When AI Became Too Much, I Found NI —                                Nature Intelligence

AI became too much; I found NI

AI, AI, AI………………………………. AI!!!

Hufff!

Somewhere between all this AI, meetings, work, responsibilities and life itself, I realised I was getting lost.

And strangely, the solution I needed was not another AI.

It was NI — Nature Intelligence.

You may ask, what is Nature Intelligence?

Wait.

By the time you finish reading this blog, probably you will understand what I mean.

The past one month had been mentally stressful for me. Not because of AI :) but because life itself had become a little tough.

Sometimes life is strange.

You take one step forward and suddenly something pulls you two steps back. Then you somehow fight again, climb back and feel that finally you have achieved something.

Only to turn around and realise…

You are standing exactly where you started.

Neither up.

Nor down.

Same place.

And sometimes the question starts troubling you:

Why are things not going right even when you know your intentions are right?

Those thoughts had started circling inside my head again and again.

And somewhere between all that noise, one thought came.

I need to go somewhere close to nature.

I didn’t know where.

Apparently, my wife already knew.

The Birthday Surprise

The Birthday Surpise

For my birthday, she had planned something without telling me.

She knows one thing about me very well.

Give me a choice between a luxury building in the middle of a city and a small place surrounded by trees, birds, rivers and animals…

I will probably disappear into the second option without thinking twice.

One evening she simply said,

“Tomorrow, I am taking you somewhere. A place where you can just be yourself and stay away from everything that is disturbing you.”

That one sentence immediately triggered my curiosity.

“Where?”

“No questions.”

“At least give me one clue.”

“No.”

Then came the final instruction.

“Tomorrow get ready. Until we reach a certain point, just follow my instructions.”

There was only one possible response.

“OK Boss!”

Where Is She Taking Me?

Next morning, around 8 AM, we started from Bengaluru.

We took the familiar route towards Kanakapura Road.

My wife was enjoying the journey.

The children were busy.

And my mind had started its own investigation.

Kanakapura…

Where can this road possibly lead?

As we crossed Kanakapura and continued further, my guesses became narrower.

Then we crossed Halagur.

Now I had almost solved the mystery.

“It is either Bheemeshwari or Galibore!”

My wife smiled.

That smile itself was enough confirmation.

And soon the road asked us to turn left.

Within a few kilometres, Bengaluru somehow felt much farther away than it actually was.

The Road Where Bengaluru Slowly Disappeared

Trees began appearing on both sides.

Buildings disappeared.

Traffic disappeared.

Horns disappeared.

Then came the Forest Department gate.

We entered our name, contact details and vehicle number.

And once the barrier opened, it felt as though another world had opened with it.

No impatient driver behind you.

No one flashing headlights.

No race to overtake.

No signal turning red just when you reach it.

Only a narrow road twisting through the forest.

Trees.

Fresh air.

Bird calls.

And silence.

The kind of silence that is not really silent.

Because nature is constantly talking.

You only start hearing it when human noise disappears.

Every few metres, we had someone waiting to welcome us.

Monkeys.

Sitting beside the road like they had been officially appointed as reception staff.

Some looked directly at our car.

Some sat with their families.

Some appeared to be waiting for passing vehicles to provide breakfast.

And that was also a sad little reminder of what we humans have done.

We have made some wild monkeys so dependent on roadside feeding that instead of searching naturally for food, they wait for bananas, biscuits and whatever people throw from vehicles.

A forest animal slowly learning human laziness.

So tempting as it may be—don’t feed wildlife.

Further ahead, we spotted deer between the trees.

And suddenly the journey itself had become part of the destination.

Finally, Bheemeshwari

Thanks to Bengaluru traffic, our planned arrival time had already surrendered.

We finally reached Bheemeshwari Adventure and Nature Camp around 12:45 PM.

The camp, operated by Jungle Lodges and Resorts, sits beside the Cauvery within the larger wilderness of the Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary. Bengaluru is roughly 100–105 km away by road, yet when you arrive here, the city feels much farther away.

The first welcome was simple.

Fresh lemon juice.

No fancy carbonated welcome drink.

And somehow it suited the place perfectly.

After registration and ID formalities, a staff member explained the accommodation, meal timings, nature walk, coracle ride and adventure activities.

By then the children had stopped listening.

Because the real show had started outside.

Monkeys were everywhere.

And this time we also spotted langurs.

They looked completely different from the monkeys our children normally see around Bengaluru—long limbs, long tails, dark faces and an almost royal way of sitting on the trees.

