A real handful

Piyush entered the arena shouting, 'Hit them with my shoes! Hit them hard!'

There is a precocious child in our neighbourhood, named Piyush. He must not be more than four years old. One day, I was watering the plants, when I saw him come in a car with his father and grandfather. The grandfather was at the wheel and was trying to park the car keeping ample space on all sides. His son assisted by waving and giving instructions. Piyush, not to be left behind, took on the role of a traffic policeman. He gestured ‘go,’ ‘stop,’ ‘wait’ and ‘back’ like a pro. His father chuckled. I marvelled at the child’s antics.

Next day, he was going to the market with his mother. A dog was sitting comfortably on the roof of their car. His mother pointed to the car and said, “Look at the doggy. It is sitting on our car.” The boy immediately started shouting at the dog, “Doggy, get down from our car. Are you listening?” The dog opened one eye and looked at the cause of the uproar. Not to be outdone, Piyush threatened it with a slap. The dog indolently stretched itself and slowly got up and stepped off the car.

His grandfather usually takes him to the neighbourhood park, where he has befriended a Sikh boy. He once told his grandfather that he, too, wants to tie a ‘man-bun’ on top of his head because it looks very distinguished! Once the Sikh boy got into a fight with another group of boys, and they came to blows. Piyush stood on the side, an onlooker.

However, when things got out of hand, Piyush took off his shoes and entered the arena shouting, “Hit them! Hit them with my shoes! Hit them hard!” Ultimately, the group of boys conceded defeat and retreated. Piyush hugged his victorious friend. Now, the two get along like a house on fire. The Sikh boy is often seen ringing the doorbell to call Piyush to play in the park. He treats him like his sibling.

On Holi, he equipped himself with a pichkari with a huge tank strapped to his back and took delight in squirting colour on passers-by from his balcony. The vegetable sellers would look at him with consternation and would plead with him to spare them. Piyush would laugh jubilantly. Other children would threaten him and ask him to come down and face the music. He would get a sadistic pleasure in drenching them from afar.

I often think that his teacher will have her hands full when he enters school. Won’t managing a class of 30 such rowdy and unruly students be a monumental task, I wonder!