Absolutely Everybody....

The brat had his annual day yesterday. In keeping with a new trend set by the school since the previous year, the annual day concert is held in an open air ground which is practically next door from home, and given that it is the thick end of December bitingly cold (for cold blooded creatures like me, am surely descended from the reptiles) and with the mossies in full biting mode, this is not an experience I enjoy. Spare the five minutes that the brat will be on stage, shaking his booty.

The costume this time was a black satin shirt with ruffled sleeves in multicoloured layers of sequinned fabric and black leatherite pants. Like any mother would, I thanked my stars it was full sleeved and long trousered. I remembered one year when the brat played an African native and his costume comprised a short skirt and a garland of leaves, and I spent all my time going backstage to ensure he had clothed himself in a pullover and proper long trousers I had given the teacher, given that they spent the better part of two hours in the wings waiting for the show get going and their moment under the spotlights to arrive.

Still for all, mamma wasnt going to take a chance this time around. He was bundled into a full sleeved body fitting tee under the black satin ruffled shirt much to his disgust and given a hoodie to wear over both until he was to get onto the stage. And mamma kept walking the entire distance between the parents seating enclosure to the shamianas where the kids were herded, busy engaging in fist fights of the most vile order while the teachers tried vainly to bring them to some semblance of order.

The show? I wasnt impressed. I'm a tough critic. I thought the script was the work of a writer smoking something illegal. The speech and drama part of it all had uninspiring dialogue and performances that were at the best stilted. The songs chosen for the dances, in keeping with the rather vague theme of 'A world without boundaries" (which according to me should have focussed on communication, starting from wireless, to telephone and then to the internet, and the miracles of a true world without boundaries, but since no one asked me I'm keeping zipped) were rather dull. But the kids danced their hearts out. And the brat came on. His eyes twinkling, a huge grin splitting his face. And I forgot the chill seeping into my bones, the mosquitoes buzzing in my ears, and the irritation at feeling my stomach growling. It is a clench your heart in your chest moment when you see your child up there on stage. God help me, my eyes were tearing over so much I could barely see him. He danced, he jumped, he had a great time.

And when I went to collect him, "Mamma, where's Pappa? He seed me dancing? You seed me dancing? How I danced?"

"Very well, my son! You danced brilliantly!" Mamma hastened to reassure him and simultaneously get him into a hoodie sweatshirt given that he had discarded the ruffled shirt because "Id was scatchy on my hans."

"I have decided. I'm going to become a dancer when I grow up. Like Justin Beeber. You make my video and put id on Utoob and sen it to Usher. Den I'll become famuz."

Err. You also need to know how to sing and play a musical instrument, child, for that. He looked at me incredulously. "Is so easy to sing," and belted out the entire lyrics to Love Me at one go.
Now, he insisted. Make the Youtube video and send it to Usher. Or who is the Usher of India? I'm still asking around for an answer to that one.