For the kids, the holiday had officially begun.

Our Room in the Middle of the Forest

We had opted for the suite room.

It was surprisingly spacious for the four of us, with enough room for a larger family too.

But the best part was not inside the room.

It was what waited when we stepped outside.

After dropping the luggage and freshening up, we started walking towards Gol Ghar, where meals are served.

It takes a few minutes to walk from some of the accommodations, but nobody really complains about walking here.

Because beside you flows the Cauvery.

Above you are trees filled with birds and monkeys.

Somewhere along the riverbanks you may spot crocodiles resting near the rocks.

Spotted deer, sambar, elephants and wild dogs are among the animals found in this landscape, while the river supports mahseer and mugger crocodiles. The larger Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary extends across more than 1,000 sq km of protected landscape.

Every few steps there was something to see.

And somewhere during that walk, my daughter suddenly asked:

“Appa, why do we call Kaveri a Jeeva Nadhi?”

There are moments when children ask questions for which fathers are expected to have instant Google inside their heads.

Unfortunately, there was hardly any network.

And apparently Appa’s internal search engine needed an update.

I looked towards my wife.

She looked back.

The examination had begun.

Why Is Kaveri Called Jeeva Nadhi?

Why is Kaveri Called Jeeva Nadhi

I decided facts alone were not going to work with children.

So I started with a story.

“Once upon a time, high in the misty green hills of Kodagu, a tiny stream began her journey. Her name was Kaveri…”

Little Kaveri travelled down the hills, between forests and rocks.

On the way she gave water to trees.

Animals came to drink from her.

Villages grew beside her.

Farmers depended on her for their fields.

Towns and cities waited for her water.

Fish lived in her waters and birds built their lives around the forests she supported.

Unlike seasonal streams that disappear after the rains, the Cauvery is a perennial river system, sustained through its catchment, tributaries, monsoon rainfall, groundwater and managed reservoirs.

So generation after generation, people did not see Kaveri as simply water flowing between two banks.

They saw her as something that carried life.

A mother.

Kaveri Thaayi.

A Jeeva Nadhi — a river of life.

My wife then added the line that made the explanation much simpler for the children.

“Imagine if Kaveri stopped flowing. Think about all the people, trees, animals, farms and cities waiting for her water. That is why protecting a river is almost the same as protecting life.”

The children became quiet for a moment.

And so did I.

Maybe This Was Nature Intelligence

By the time our conversation ended, we were standing on rocks near the river.

Nobody was talking.

There was no need.

The only sound was water moving between the rocks.

Somewhere in the forest an animal called.

Birds answered from another direction.

Wind moved through the trees.

I stood there for a few moments without thinking about work.

Without thinking about what went wrong last week.

Without worrying about what might happen next week.

And that was when the term came to my mind.

Nature Intelligence.

AI gives us answers.

Nature sometimes removes the need for questions.

Maybe that is NI.

No algorithm.

No prompt.

No subscription.

No update.

Just sit quietly beside a river for ten minutes and somehow your mind begins reorganising itself.

The problem may still exist.

Nothing outside you might have changed.

But something inside you becomes calmer.

That itself sometimes is enough.

Nature Intelligence Can Wait. First, Lunch.

All this philosophy is wonderful until the stomach starts sending notifications.

We were hungry.

Very hungry.

Our next target became Gol Ghar.

Lunch was buffet style with separate vegetarian and non-vegetarian sections.

And the food was genuinely good.

The kind where you tell yourself:

“Enough, this is the last serving.”

Then somehow return with another plate.

After lunch we slowly walked back towards the room.

My watch proudly showed thousands of steps.

We decided it was time for the children to take a small nap.

That plan lasted approximately…

Zero minutes.

Because an entire battalion had arrived outside our room.

The Monkey Battalion

Suddenly monkeys appeared from every direction.

On trees.

Near the cottages.

On branches.

Jumping from one side to another.

Some were sitting peacefully with their families while younger ones behaved exactly like human children who had consumed too much sugar.

Our kids forgot everything else.

For almost an hour, we sat watching monkeys play while our daughters played nearby.

Nobody needed television.

Nobody asked for YouTube.

Nobody complained about internet.

There was already a live wildlife channel running outside our door.

Free subscription.

Unlimited episodes.

Then Came Adventure

Adventure by the Cauvery

Soon we got the call for adventure activities.

The adventure package is charged separately, but if you haven’t tried these activities before, it adds a completely different flavour to the stay. The current listed bundle includes activities such as zip-line, Burma loops, parallel walk, log walk and elephant-foot walk, subject to operating conditions.

