A 14-year-old girl in Lalkuan (Uttarakhand) recently hit the headlines for committing suicide after her elder brother reprimanded her for excessive screen time. The headline took me instantly back to my own childhood, an era when a mobile phone belonged firmly to the realm of science fiction.
The television set was switched on strictly after 7 pm, and not beyond 10 pm. Sharing was the bedrock of our domestic existence. In our home, love was rarely served as pure dessert. It was always tempered with firm discipline. That hour marked extra study for me and my siblings, and bedtime for the younger children and elders alike. My mind drifted back to a winter afternoon in Amritsar when I was an eight-year-old. I had eaten peanuts to my heart’s content. By late evening, my stomach flared up. My mother’s response was threefold. First, a severe scolding for my lack of restraint. Second, a dose of a foul-tasting medicine mixture already prescribed by my regular doctor for tummy ache. Third, a visit to our family doctor the following morning. The doctor warned me of administering an injection in case I repeated such waywardness in the future. To my young mind, that threat stung far worse than the bellyache itself. But as tears spilled over, my mother gently pulled my head into her lap, massaging my aching stomach with her warm palms. “Excess of everything is bad, my child. Always remember that,” she advised.
I still do, even today.
