Dilemma Over Spiderman

After a brunch peppered with dad’s ritualistic but softly delivered sermon about the benefits of early rising and breakfasting, I sat down with the day’s newspapers on the diwan. At first sight I thought dad had switched to a crime-reporter. A second look and reality hit me – it was the day after a bomb had exploded in the Mecca Masjid compound near the Charminar in the old city of Hyderabad, shortly after the Friday prayers. The front, middle and other pages of the local daily were full of photographs, which left a lump in my throat and induced an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Every single television channel had the explosion up in its headlines. There were camera shots of the location, panel discussions to unearth the how and why of the incident, interviews with a broad spectrum of officials, victims/their relatives, witnesses, intellectuals, party leaders/workers. The city was observing a bandh with silent protest marches planned for the day. The department of police was under fire for claiming additional lives….

While I felt grief for the victims I had another problem playing on my mind. Earlier in the day my husband had informed me that his brother had planned an evening out with our girls to go watch Spiderman III. I was uncomfortable with the idea but my sleepy mind had just mumbled an ok then. Now I was certainly not willing to let the girls take that 20-30 km ride to the cinema hall to watch a special effects movie, at least, not when so many other families had been affected in our own city.

Just as I was wondering how best to convey this decision to the girls, for I knew it wouldn’t go down well with them, their chachi called to know when they would be ready. Mimi, turned to me and for a second I had no answer but since the lady was waiting for a confirmation I firmly said that I did not consider it a good idea to go watch a movie that particular day.

The younger one stormed out of the lounge amidst tears and the accusation, "I knew you wouldn’t be sending us this evening; you just needed an excuse!"
Preferring to continue the conversation with her chachi from another extension, Mimi excused herself from the lounge. I don’t know what transpired between the two but she marched straight to her room right after and I could hear a loud thud from across the corridor, which implied she had thrown herself on the bed in silent protest.

I inhaled deeply and walked into the room. As expected, Mimi was sulking in a corner of the bed, face towards the wall. Chotu, the more vocal and outspoken of the two had her vocal chords charged with all the energy an eight-year old could muster and some more. She was in no mood to entertain reason. I let her give went to her frustration first and when she seemed to have calmed down a bit I expressed my uneasiness at the prospect of enjoying oneself when people had died for no fault of theirs. Watching silly programs on the television at home was bad enough but going all the way to a theatre, the booked tickets notwithstanding, seemed inappropriate to me.

"So what if people have died, why can’t we go watch a movie?" She demanded to know.

A thousand bombs exploded within me.

Mom’s voice filtered in from a remote distance:

Kaam ke peeche bachiyon se gafil horahi ho, ek din pachtaogi! You need to be with them at this impressionable age to give them the right upbringing.
I feared for the first time that instant that maybe, just maybe my mother was right. Perhaps I had indeed failed in imparting the right values in them for how else could I explain such apathy towards another human being’s suffering?
Then I reckoned it was her young age, which was the reason behind her lack of compassion. But how do I explain to a young mind that while death is a natural progression of life it becomes a tragedy when it is unnatural, violent or sudden. I realized she also needed to be explained why you need to feel for others and not just for yourself in times of distress.

I sat down with her and put it as simply as I could:

You needn’t cry just at your loss; you need to feel the loss of others too. That’s what makes you a compassionate person. While you are crying here for not being allowed to watch a movie, there are several children your age in a particular part of the city crying right at this moment over a lost father or brother. While you wish to enjoy yourself with cousins in a multiplex those children have uncertainty staring them at their face; they may have no food for the day and the stove in the kitchen may not be lit for many more days to come.

The incident hasn’t affected any of our people. Besides, we can’t do anything for them from here, so why can’t we go? She still persisted to know.

Here’s what you can do I told her.

You could thank God that only one out of the four bombs exploded…

You could thank the Almighty that many more lives could have been lost but weren’t…

You could thank Him for keeping you safe in the comforts of your home while less fortunate ones have had to lose their sense of security and well being…..

Just then we heard a commotion from across the road. We headed back to the lounge to find a group of 50-60 young boys walking down the neighborhood street with black flags in their hands. Two vans of the rapid action force trailed them, just in case…….

See those boys? I asked my daughters.

They are no way related to the victims but still they have risked their lives to stage a protest, a silent protest to express solidarity with those who are now dead and also those who have been left devastated by these deaths. This is what I have been trying to explain to you. You need not suffer a tragedy to feel it; you should feel it to empathize with those who have been unfortunate to suffer it, be it in your own city, another city, state or country.

Mimi was up on the bed now, her face registering a sense of understanding in place of the sulk. Chotu was rubbing her cheeks with my dupatta trying to remove the dried trail her tears had left.

She still had her doubts, though.

Why didn’t chacha think of all this before making the plan? She wondered loudly…
Perhaps he didn’t foresee a situation when he booked the tickets, I offered….
But now that something has happened he could have surely cancelled the program?

Or dad could have stopped him….

Perhaps….

But why didn’t any of them do so? Mimi wanted to know this time.

I don’t know about them, I said. I stopped you today because I thought this was the right thing to do.

Besides, I would have worried myself sick here while you would have enjoyed the movie there.

And God forbid, if something untoward were to happen, your chacha would have been under extra pressure and responsibility to save you.

Yeah, poor chacha, he would have been in a fix……

The clouds were receding; a bright horizon was making its appearance.

And know what mom? Chotu reasoned with all seriousness now.

It isn’t the last day of the show. We could always watch it some other time.

And even dad can join us then! Mimi brightened up.

I was glad my girls and I were at the same wavelength.

While going to bed that night, both of them thanked me for not letting them go out that evening…

It’s been three weeks now and we haven’t discussed Spiderman yet…

I think I must surprise them this weekend…