How green was my valley

Monica Bakhle ponders on those tech free days, when there were thrills in simple things like spotting butterflies

I often wonder how we spent our free time in our childhood when there was no TV, Cable, DVDs, Computer Games, Xbox or any of the innumerable gizmos, which are increasingly difficult to keep pace with. I remember being an absolute TV addict from a very young age (I was told that my father was forced to purchase a TV to save the embarrassment of me going to the neighbours to watch TV). I used to wait in eager anticipation for every Wednesday for 'Chitrahaar' the weekly half-an-hour movie songs programme. This and the weekly Star Trek and Sunday movie, was the extent to our TV watching.

That left us plenty of time to explore other avenues of interest during free time. Of course luckily, the nature of my father's job was such that we were more often than not, posted in far-flung locations, which were more towns than cities. Our houses would always be engulfed amidst plenty of nature all around. Infact, I remember we had even grown wheat and pulses during one particular posting. A vegetable garden was always taken for granted along with freshly plucked vegetables for all our meals.

Even without these expensive toys and modern technology, our lives were so peaceful, stress free and enjoyable. In comparison I feel sorry for the modern generation kids, (and I am myself a victim of it), for they did not have these experiences nor do I expect them to have in the near future, given the current scenario we live in.

My two-year-old daughter can definitely pronounce "bupperpie"(butterfly), but I doubt she will recognize one on sight. My son has not experienced the joy of running behind different varieties of butterflies and observing them from close quarters. Their different hues providing a gorgeous kaleidoscope to the naked eye. I wonder if he will ever feel ecstatic on climbing guava trees and plucking the fresh produce, after picking on the best ones, to be eaten straight off the branches. I remember we did that a lot, in fact we even climbed the neighbour's trees, which somehow always seem to bear better and tastier fruit. There was a thrill even in escaping the clutches of the old gardener with the wrinkled-weather-beaten face. I doubt this thrill can be matched by any of the thrills that our Playstation or Nintendo can offer.

Staining our dresses with gathered mulberries and being shouted at by our mothers is something I will never be able to retaliate with my kids. Why, I have stopped sighting mulberries altogether and the only rare occasions I do happen to chance upon them is on an occasional trip to a hill station.

We used to be deliriously happy on Saturday and Sunday mornings playing with our friends. We would have a game of the day, ranging from 'Hide and Seek' to 'Hopscotch'. Today's kids are glued to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse specials on weekends. Their playtime with friends is restricted to comparing the bicycles that each one flaunts. I cannot believe that by the time my son has barely turned six, he has already changed three bikes. I think I probably owned two cycles my entire school life that included the tricycle in my childhood, which was shared between my brother and me.

How many children today can boast of being able to identify different fruit trees like jamun, guava, mango, berry, on sight? Or have had the experience of a wild hare making a home in their front lawns.

Yes, technological advancement has surely made our kids bolder, sharper, probably more mature, but at what price? The price of rapidly losing innocence and alienation from Mother Nature. But I am tempted to do my bit and have the best of both worlds as far as possible. That probably explains the reason we choose a holiday amidst nature as at least one holiday option a year. And hope our kids still feel connected with the flora, fauna and other little pleasures. Those, which cannot be provided by any amount of TV, toys or gaming softwares. So I dream on and continue hoping that our younger generation can look at what works best for them. Perhaps we all can try in our small ways, after all how difficult could it really be?