My daughter immediately transformed into a daredevil.

Elephant walk.

Burma walk.

Log walk.

Zip-line.

One after another.

Meanwhile, some adults—including her father—were watching with the expression of people carefully calculating whether courage is hereditary.

Kids don’t analyse risk the way adults do.

They simply see something interesting and say,

“I want to do it!”

Sometimes I think growing older is mainly the process of learning too many reasons to be scared.

The Cauvery From a Coracle

After the adventure activities came something all four of us could enjoy together.

The coracle ride.

We wore our life jackets, climbed into the traditional round boat and slowly moved onto the Cauvery.

From the river, the forest looks different.

You are no longer watching the river.

You are inside its world.

Rocks rise from the water.

Trees lean towards the banks.

Birds move between branches.

And everyone quietly keeps looking at the rocks hoping to spot a crocodile.

The coracle ride is subject to river and water conditions, which makes perfect sense—you are visiting a living river, not an amusement park ride.

That unpredictability is part of the experience.

Why Are the Deer Coming Near Humans?

Later in the evening, we took another walk.

Around that time, deer and wild boar sometimes move closer to the camp area.

I found that curious.

I asked one of the staff members,

“Why are they coming near the resort? Aren’t they afraid of people?”

His reply stayed with me.

He explained that some animals appear to feel relatively secure around the quieter camp surroundings and are accustomed to the lack of disturbance there.

I jokingly asked,

“But humans are more dangerous, right?”

He smiled.

What struck me was the larger idea.

Wild animals don’t necessarily need humans to become their friends.

They simply need us not to disturb them.

No shouting.

No chasing.

No throwing stones.

No feeding.

No trying to get one ridiculous selfie from two feet away.

Sometimes coexistence is simply knowing when to leave another living creature alone.

Fire, Forest and Dinner

By evening, everyone slowly gathered near Gol Ghar again.

Campfire.

A little barbecue.

Children running around.

People talking quietly.

Darkness settling over the forest.

Later there was a wildlife documentary followed by dinner.

Jungle Lodges’ usual schedule places the campfire and barbecue around 7 PM, wildlife film around 8 PM and dinner afterwards.

Dinner once again made us say,

“Wow.”

Maybe everything tastes better when you have spent the entire day walking, climbing and breathing forest air.

By the time we returned to our room, everybody was tired.

But there was still one excitement left.

Morning trekking.

6:15 AM — The Forest Alarm

Around 6:15 in the morning, we woke up.

Tea and coffee arrived at the doorstep.

There is something special about drinking morning coffee in a forest.

At home, coffee wakes the body.

Here, the forest is already awake before you.

Birds had started their meetings long before us.

After getting ready, we joined the morning group.

Guests can opt for a nature walk or guided trek depending on the programme.

Our trek was around three kilometres towards a viewpoint overlooking the Cauvery landscape.

The beginning was easy.

Then came the climb.

Very soon the adults developed a highly sophisticated trekking technique:

Walk.

Stop.

Pretend to admire tree.

Breathe.

Walk again.

Meanwhile, my daughter was moving ahead like she had an urgent appointment at the summit.

She reached before many of us.

The rest of us eventually arrived with equal amounts of happiness and shortage of oxygen.

But once we reached the top…

Worth it.

Below us was the forest.

Beyond it, the Cauvery wound through the landscape.

For a few minutes everybody simply stood there looking.

No photograph completely captures that feeling.

Some places are meant to remain partly inside your memory.

“Let’s Not Go Back to Bangalore”

After trekking, we returned to camp.

Breakfast was ready.

By then we were tired, hungry and happy—the perfect combination for eating more than necessary.

And then came the worst part of every good trip.

Packing.

Check-out.

Goodbye.

We carried our bags and slowly started walking away from the room.

That was when my younger daughter looked at us and said,

“I don’t want to go to Bangalore. Let’s stay here only.”

Everybody laughed.

But somewhere I understood exactly what she meant.

For one day, the kids had forgotten screens.

They had watched monkeys instead of cartoons.

Deer instead of videos.

A river instead of reels.

They climbed, walked, laughed, searched for crocodiles, watched langurs and listened to sounds coming from a forest.

Maybe they had discovered Nature Intelligence too.

They just didn’t need a name for it.

What I Carried Back

When we drove out through the same forest gate, nothing magical had happened to my problems.

Work was still waiting.

Responsibilities were still waiting.

Life had not suddenly become easy.

The same questions would probably return.

