Welcome to Munchkin land!
I’ve been an unwitting participant, if not merely a witness, in the past few months to a dizzying volley of unprecedented changes in my life. While there were moments of wanting to drive through life on neutral gear or crush the irresistible urge to flee, I must admit that life has indeed been kind beyond measure. Before I dive into the nitty-gritty, I must take a moment here to give you some background, a prequel if you will.
Not very long ago, while devouring the book ‘Me Before You’ by Jojo Moyes, I had a moment of epiphany. Amidst sobs (the book’s a legitimate weepy), I experienced a sudden clarity that sparked a surge of confidence and self-direction, leading me straight to the plush lobby of an IB school. While my loved ones beamed with positivity, I fretted over how life would surely dig bottomless trenches around the fortress of my comfort zone.
As I treaded precariously on the tightrope of familiarity, life gleefully stirred a cauldron of uncomfortable experiences. Soon enough, I was rudely pushed into a world of far too many novel experiences, which could very well be called reality checkpoints.
I’ve always marveled at how beautifully life balances itself. It’s about time I introduce you to the protagonists of my tale, the Kinder to my Joy, the ketchup to my aloo tikki — lo and behold! — our very own munchkins from Munchkin land. For your reference, my co-teacher and I will go by the names Julien and Maurice (from the ‘Madagascar’ fame), while our tiny tots (eighteen in all) will be affectionately referred to as ‘munchkins’ for the remainder of this blog.
I was thoroughly unprepared for my first day of school. As the room filled with the pitter-patter of little feet, I was caught off guard by their demeanor and sunny dispositions. I had worried myself sick over how I would console a crying child, but little did I know back then that I was dealing with a bunch of tough nuts.
While Julien, with her ready wit and charm, was winning the munchkins over, I was desperately trying to thaw my frozen muscles in the perpetually chilled environment of Munchkin land (an unpleasant reaction to new situations) — much to my horror. Munchkins, as you must know, are highly intuitive, and it hardly took them a few minutes to notice my discomfort. They effortlessly drew me into their circle, relaxed my awkwardness, and coaxed me out of my shell with their intoxicating laughter and endless chatter.
As amazing as a box of assorted chocolates may appear, binging will only cause your tummy to act up. We are blessed with a rather diverse bunch of munchkins, as capable of pushing our buttons all at once as they are of making us grin from ear to ear. One fateful afternoon, out of exasperation, Julien announced that she had never had trouble establishing order in her class and that it was time for immediate measures. We racked our brains together for days, and after mulling over different possibilities, we gloated over our impending victory.
If there’s one thing that teaching has taught me, it’s that no plan, no matter how foolproof, runs the risk of backfiring, and what may have worked for one class doesn’t necessarily work for another. With that in mind, Julien and I laid out our snares, all the while admiring our combined genius. While it would be hard for me to recount every detail, I’d like to share our most memorable failures.
Getting preschoolers to line up is a task that can move you to tears of frustration. Preschool teachers develop the admirable skill of walking backward over time, a talent that doesn’t find a worthy mention on our resumes. Since it was my job to chaperone them around school for specialist classes, I tried everything from wheedling to bribing to scolding, and more. You might think that after all these measures, I would have successfully managed to make them walk in line with military precision. Life’s not all that simple, my friend.
Since shouting out commands had never worked for me in the past, I tried using a tune from the beloved classic ‘Mary Poppins,’ hoping earnestly for it to work its magic on the munchkins. I also borrowed a little something from the internet to serve the same purpose. Alas, apart from initially piquing their interest, I found myself crooning away in the empty corridors while they walked about aimlessly. Nevertheless, the songs are worth a mention:
‘Chim chim-in-ey, chim chim-in-ey, chim chim cher-oo, I wish for a straight line, I wish you do too!’
‘Our eyes are facing forward, we’re standing straight and tall, our hands are placed behind our backs, we’re ready for the hall.’
Along the same lines, we attempted to address the chatterbox among the munchkins. She had a knack for effortlessly diverting her friends’ attention from us to herself, much to our bewilderment and amazement.
Julien and I devised what we thought was an ingenious plan: offering her the spotlight on stage to learn a lesson firsthand. Little did we know, we were handing Gandalf his staff. While Julien and I exchanged looks of victory, our munchkin audience was entranced, and before we knew it, so were we.
It’s remarkable how four-year-olds can sometimes utter pearls of wisdom through their gap-toothed mouths, an uncanny gift that elevates them straight to the league of Rumi and Osho. One day, a munchkin refused to go to the Fish Bowl area (undoubtedly the most beloved spot in school).
When asked why she didn’t feel like going, she replied, ‘I don’t like it when I’m having too much fun.’ While her words may have held a simple, straightforward meaning, to me, they resonated deeply: overindulgence drains you out, and too much of anything isn’t good; balance is the key. Every now and then, our munchkins inadvertently leave us with lofty thoughts to ponder while they jauntily go about their business.
What I love most about our munchkins are their pure hearts, untainted by adult cynicism. They accept Julien and me with open arms, even on days when we dare to turn up to school sans makeup. Their admiration remains unfaltering; we still reign as the queens or striking divas of their hearts.
When children look at you, they’re peering into your innate character, minus the baggage of physical attributes or false pretense that social norms entail. So, the next time a munchkin looks you in the eye, know that there isn’t much you can hide from their piercing gaze.
The most rewarding aspect of our job is the unconditional love showered upon us. Hugs and cuddles are exchanged freely and generously around Munchkin land. There are days when you’re in dire need of a pick-me-up, and suddenly, out of nowhere, a munchkin materializes, hugs you tightly, looks you straight in the eye, says ‘I love you,’ and takes off. Even before you can make sense of what transpired, your legs turn into jelly, your heart melts into a gooey pulp, and you smile bemusedly, tottering from the full effect of the potent words sputtered from a well-meaning four-year-old.
“A child can teach an adult three things: to be happy for no reason, to always be busy with something, and to know how to demand with all his might that which he desires.” ~ Paulo Coelho
The End.
