At a genteel theatre in Bombay, during a Summer Fiesta for children, I stumbled, quite unintentionally, into a live-action social experiment. It concerned parents who ushers their progeny into polite society without the forethought one might give to releasing a baby mongoose in a jewelry store. Children, both escorted and alarmingly unescorted, swarmed the hall. Some, starched and ribboned to perfection, perched in demure little clusters. Others galloped between seats like caffeinated monkeys, flashing the latest toy sensation. A few were deeply committed to redecorating the theatre chairs, one determined rip at a time.

The Prize-winning Mother sat beside me, waging an epic battle against ‘Candy Crush’ on her smart phone. She didn’t seem to know her untamed kid was with her. The young heir tugged at her dupatta, attempted to blindfold her, and demanded, at volume, to know when the movie would start. Mother remained in the meditative trance known only to serious gamers. She surfaced briefly when a friend appeared for a chat.

While Mother and friend exchanged social niceties, the aggrieved child launched his own campaign: batting at Mother’s face to interrupt, bouncing on Mother’s feet and, in a display of community spirit, mine. Eventually he leaning in and waved vigorously in the friend’s face. “Bye bye,” he said, repeatedly, in ascending decibels. The friend looked trapped. Mother didn’t notice.

As soon as the friend escaped, Mother floated back to Candy Crush. The child resumed his countdown to the movie.

A short note on discipline follows.

Please stay with me.

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