How to train your dragon…

Do not be fooled!
Children are like dragons — defiant monsters impossible to control, spitting fire, rolling their eyes gobbling unspoken threats. 
Fine, not yours, but mine certainly is. 
And unlike Daenerys Targaryen, I feel no pride in being the mother of a dragon. 
Dragons are not household pets.
Dogs are easily available, cats roam free, people have rabbits, turtles and possibly even chimps but dragons, mind you, come rare. 
Dragons are legendary.
They are far from meek and resist all commands. 
And like them, my sons too, cannot be tamed or trained. 
They cannot be told or instructed.
Yes, there is a possibility that you may form a bond with them. And then, out of the generosity of their hearts, they may follow your lead.   
But don’t be mistaken. It is in their will and might to follow or defy.
And I have learnt with time and experience to watch carefully as I push ahead with my ideas and expectations, trying slowly to nudge my way into their head. 
And no, you cannot imagine the position I am in.  
You may think you can empathise, but I have my doubts.
While the world around seems to follow a pace, I cautiously take each step in the hope that as night sets in, I would have helped the dragon finish three meals (which includes more than just sweets and carbs); worked through classwork and homework, got him to all his classes, in and out of bath and worked through all the roadblocks that will pop up without fail. Such as the bowl and spoon, he decided he had to take to school this morning to have chocos soaked in milk, cos that simply is how chocos must be eaten—soaked in milk! Or the cutlet that just could not be had, because he HATES it, though he has never ever taken a bite of it ever before. Or his classwork which he DID NOT want to complete because studying is not important, and watching and playing IS IMPORTANT. 
It is believed that earlier cartographers used the Latin phrase hic sunt dracones, i.e., “the dragons are here”, to denote dangerous or unexplored territories. Sounds like my home.
The nameplate outside our door will soon have the warning.
You can only begin to imagine my distaste for school, my hate for pages of written work in the name of education and my disgust for myself as I prepare to coax and coddle but end up as the shrieking witch of South Kolkata
But even the witch must be wary…just the right amount of yells, spells and curses lest the dragon spews fire and burns the evening to ashes. 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *