Growing up in a family with two strict ladies – my mother and my aunt, ensured that I was brought up well mannered. Not that gents are ill mannered or anything of that sort (!) but fathers, uncles and grandfathers are more often than not, more of the happy go lucky individuals , the friends of the kids, the fun guys , while the mothers, aunts and even grandmothers for that matter, are sticklers for discipline , manners , traditions and the like . My aunt Addie was the tougher of the two. She had no kids of her own, so I guess that compounded the problem for me (but made me a better person at the same time). So where do I begin? Well I guess my earliest recollection would be of going to church. We always reached church about fifteen minutes early, and the time before the service was spent with the adult’s chit- chatting among themselves. I would often hang around at the back of the group, counting the birds flying overhead or searching for faces and animals in the clouds – I was rather shy. However, before I could pluck up courage to slink away to meet friends of my own, I had to wish anybody and everybody who I happened to see. Back then everyone was greeted with either uncle or aunty, so it was a never ending “good morning aunty and good morning uncle”. I had also been told never to mutter under my breath but to be loud and clear, so also to smile and look the person in the eye while wishing them rather than at my shoes! We often went visiting and there too, the rules were clearly spelled out – Wish, smile, speak when spoken to, do always not grab at the snacks or cool drinks when offered, and be polite . Mealtimes were also, not a free for all, muck in barbecue! We ate at the table and usually had fixed places to sit while the Bush radio (with large valves) often played softly in the background. Chewing with the mouth closed and not emitting any sound while doing so are two of the basics I remember. Then of course there were the staples- elbows off the table, no talking with food in the mouth, not using the spoon like a shovel , no day dreaming or playing with food on the plate, no wasting food , no gulping water and being careful not to drop any food or spill any water on the pristine white damask table cloth . Please let me take the liberty of explaining as lucidly as possible what playing with the food on the plate means. I hated vegetables like tomatoes, cabbage, brinjals, lady fingers and a few more. So rather than waste food and get scolded at the end while trying to slip away, I would attempt (more often than not in vain) to mash the vegetables up and spread them around the plate or hide them under mutton or chicken bones! When there was a party or guests were visiting formally, I always had to ensure I was bathed, dressed, and waiting. Any other way was frowned upon and those were some mighty large frowns. I was often the one who ran to open the door and welcome the guests in with a smile and a wish! I was then expected to make small talk if the adults were not yet in the room. That often revolved around my studies and my marks and I detested those times. If there are two words I remember being taught and reminded about ever so often, they were “Please and Thank you”. Asking for anything without preceding it with a “Please” was almost sacrilege so also with receiving something and not saying “Thank you”! Very few people had cars those days, but I distinctly remember the few occasions when a friend came over and took us for a drive. My excitement knew no bounds and I would contemplate the same for hours in advance. No sooner would we walk to the gate than I would open the door and jump in only to be told to come out and let the adults get in first! I had two female cousins who often spent times with all of us and that was fun, as being the only son, I was often quite lonely at home. So, whenever they came for a holiday we would play and enjoy ourselves thoroughly. Being around nine or ten, I was probably boisterous at times and some of the games we played would end in an argument and tears. In my defence I must add that my cousins were not saints and were often equally or more to blame. A few of those arguments unfortunately ended in hand to hand(read hair pulling ) combat as well. Irrespective of who was to blame or what the provocation was , I was always found to be the guilty party and the lesson that was imparted load and clear was “boys and men do not raise their hands to girls and women” I would then be sent to some room ,to sit quietly and study or read or whatever, while the cousins would be tip toeing around the house making fun and continuing to annoy me . Using bad language was unheard of in our home. No adult used it. I did attempt on a few occasions to use some very minor “so called bad words” that I had picked up in school, and what happened next is a fact – my mother lit a match and showed it to me saying “if you ever use those words again I will burn your tongue”. I was so scared that I vowed never to use a bad word again! Answering back, shouting in anger, and arguing with adults were also things which got me in quite a spot of trouble. While I was not the proverbial pest or anything, I probably argued a bit more than necessary and while I did not mean to be rude, I probably sounded awfully out of hand which truthfully, I was not ! While I never stole money, I remember being warned about the consequences if I did. There was also a story I recollect being told by my mother about an old wizened mother, who kept supporting her son in all his wrong doings as he grew up – she covered up for all his lies, petty crimes and inconsistencies, till one day he did something very dreadful and was jailed . On the day he was to be hanged, his mother went to see him. He supposedly wept bitterly & yelled at her in anger saying that if only she had corrected him as a small boy and later as a young man and not covered up for him, all this would never have happened. The story hit home & really made me think. Even today I firmly believe that “good manners and behaviour ” are not something old fashioned or which have gone out of date – they should be an essential part of very child’s life. In fact, they are crucial to good upbringing. As an educationist, I have worked closely with innumerable pupils and parents for close to four decades. I have interacted with some amazing parents who were very loving and kind, yet firm with their wards. They brooked no nonsense and did what was right for the kid. That I believe is good parenting. Then there are those for whom anything goes in the name of love, with kids getting away with blue murder and going scot free, irrespective of what they do or do not do for that matter! Unfortunately, that is setting the child up for failure in the years ahead . Yes, I know that times have changed, and relationships have evolved over the years with parents being almost friends to their children, but here is the bottom line – parents should hopefully know where to draw the line and when to say ‘no’ . Unfortunately, that is a word a child of today does not want to or like to hear and thereby lies the folly of our times. I have seen children ruling the roost at home , throwing temper tantrums and calling the shots. Saying ‘no’ often stirs up negative emotions, but a firm , polite ‘no’, with a brief explanation as to why it is not a ‘yes’ is always advisable, as it helps set up boundaries and limits – so very important for a growing child. We cannot deny that a large percentage of parents believe that the “yes culture” is the way forward & the best way to display love and appreciation, but then – like it or not – you are going to have a child who will be ill equipped to face the barriers and challenges of the real world. And barriers and challenges there will be. Of course, there is the other school of thought which says that you don’t have to use the word ‘no’ and can agree to disagree, but I would rather not beat about the bush. Just my opinion as a father and a teacher.
