Sometimes being a dad to a growing boy has its challenges. Apart from academics, humanity, and sportsmanship a dad also needs to help imbue practicality.
Just a few nights back as I was tucking Eka into bed, he asked me to lie down beside him and talk to him for a while. With an angelic face like his, who can refuse a request such as this!
I was lying down beside Eka and we were discussing his day and mine. Eka briefly skimmed over his day; summarising the bits he thought I would be interested in and leaving out the ones he know I would raise my eyebrows on. As the conversation subsided into silence, I thought it was time to excuse myself so that Eka could unwind and drift off to slumberland. He was all set for noddyland, with his soft toys beside him, eyes shut, breathing eased, and mischief managed. Then out of the blues he sprung a question that made me suck in a deep breath and compose myself to respond back...
"Papa, what does the word 'f**k' mean"?
Did I hear that correctly? Was a 7 year old asking me what f**k meant? Was this my boy who was asking me?
I asked Eka to repeat his question, genuinely concerned that I had misheard him.
"Papa, the word 'f**k'; what does it mean"?
Bam! There it was again, the word.
First thought: how does he know that word!
Second thought: how do I explain it...
Third thought: should I explain it?
Composing myself, I did a little parental probe on where had he heard the word. Was it that his classmates were using this word? Or had he heard it from a careless adult? Worse, was it something he had caught on from any of the telly channels we watch? I had more questions than answers for Eka. But I had to be brave. This was one of the innumerable instances where I would have to brace myself.
I remembered when I asked my mom this question. I was in Grade 5 and had found out this from a senior in school. I also recollected the medieval etymology of the word and wondered about those times. All this in flashback.
Anyways, out of the past and back to the blast.
In my serious but caring tone I explained that the word had an adult meaning that people had corrupted over time to make it a foul word. It wasn't a good word to use and I checked if Eka had ever heard it at home. Thankfully never, because it doesn't grace Neerja's or my vocabulary.
Still probing, Eka wanted to know what adult meaning. Drat! Foiled again in my pursuit to be nonchalant. Responding in the same tone, I told Eka it was something he would learn as he turned into an adult but was not important to know now.
Then Eka checked if it was a foul word everywhere.
Australia? Yes.
India? Yes.
Dubai? Yes.
Canada? Yes.
Having spanned the globe, he was satisfied that this wasn't a word meant for him.
Eka promised he wouldn't use this word ever. And I thought, that would be fine for now. Cross every bridge when you get to it.
Convinced that he had all the information needed, Eka wished me a good night and I wished him the same.
Tucked in, as he drifted to sleep if wondered - what next. I'd been let off easy with this one but the challenges would get tougher with each day.
Writing this I recollected a wonderful piece of commentary by the great Osho on this very word.
Watch it here