But I was different from the person who had entered that forest one day earlier.

A little quieter.

A little lighter.

A little more accepting.

And maybe that is what recalibration really means.

We spend so much time today talking about Artificial Intelligence.

How quickly it thinks.

How much it knows.

How it can improve productivity.

How it can solve problems.

And yes, AI is extraordinary.

But somewhere along the way, I think we should also remember another intelligence that has existed long before us.

Nature Intelligence.

A river does not hurry because somebody has set a deadline.

A tree does not compare its growth with the tree beside it.

A deer knows when to move and when to remain still.

A forest can survive storms, summers and monsoons and still begin another morning with birds singing.

Maybe nature does not solve our problems.

Maybe it teaches us how to carry them better.

And sometimes, when life pulls you two steps backwards after you have struggled one step forward, perhaps you don’t immediately need another solution.

You may simply need a river.

A forest.

A long walk.

And people you love beside you.

For me, this time, that place was Bheemeshwari.

And if I get another chance?

Yes. I would go back with my family without thinking twice.

Maybe next time Bengaluru becomes too noisy inside my head…

I already know where to search for NI.

Planning Your Bheemeshwari Trip

Travel Tips Before You Go

A few simple things can make your Bheemeshwari trip much more comfortable.

• Check the official Jungle Lodges website before you travel for the latest package details, timings and availability.
• Carry a change of clothes, especially if you are planning water activities. Evenings can feel a little cooler, so a light sweater or shawl is useful.
• Wear comfortable walking or trekking shoes. You will be doing quite a bit of walking around the camp.
• If you have binoculars, definitely carry them. Birds, deer, monkeys and other wildlife can appear when you least expect them.
• Carry a small personal medical kit with any medicines you normally need. The camp does have basic medical support, but it is always better to be prepared.
• There are no shops just outside the camp, so carrying a few small snacks—especially if you are travelling with kids—is a good idea. Just make sure not to feed the monkeys or any other wildlife.
• And one important thing: mobile connectivity can be weak or sometimes almost unavailable. But perhaps that is also one of the best parts of being here.

For a few hours, forget the phone, look around, listen to the river and enjoy the fact that the forest has much better things to show you.

Snaps through my lens

 

Good Appa!!! — A Small Independence Day Conversation That Became Something Bigger

A Three-Year-Old, a School Dance and “Indedence Day”

Good Appa!!

My three-year-old daughter came to me the other day and said, “Appa, we are dancing for one song in our school.” I casually asked her, “For which festival?” and she replied, “Independence Day.” Well, that is what she was trying to tell me, but it did not come out that easily. It went through multiple versions like, “Appa, I don’t know…”, “Addu Inde Day…” and when I asked, “Entha sariyagi helu?”, she tried again, “Appaaa… addu Indedence Day…” Finally, after a few attempts, I understood that she was trying to say Independence Day.

Naturally, my next question was, “For which song are you dancing?” Now that became another challenge. She knew the steps, but she was not able to tell me the song.

The Investigation Officer in Me Woke Up

Investigation Officer Appa

Immediately the investigation officer inside me became active. Which song could this be? Something similar had happened during her Republic Day celebration also. They had one group dance, and after enough investigation I somehow managed to crack that song. The satisfaction I got that day was almost like solving some complicated case.

So this time also I started asking questions. “Can you dance and show me?” My thinking was simple. Somewhere while dancing she might hum the tune, say one word, or give me some clue. Once I identify the song, I can play it for her and get that million-dollar smile and, if I am lucky, the greatest appreciation I normally get from her: “Good Appa!”

But that day nothing worked. After a lot of struggle, the day just vanished, and then came Sunday morning. Sunday mornings are usually the time when all these innovative ideas suddenly start coming into my head. When she came to me again saying, “Appa…!!”, I was ready with my playbook. Since the school is modern, I thought I should start with some popular songs related to India, patriotism and Independence Day.

Vande Mataram… Aye Watan… and Finally Jai Ho!

The first song I played was Vande Mataram. No major reaction, even though that was the song she had danced to during Republic Day. Then I tried Aye Watan. Again, nothing.

Then came Jai Ho.

The moment the song started, her head suddenly turned towards me. She nodded excitedly and said, “Appaaa… adu nanna song! Ede… ede… nanu dance madta irodu!”

That was it. Case solved.

I don’t know why, but the feeling was as if I had achieved something really big. I gave a big smile, and then came my reward: “Good Appa!!!”

All this investigation had gone on for almost one hour.

