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Kids will be kids
But is the old adage enough to explain away the ruckus created by the neighbourhood tots...

GOOD FENCES MAKE good neighbours. The words from the long forgotten Robert Frost poem Mending Wall came to my mind the other day, when I heard the ruckus created by the kids who had come to play in the garden adjoining my flat.
Not to question the builder's credentials, but I stay in a high-rise where if the top floor resident were to but sneeze, someone at my place would definitely end up catching a cold. With paper thin walls that carry everything from the neighbour's marital woes to the tantalizing curry whose smoky flavours has everyone walking into my house expecting a feast to be laid out on the table, I've come to realise pretty quickly that the vault like door which I'm happy to note even the axe murderer would not be able to hack through (unless of course he has found my lost set of spare keys) does not exactly offer me protection from the forces beyond.
Kids screaming which sends me scrambling to the bedroom to check on my little one or the sound of water trickling which has me hunting around in search of the elusive pipe leak have become de rigueur.
Ordinarily these issues would have just elicited a few funny comments about the quality of construction, but there is a more somber aftereffect of it as I learnt the other day. One of the "not so child friendly" neighbours, apparently woken up from his late afternoon siesta by the sound of kids larking about in the corridor, decided to take matters into his own hands, probably upon noticing no reaction to his pitch high scream (which, I confess, had me peering out of my peep hole) and called in the police. Now I know there are matters, which only men in uniform can handle, but the sound of a kid screaming in your backyard? Or who knows probably the man in question just had a bad day at work or has a really hard time falling asleep or has a phobia of loud noises. Whatever it is I'm a little on the fence on this one. Watching children indulge in a boisterous ball practice or a simple hide and seek game makes me feel rather quaint and happy. In an age where most teens and alarmingly their younger brethren can be found glued to screens of all sizes, it is rather nice to see kids up and about indulging in some physical activity. Recent research has revealed that today's kids, glued as they are to the TV screen or their mobile phones, exhibit an alarming lack of social skills. Sadly enough children are more comfortable interacting with reel figures than real flesh and blood ones.
In that context it is rather heartening to see children indulge in childish pursuits in my neighbourhood. A sentiment my irate neighbour probably does not share.
As I heard one mother scream back to the angry man: "What else do you expect children to do? They will of course make noise. After all they are children."