Real heroes let their hard work do the talking
Battles used to often break out at home over the TV remote, the point of contention being the channel to be watched. The combative warriors were my husband and my son, leaving me to take on the role of the ‘peacekeeping force’, always ready to act as a mediator between the two factions.
No superpower in the world wielded the authority to solve this ongoing dispute in the strife-torn area of my TV lounge. The rule was that the bearer of the remote called the shots.
My 18-year-old brave heart wanted to watch the sports channel, while my 45-year-old commander was addicted to the news channels.
One fine day, however, things changed. My husband, with quick surgical precision, got hold of the remote. And so, according to the household norm, it had to be the news
channel playing that day.
Sulking in the aftermath of the battle, my son settled down on the couch nearby.
I ordered a piping hot pizza to diffuse the air of animosity in the room. We all started watching the news.
Munching through his slice, my son asked , “Papa is it really good to be a chowkidar or a chaiwala?”
My husband squirmed and quickly replied, “No son, these are mere slogans. Please don’t take them seriously. You concentrate on your studies and choose a proper career.”
After some time, the young man asked again,
“Papa , who are these people questioning the Balakot air strikes. Are they different from us?” “No, no son, they are very much our own flesh and blood. They are members of opposition parties, so they are merely fulfilling their role. They don’t need to be taken seriously either. You should go by facts.”
Now it was my turn to ask the ‘epitome ‘ of knowledge in our family, “Suno ji , I have heard in the news that marijuana has become legal in Canada. And many housewives are swearing by its good effects.”
“Where do you get all this information from,” was the quick response.
Just then the news of the Me Too movement flashed on the screen. Somewhat embarrassed, my husband tried to send my son away on some pretext of an errand, but he would not budge. Then followed a few features on a tragic air crash, drought in Cape Town, and a story of how Vijay Mallya and Nirav Modi fled the country’.
Then “good news” appeared as a silver lining in the cloud. It showed some cricketers and lawyers being conferred national awards by the President of India. My husband gloated with pride, “See, son, you should strive to be like them. Your merit will be rewarded so handsomely.”
The very next day news of these awardees joining a particular national party started doing the rounds.
My husband tried his best to hide the news from my son, lest he was able to see through the farce of such national awards.
“Papa, I am really learning a lot. I didn’t know that there was so much of misery in the world. That people are so uncouth, they are hurling abuses on national television, be it an anchor , or a party spokesperson , or a national leader.”
Unable to answer all the uncomfortable questions , my husband turned to my son,
“Ok beta , you better watch your sports channel. Which game do you follow?”
My son’s heart skipped a beat. He knew he had won the battle! Suppressing his excitement, he put on a sober countenance.
“I follow cricket. It has no political parties and players have no reason to shout their lungs out. They work very hard and they receive awards on real merit. They are the real heroes who thrive on excellence. You get to see flashy stadia, awe-inspiring teams, and in-depth interviews of the star players, the cheerleaders...”
For once my husband agreed, “Yes, yes, sports are very good for a healthy mind and body.”
Thanks to IPL, peace broke out at home… at least for the next one-and-a-half months!
I WAS THE PEACEKEEPING FORCE WHEN BATTLE BROKE OUT BETWEEN MY HUBBY AND MY SON OVER A TV REMOTE