But I did not know that finding the song was actually going to be the easiest part of that Sunday, because now it was her turn to ask questions.

“Appa… What Is Independence Day?”

What Is Independence Day?

“Appa, what is Independence Day?”

Before coming to me, she first went to her elder sister and asked the same thing. Her sister’s explanation was very simple:

“Independence means free. Neenu dance madalakku free, free-yagi mathadalakku, you can roam freely…”

I smiled listening to her.

In a very simple way, she was actually correct, and surprisingly the little one seemed to understand it too.

When One Sister Explained Freedom to Another

While my elder daughter was explaining freedom to her younger sister, my mind suddenly went back to that famous classroom scene from 3 Idiots, where the professor asks, “What is a machine?” and Rancho gives the simplest explanation: anything that reduces human effort. The professor expects a textbook definition, but Rancho explains it in a way everybody can understand.

Something similar was happening in front of me. There was no complicated definition of freedom. One child was simply explaining it to another child in the language she understood.

I was enjoying this little conversation without realising that the question was soon going to boomerang towards me.

My elder daughter suddenly asked:

“Appa, how did we get independence from the British?”

Now it was my turn.

India Was Like One Big House

India Was Like One Big House

I wanted to explain it in a way that both of them could understand. I did not want to make it a history class filled with dates, kings, wars and complicated explanations. So I told them a simple story.

I said, “Imagine India is one very big house. Inside that house many families live. They speak different languages, eat different food, wear different clothes and celebrate different festivals, but all of them call the same big house their home.

Now imagine somebody from another street comes into your house. At first they come for some work. Slowly they start controlling things, and after some time they begin telling you, ‘You cannot decide everything in your own house. We will make the rules. We will decide many things for you.’

Would that feel fair?”

Both of them immediately said, “No!”

I continued, “A long time ago, something similar happened to India. The British came from far away and over time started ruling large parts of our country. Slowly many Indians began asking a simple question: ‘This is our home, so why should somebody else decide how our home should be run?’

Some people protested, some marched, some wrote, some went to jail, some refused to follow unfair rules and some even chose to fight. Slowly more and more people joined the struggle. Finally, on 15 August 1947, India became free from British rule.

That is why every year on August 15 we celebrate Independence Day. We hoist our flag, sing our national anthem, schools conduct programmes and yes… sometimes little children dance to Jai Ho.”

My younger one smiled when I said that.

I thought I had successfully answered the question and could relax.

Not even close.

Then Came the Question That Bamboozled Me

My elder daughter looked at me and said, “Our country is very big and we know some big people who fought for our country.”

I asked, “Like who?”

She thought for a moment and started naming them.

“Mahatma Gandhi, Subhas Chandra Bose, Bhagat Singh, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, Rani Lakshmibai, Chandrashekhar Azad…”

Then came the question that completely bamboozled me.

“Only these people got us independence?”

For a few seconds, I did not know what to say.

Of course I knew that thousands and thousands of people had contributed to our freedom struggle, but suddenly I started asking myself how many of them I could actually name.

We remember a handful of famous names very easily, but behind those names were thousands of students, farmers, workers, women, tribal leaders, teachers, writers and ordinary people whose photographs may not even be present in our school textbooks.

The Newspaper Cutting I Had Kept Like a Treasure

 The Newspaper Cutting

Then I suddenly remembered something.

A long time ago I had kept a newspaper cutting about some of the young people who had taken part in India’s freedom struggle. I normally keep such things safely in what my family probably considers junk, but for me it is my little treasure collection.

I went searching and luckily found it.

I came back, sat with both of them and said, “Today I want to show you something very special. Look at this newspaper page. See all these faces? Some have moustaches, some look very serious, some look almost like college students and one of them was actually a child. Do you know what connects all of them? They lived during the time when India was still fighting for freedom.”

Both of them were now looking at the page.

And for me, the narration started again.

Faces They Had Never Seen Before

I pointed towards Khudiram Bose and told them that he was only around eighteen years old.

“Think about it. An eighteen-year-old today may just be finishing school or starting college, but he was already part of India’s freedom struggle.”

Then I showed them Kartar Singh Sarabha, who was only nineteen. At an age when most of us would probably be thinking about our studies, friends and our own future, he was thinking about the future of his country.

Then there was Pritilata Waddedar.

I told them, “See, freedom struggle was not something only men were part of. Women also showed extraordinary courage and played an important role.”

Then came three faces they already recognised: Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev. I told them that all three were very young. They believed strongly that India should be free and stood by that belief even when they knew the consequences could be very serious.

