniques and get some creative stimulation from a qualified facilitator. “Mama, has the maid refilled the bird feeder?” I feel a pang of guilt as I look at the empty feeder hanging from the mango tree but we need to rush.
Soon we are out of this green oasis and headed to the venue of the workshop and en route I confirm a play date for her with a friend’s daughter.
Later that day, I sit by the bedroom window filling in her form for a science workshop. She has finished her homework and is settled in bed for a nap. At the craft workshop, she had arranged the twigs around a mason jar, a twine holding them in place to make a rustic tea light holder that now rests on her bedside.
I reflect upon the small pleasures she had to forego for it. What if I had let her grab a handful of mixed grains and lifted her up to reach the tree branch and refill the hanging bird feeder? The raw green mangoes hanging in clusters would have caught her attention too, and perhaps she would have plucked one, taking in the pungent aroma of the raw mangoes. How much time did we both get to soak in the sights, smells and sounds the garden offers and we ignored it in favour of the cluttered landscape of classes, workshops, homework, play dates, TV, and WhatsApp notifications!
In a quest to use the time available after her school hours more productively, I ended up planning every moment, chopping up her fastpaced day into slices. Enrol her into one more class and make her learn one more skill. Organise her playtime too!
What if I allowed her ample free time outdoors and called in the neighbours’ children to join her? Together they might begin to explore, learn to climb trees, build dens, peep into a bird’s nest and look at their eggs. Or just lie down on the grass and watch the birds fly overhead.
Watching the lawn from the bedroom window, I spy a squirrel swiftly climbing up a tree with a sock in mouth. It was probably preparing for the birth of its offspring and thus stole the tiny cloth off the drying rope to build a cosy nest. I toss aside the workshop form and wake up my daughter; to go and follow the naughty little creature.
Our garden can be the most entertaining playground and the most effective classroom for her.
I TOSS ASIDE THE WORKSHOP FORM AND WAKE UP MY DAUGHTER; TO GO AND FOLLOW THE NAUGHTY LITTLE CREATURE