From time to time, we, who are now the older generation, read about the “new world” of the 21st century. We compare and contrast our lives with those of the “millennials” and we perhaps sit back smugly and tell ourselves we somehow knew how to handle ourselves better, we knew how to connect with people and the environment and a whole lot of other stuff.
“Imagine,” we say as we read from the newspaper, “Many millennials don’t know their neighbours! And look at this, heaps of those millennials would rather raise canines than children!”
I squirm a bit when I hear others of my age group make such comments about millennials — because I am well aware that not making friends with neighbours and keeping to oneself has got nothing to do with which generation one belongs to or in which “era” one was born!
(If you don’t believe that, go ahead and ask my erstwhile neighbours. They will tell you that I had never sent a word beyond “Hello” in their direction in the six months they were living five feet across the landing from my front door! Even when they moved out a couple of weeks ago, all I may have said was a “Bye — and best of luck!” Don’t ask me their first names — or their surname for that matter! Shame on me! And I can’t even blame my lapses on carefree/careless youth!)
As for preferring the company of canines to children, well, millennials are not pioneers in this field!
There was a certain couple some 30 years ago that decided, when they wanted to expand their family, that they would acquire a dog. Quite a lot of thought and preparation went into their decision — but, when a handful of fur landed on their doorstep a short while later, they realised that they had not taken into consideration one important factor. They fell completely in love with that bundle of fur and went completely overboard in raising her.
She was never just a dog. She was their firstborn, their beloved, their reason for living.
Every meal was well-thought out, every moment of her activities and exercise was carefully monitored. Despite both of them being workaholics of sorts, they made time for her, made sure they were the only ones to feed her and take her for a walk twice a day, and so on. She accompanied them everywhere and she had the run of the house and the garden. If anyone who visited was afraid of dogs and wanted her out of sight (and thanks to all the care lavished on her, she had reached an intimidating size), you can guess what happened. Yes, the visitor, no matter how old and dear a friend, was soon out of sight — and not even missed!
What’s more, this firstborn’s arrival was announced in letters and annual cards and congratulations poured in from everywhere. When everyone realised that it was a canine whose arrival we had broadcast (yes, that couple was us), they shook their heads and no doubt said, “What is the world coming to? These young people ...!”
Some years later, when the next born made his way into our lives, there was silence on all fronts as we juggled quadruped and biped and brushed fur and washed nappies — and tried to keep fur out of the nappies — and a lot else. We didn’t want our “firstborn” to feel left out of any activity and she remained a precious part of the family, referred to always as our first child and the elder sister.
So, with all those memories ever fresh in my mind, how can I dare to hop onto the bandwagon and look askance at the choices of millennials?
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.
