Hakuna Matata

This is a repost, dear people. I have a tremendously full weekend – but a promise is a promise, and post we must!  🙂 Please do indulge me and re-read this, even if you had already done so before.

Miss A and I watched “The Lion King”  a while ago . I have liked the movie but it has never been one of my firm favourites. Miss A however is transfixed with the setting, with Simba and with the concept of Hakuna Matata. I have always been cautious of letting her watch anything with violence or anything that could be potentially disturbing. A childhood should be a happy place with blue skies, icecreams that don’t melt on summer afternoons, cotton candy kisses, fairies on the rose bushes outside your window and a soft buttercup yellow moon to sing you a lullaby each night. There should be a fairy tale or two, a smooth pebble hidden in a dark drawer and a friend that blows soap bubbles with you on lazy evenings. Life happens much later, the prelude should be perfect and simple.
She watches with wide eyed innocence as Scar kills Mufasa and Simba watches in dismay. As Simba weeps, she moves closer to the TV and tries to console him. “Shhhh”, she goes, “it is okay”.  She takes in the scenes of Scar threatening young Simba and looks at me with disappointment writ large on her perfect features.

“Shouldn’t we be always nice to people, isnt Scar wrong?”, she asks me.

“That is one way to get nice things to happen to you”, I start tentatively. It is a simplistic truth that my mother
ingrained in me and it is something I have believed in. I know that the truth is often challenged though, I dont tell Miss A that sometimes you can give all you have and you will get nothing nice in return. That after all has been said and all the niceties have been dispensed, you can still be left feeling empty and hollow. That no matter how hard you try, some things will never work out and that there are no nice answers to some questions. That you cant be
assured of goodness merely because you choose to believe in it. But, I dont tell her any of this. Like I said before, life will happen much later, for now it is about the prelude.

Instead, I tell her that she needs to be nice because it is the better option any day. It is the same moral my mother taught me many summers ago and it has always worked for me. Things have a better chance of working out when they are simple, this much I know and this much I believe in.

Miss A leans back and watches Simba sing Hakuna Matata.

“You know what”, she says as the strains of the song reach a crescendo, “I believe that there are more good people in the world than bad people”. And just like that, before my eyes, a new fable, a new truth and a new faith has just pronounced itself. I want to believe in this and a warm cockle of my heart tells me that I do. It is my mother’s lesson, reworded. Miss A may have taught both of us our most important lesson yet.


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rajavel
    Aug 29, 2010 @ 00:33:52

    Thats a good, reassuring thumb rule one could live by !


  2. Aria
    Oct 26, 2010 @ 03:58:14

    hadn’t read it before and as usual.. loved it : )


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