|The Art that made Tenzin cry|
|A moment before she cried!|
On one of my visits to the municipal office to pay some utility bills, a little boy in his 2nd year or so was crying so loud pointing at a tricycle near the shop and imagine the plight of the father who was red like me and was requesting the shop owner on paying the cost later in the evening. I am sure his cash at hand wasn’t enough. He had to finally buy the cycle and I could see a smile on the little boys’ watery face.
Again on a mundane stroll in the town here at Thimphu I was stopped to get a large pink ball that caught her eye displayed near a Pan shop. I had to get her the ball or else, face the consequence of being red-ashamed again.
At home when my little one does something not acceptable, mommy scolds her and pats her back. To this she cries out loud and looks for me. Until she finds me, this crying continues. After a while when her genuine cry in pain is gone and to make me feel cared for her, she deliberately cries out loud, sometimes making me laugh my heads off. Kids these days…I have to pick her up and say, “Gaaghi” several times to make her stop.
Once a day at least, this ‘Gaaghi’ sound for consoling my Tenzin echoes at home and during weekends the count multiples. A kid’s job is to push boundaries and I can never say where this boundary ends and begins and for my little one, I have read this somewhere but couldn’t put it exactly that way I read it. It goes something like, ‘A father will always give in to his daughters demands because the daughter knows there is at least one man who will never hurt her’.