Finally, the Ganesha festival events in our society are over. Sports, talent shows, dance, quiz, drawing and what not! It was a new experience for San. A first where she had to compete with other kids. She didn't know what it is like to compete. She thought she is good (the best) at everything.
When we talk about competitions, we talk about prizes and ranks. That's how it is (although, I wish it wasn't).
San had already had a not-so-great experience in the race that she ran, hoping that she'd be the first! She showed no interest in the fancy dress show, so I did not even try. She was, however, quite excited about the talent show where she was going to sing. I too was.
That evening, the kids started performing, showcasing the best of their skills on the stage. Confident, bold, happy kids. When San's name was called, she stuck to Papa dear and didn't want to go. We let her be. I had a small talk with her to cheer her up and build her confidence. I told her how beautifully she sings. The second time, she went up on the stage along with me. She wanted me to hold the mike. I did. But she froze. She kept looking at the audience who was cheering her. No effect. She remained frozen. I kept asking her what happened. No response. She just froze. She was clearly overwhelmed, and I too was.
San stayed in her shell with I-don't-know-what in her mind. Like a good Mommy, I should have kept quiet and let her be. But I couldn't help but ask her a couple of times, "What in the world happened?" The Mommy in me was restless and confused. I stayed in the restless mode, watching the other kids perform, and San stayed in the silent mode. I came to my senses later and realized how stupid I was to act like that. I said sorry to San, hugged her, and kissed her goodnight.
The next day, before the dance event was supposed to start, she walked up to the empty stage, and performed her song in front of me, the only audience. We had a good time playing pretend!
To my surprise, her dance performance went well. A solo performance and one in a group. I was grinning from ear to ear while watching her perform. All was well. She was down with fever, still, she did well.
In her favorite, the drawing competition, they'd to color a monkey face. The dreamy kid she is, she kept looking around before she started off with the blue crayon. She showed it to me and I said, "Use any color you want. Color it the way you like. Just do it." The result was a rainbow-faced monkey. Super!
So, all was supposed to end well, until they announced the results and gave away prizes yesterday. San's hungry eyes kept looking at the shiny medals and the trophies, hoping that she'd get at least one. No. She didn't. That's when her tears broke loose. The only thing she knew was she did not get a prize for the race, the dance, and her drawing. "Why?", she wondered. Of course, she was the best for herself and for us. I told her that we'll give her a prize from our side for performing so well. But nothing worked. What consoled her in the end was a chocolate that someone gave her. All was well once again.
Such a roller-coaster ride it was for San (and me)! I wish there were no competitions. And if there are, then they must reward everyone. But then, that is not how it is or will be. The firsts and the seconds will always be there. The medals and the trophies will always shine in their hands.
Maybe, I'll not say all of this if San wins one. Maybe, I'll forget all about the competition when I'll get to click a picture of San holding a trophy. Someday, maybe! :-)
When we talk about competitions, we talk about prizes and ranks. That's how it is (although, I wish it wasn't).
San had already had a not-so-great experience in the race that she ran, hoping that she'd be the first! She showed no interest in the fancy dress show, so I did not even try. She was, however, quite excited about the talent show where she was going to sing. I too was.
That evening, the kids started performing, showcasing the best of their skills on the stage. Confident, bold, happy kids. When San's name was called, she stuck to Papa dear and didn't want to go. We let her be. I had a small talk with her to cheer her up and build her confidence. I told her how beautifully she sings. The second time, she went up on the stage along with me. She wanted me to hold the mike. I did. But she froze. She kept looking at the audience who was cheering her. No effect. She remained frozen. I kept asking her what happened. No response. She just froze. She was clearly overwhelmed, and I too was.
San stayed in her shell with I-don't-know-what in her mind. Like a good Mommy, I should have kept quiet and let her be. But I couldn't help but ask her a couple of times, "What in the world happened?" The Mommy in me was restless and confused. I stayed in the restless mode, watching the other kids perform, and San stayed in the silent mode. I came to my senses later and realized how stupid I was to act like that. I said sorry to San, hugged her, and kissed her goodnight.
The next day, before the dance event was supposed to start, she walked up to the empty stage, and performed her song in front of me, the only audience. We had a good time playing pretend!
To my surprise, her dance performance went well. A solo performance and one in a group. I was grinning from ear to ear while watching her perform. All was well. She was down with fever, still, she did well.
In her favorite, the drawing competition, they'd to color a monkey face. The dreamy kid she is, she kept looking around before she started off with the blue crayon. She showed it to me and I said, "Use any color you want. Color it the way you like. Just do it." The result was a rainbow-faced monkey. Super!So, all was supposed to end well, until they announced the results and gave away prizes yesterday. San's hungry eyes kept looking at the shiny medals and the trophies, hoping that she'd get at least one. No. She didn't. That's when her tears broke loose. The only thing she knew was she did not get a prize for the race, the dance, and her drawing. "Why?", she wondered. Of course, she was the best for herself and for us. I told her that we'll give her a prize from our side for performing so well. But nothing worked. What consoled her in the end was a chocolate that someone gave her. All was well once again.
Such a roller-coaster ride it was for San (and me)! I wish there were no competitions. And if there are, then they must reward everyone. But then, that is not how it is or will be. The firsts and the seconds will always be there. The medals and the trophies will always shine in their hands.Maybe, I'll not say all of this if San wins one. Maybe, I'll forget all about the competition when I'll get to click a picture of San holding a trophy. Someday, maybe! :-)
