The Masti Quotient – The importance of Joy

in parent-child interactions

You have heard of IQ, EQ and now even PQ. Let me share with you on another equally important

quotient – MQ or Masti Quotient.

I know, I know, you proabably think I have lost my marbles – Why would I compare something as

trivial as masti to things as vital as intelligence, emotion and passion?

But believe me masti is vital especially when it comes to the relationship between you and your

children.

Let me, as always, take my own example. I have always believed in having fun and indulging in

unadulterated madness with my kids.

It was my pleasurable duty to drop Aniket and Ankita to school. When Aniket was around seven I

would take him to his class and indulge in chutki with his classmates. This little ritual involved

clasping their hands in mine, making a circle with my thumb and middle finger around their thumbs

and go Snap, Snap! Everyone would queue up for this rite and Aniket would stand in a corner with a

proud smile on his face.

Once, Madhavi and I had gone to collect Aniket’s report card. Madhavi was talk ing to his class

teacher Mrs. Geeta. I was indulging in an extra session of chutki with a couple of his classmates.

Aniket was hanging around looking with puppy- like devotion at his favourite teacher.

“Hey Ani, want me to do chutki with your Geeta ma’am?” I whispered.

He looked at me, his eyes widening with horror.

This was just the motivation I needed.

“Aniket wants me to do chutki with you, Geeta,” I told her, holding out my hand.

Aniket shrank back shaking his head like a cuckoo clock gone berserk.

Geeta who had seen me perform chutki laughed and held out her hand. I indulged in the profound

ritual, my eyes on Aniket.

He looked at me with shock and awe and I could almost see his lips forming the words, “My father

weirdest…”

To this day our entire family, including Aniket, laughs itself hoarse over the masti episode.

Madhavi and I work for the same Steel Plant and we usually come home together. Several evenings,

when we returned home, the game of pittu or seven stones would be in progress with our kids and

the neighbours’ children participating. We two would jump into the fray, participating with energy

and enthusiasm that would put even Gen Z to shame.

During rains, we four would be indoors and often play Ludo, antakshari, name, place, animal thing

and the all time favourite Scrabble. While playing Ludo no one wanted me in their team because I

was supposed to have the worst luck. While participating in Antakshari I was allowed only to say the

words out not sing – I was a terrible singer and no one could tolerate my tryst with melody.

Whenever we used to go for birthday parties of my kids’ friends or my friends’ kids my job was cut

out. I had to manage the children. While the other fathers were busy with their cocktails and/ or

gossip (if you think practicing the art of tittle-tattle is a female prerogative, come and stay in our

township. You’ll revise your opinion before you can say Page 3!) about office politics and the state of

Planet Earth, I would be enjoying with the little ones.

Many of the fathers would have a rather condescending attitude and not consider me man enough.

The kids however regarded me as a perfect(ly mad) uncle and the hostesses as a male version of

Julie Andrews.

My colleague Arpita and her 12-year-old daughter have invented some real fun games. Both of them

are trained singers. But when they want to have fun they don’t do an in-house version of India has

got Talent. Rather they imagine how songs on 78 rpm would sound like if played in 45 or 33 rpm and

the other way round and sing these with all the chutzpah at their command. Now tell me how cool

and mastilicious is that!

I too developed my own brand of singing. Whenever I caught a cold (which was all too often), I was

prescribed gargling by my resident doctor. Whenever I used to gargle I would ‘hum’ a tune and ask

the kids to guess what it was. Since the difference in their ages is four years, I would give Ankita the

tougher tunes and Aniket the easier ones. This way, even a mundane activity like gargling would be

elevated to an act of masti.

While moments similar to what I described, would be happening in many homes, I am not sure in

how many homes the parents would be involved and that too with full -on masti quotient. There is a

perception in most parents, particularly dads, that if they indulge in a bit of harmless lunacy with

their kids, the latter would stop ‘respecting’ them and they wouldn’t be able to exercise discipline

which is important to make your child a ‘winner’. So they spend a lot of time and effort in doing their

‘duty’ – one of the most dreaded four letter words in the art and science of parenting.

To unleash masti you need not be a writer or a clown – though I know I am a bit of both. You only

have to invoke the child in you – yes there is one in each and every one of us. The problem is it has

been chained like Prometheus by our sense propriety, dignity et al.

I would like to reiterate that one of the key elements in a parent child relationship is masti. If you

can have fun together you can bond far better.

As someone said, “Sometimes all you need is to break the routine and have some fun.”

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