How soon is too soon? How much is too much? This relativity comes
in when there is a forum for comparison. And there were such occasions, several
of them in fact, when Asawari was thrown together with four other teenagers from
different continents and varied cultures.
It may have come out a number of times during their time together, that Asawari had
experienced pain, loss and tough emotions relatively earlier in life. There may have
dawned upon her that she was already thrown into the deep end while the rest
were still attending theory lessons on the ‘streamlined shape’. She may also
have experienced the discomfiture of having to face the poignancy of her own wisdom, that only comes
with personal struggles and drawn battles. Her sense of security may have
appeared brittle. There may have been in her eyes, an awareness of having sprung
from a country of conflicting and chequered progress.
Was she therefore, during her time in the Balkans, a child of too much and too soon?
It is true that children growing up in India lead existences that seamlessly
mesh with life around them. There is no bubble wrap to protect them from the
dust and heat of the humdrum around. They grow up as participants and witnesses
to most of life’s grand moments including deaths, illnesses, family drama and
celebrations. They put up with major and minor discomforts at times and are quite accustomed to
their personal spaces being invaded to become humming beehives. They grow up
in homes replete with stories of their ancestral thrift and hard work.
Perhaps
they are not emotionally wired for an unadulterated cheer and boundless
happiness. I would imagine they grow up viewing life as something to be lived
rather than a fresh fruit trifle cake that belongs to them by entitlement
because they are they; please to top the icing with a cherry please.
This was the lesson number two in Serbia and not necessarily for
Asawari alone.
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