One of the biggest treats when we were children was being taken to India Gate on a cool summer evening or a not-too-severe winter one and let loose to play in the lawns.

We invariably got a bright coloured balloon, a Kwality ice cream of our choice and, if we had been particularly good, one of the incredibly innovative local toys priced at Rs 5 at most being sold by hawkers (incidentally, these are great even today) — stuff that was never available in the big shops.

On Diwali, as a special treat, we were often driven around and down from Rashtrapati Bhavan to India Gate to admire, with “oohs” and “aahs”, the illuminated buildings all the way, including the circular Parliament House.

I still remember how these lights were missing the year Indira Gandhi was assassinated.

The Shankarlal Music Festival, Kamani and Shriram Bhartiya Kala Kendra’s Ramlila were also a part and parcel of growing up for us.

We were regularly “subjected” (back then, it felt like that) to Bhimsen Joshi, Alarmel Valli, Pandit Jasraj and Hariprasad Chaurasia — whether it bored us or not.

Then, whenever we had some aunts, uncles or relatives visiting (which was alarmingly often back then), we’d be bundled off to Agra to see the Taj Mahal, Fatehpur Sikri and Agra Fort.

I remember feeling quite involved in the lives of the various Mughal kings as guides in Agra held forth in their broken English on tales from their past — some imagined and some real, I suspect.

I even recall wanting to meet Akbar after having gone repeatedly to his stunning Fatehpur Sikri and Salim Chishti’s dargah – something in the way he had built these monuments made me feel he was worth meeting.

Needless to add that Red fort, Old Fort (and boating there), Qutub Minar and so on were all old hat for us — I had seen the sound and light show so many times that I could tell you what was coming next.

The Ramlila’s main high drama bits (when Ram breaks the bow and Parshuram is furious or the fight Jatayu puts up to save Sita from Ravan), dialogues and songs are still firmly etched in my memory.

Well, I happened to be at a lunch recently where I found seven children (in the age group of 9 to 15) and on impulse I asked them something about Barack Obama, the Republic Day and then India Gate.

I was a bit surprised to learn that only two of them could clearly tell me where India Gate is (only one knew why it exists).

A few seemed to recall having driven past it sometime.

Two looked almost totally blank and muttered that they had heard of it, they knew it was in Delhi, yes, but they couldn’t quite be sure who had built it — or why.

They vaguely remembered reading about it in their textbooks.

None had been there for an ice cream at all.

Lodi Garden and Nehru Park sounded “familiar” to a couple of them; one said he was sure his father went jogging to one of these regularly.

Intrigued, I asked about Agra.

All of them perked up and mentioned the Taj Mahal, although only three had seen it.

Agra Fort, Fatehpur Sikri and Salim Chishti’s dargah drew a total blank.

None of them had seen the Red Fort or the Old Fort (of course the sound and light show was unheard of), although school day trips had taken five of them to Qutub Minar.

Needless to add that none was exasperatingly familiar — as we used to be — with any of the well-known classical singers and dancers I mentioned and I mentioned quite a few.

I refer to Delhi and Gurgaon but speak to parents in any city and you will realise how little time and effort is going into making children aware of their own country, culture and heritage.

Even the festivals we (I speak of people like us, which, of course, represents a miniscule part of Indian society) celebrate today — Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and Halloween — are largely borrowed.

I don’t know what we as parents are thinking of but how are we allowing an entire generation to grow up with no clear sense of identity and no knowledge of their incredibly rich cultural heritage – something we have to be proud in a country where there is a lot not to be proud of?

Can India be reduced only to malls, Bollywood and cricket?

Are we content to allow our children to relate to Eminem, Justin Bieber and Lady Gaga but have absolutely no knowledge of any Indian artist barring, say, the Shah Rukh Khans of the world?

Can American sitcoms be the answer?

And have we collectively ever stopped to think: if these children grow up not knowing where they are coming from, how will they ever know where they are going?

SOURCE:::::  Anjuli Bharghava in http://www.rediff.com

Natarajan