Not Everyone Fought in the Same Way

But I also wanted them to understand that not everybody fought in the same way.

I showed them Jatin Das, who protested against the unfair treatment of Indian political prisoners through a hunger strike. His method was different, but his struggle was also about dignity and justice.

Then came Birsa Munda. I explained that he came from a tribal community and saw his people losing their land and being treated unfairly. Even at a young age, he became a leader and inspired people to stand together.

We then spoke about Chandrashekhar Azad, Ashfaqulla Khan and Ram Prasad Bismil.

While talking about Ashfaqulla Khan, I told them something I really wanted them to remember: many people in the freedom struggle came from different religions, languages, regions and communities, but their differences did not stop them from standing together for the country.

When I came to Ram Prasad Bismil, I told them, “He was not only a revolutionary, he was also a poet. Sometimes people fight with protests, sometimes with actions and sometimes with words. Words can also inspire people.”

Then I showed them one of the youngest faces on that newspaper page.

Baji Rout.

I asked them, “Can you guess how old he was?”

They had no idea.

“He was only twelve.”

That made both of them pause.

Twelve was an age they could somehow imagine. It was not like saying somebody was thirty, forty or fifty. Twelve was closer to being a child.

I told them that Baji Rout was still a child, but his courage during the freedom struggle made his name part of history.

Freedom Was Never One Person’s Achievement

After talking about all these people, I placed the newspaper cutting in front of them and said, “Now look at all these faces again. India did not become free because of only one person, and it did not become free because of only one type of struggle.

Some followed Mahatma Gandhi’s path of non-violence. Some believed in revolutionary resistance. Some organised people. Some wrote newspapers, books and poems. Some refused to obey unfair rules. Many went to prison.

Farmers participated, workers participated, students participated, women participated and tribal communities participated. There were also thousands of ordinary families whose names we may never know.”

Freedom was never one person’s achievement.

It slowly became a country’s struggle.

Freedom Fighters

“Then What Should We Do for India?”

After all this explanation, I asked them, “Now tell me, what should you do for India?”

My elder daughter started thinking seriously.

The younger one, I am quite sure, was still somewhere mentally dancing to Jai Ho.

I laughed and told them, “You don’t have to fight a war. You don’t have to become a freedom fighter. Your responsibility today is much simpler.

Study with curiosity. Be kind. Don’t bully somebody because they are different from you. Keep your surroundings clean. Protect trees. Don’t waste water. Be kind to animals. Respect people who speak another language or follow another religion. Help someone whenever you can. Speak the truth.

And when you see something that is clearly wrong, have the courage to say, ‘This is not right.’”

Because patriotism is not only about holding the flag and saying, “I love my country.”

It is also about asking yourself:

“What small thing can I do to make my country a little better?”

They Dreamed About a Free India

They Dreamed About a Free India

I looked once again at the newspaper cutting and told my elder daughter, “Whenever you see these people, don’t remember them only for how they died. Try to remember what they were dreaming about while they were alive.

They were dreaming about a free India, a country where Indians could decide their own future.”

And today, in many ways,

we are living inside that dream.

By then both my elder and younger one seemed happy that they had got some answer, and I was equally relieved that I had somehow managed to narrate the story without turning Sunday morning into a full history lecture.

Maybe, for Her, Independence Day Is Still Jai Ho

I am still not sure how much my three-year-old actually understood. Maybe for her Independence Day is still mainly about school, dancing, her friends and Jai Ho.

And I think that is perfectly okay.

She is only three.

For now, freedom can simply mean what her sister told her: you can talk freely, dance freely, learn, play and ask questions.

The deeper meaning can come slowly as she grows.

Parenting Is Strange Like That

When I thought about the whole morning later, I smiled. It had started with one very simple mission: find my daughter’s dance song.

Somewhere along the way, I became an investigation officer, cracked Jai Ho, received my precious “Good Appa”, explained British rule using a big house, searched through an old newspaper cutting and ended up talking about people who had sacrificed so much for India’s freedom.

Parenting is strange like that.

Sometimes you start Sunday morning searching for a song on your phone, and before you know it, you are sitting with your children talking about history, freedom and what it means to love your country.

Sometimes Children Just Need an Answer for Today

Perhaps children don’t always need the perfect textbook answer.

Sometimes they only need an answer they can understand today.

The rest, they will understand tomorrow.

And somewhere between all their questions, doubts and little smiles, if you are lucky, you may also receive the greatest award a father can get.

“Good Appa!!!”